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steddiealltheway · 1 year

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It's El's birthday, and she gets a Polaroid camera. It's from Jonathan but funded with the help of Steve who tells him not to tell her, but after a little negotiating, Steve agrees to say the film is from him and the camera is from Jonathan.

Some people are a little weirded out by the whole thing since Jonathan and Steve were never really close, but Steve had been adamant about how he wanted to help in any way possible with the party. When Jonathan had voiced his concern about how much the perfect gift was, Steve immediately chipped in putting down any protest Jonathan had.

And there El sat with the Polaroid in her hands, gazing down at it with such wonder and joy that Steve couldn't help but know he had made the right decision - even if he was digging into some of his savings from Scoops, but no one needed to know that.

Only, Eddie leans over and nudges him as El is thanking them and moves on to unwrap the next present. Steve turns to him and furrows his brow. What? Eddie raises his eyebrows and tilts his head toward the camera. That's not a cheap gift. Steve just shrugs as nonchalantly as possible, but Eddie shakes his head with a smile and squeezes his knee. You're unbelievable.

And that's the thing about Eddie, ever since the Upside Down, it was like they were inseparable when put in the same room together. He somehow always knew what Steve was thinking and could communicate with a few looks.

And everyone thought this was way stranger than the whole Jonathan and Steve buying a joint gift thing.

Dustin was especially exasperated by the way they would sometimes look at each other and just burst out laughing, yelling at them to stop talking about him in front of him. Steve and Eddie would argue that they had no idea what he was talking about especially since they hadn't said anything (but most of the time it was about Dustin).

After El gets through the rest of the gifts, she grabs her camera and asks Jonathan how to work it as everyone starts to scatter a bit. Steve finds himself on the couch next to Eddie as Robin and Nancy talk about the latest thing Nancy had written for Hawkin's Post.

Steve is telling some random story from work when there's a bright flash to his right. He flinches but recovers quickly when he sees El smiling as the picture develops. She glances up at Eddie and comments, "You have a very pretty smile." Then, she goes on to Nancy and Robin, waiting for the perfect candid photo opportunity, but Steve can only stare at Eddie.

He's staring off at El with a slight blush on his cheeks and a bashful smile. Steve can't help but think about what El said. He had never really thought about that before, but she was right. He has a very very pretty smile.

The party goes on, and Steve can't help but try to make Eddie smile as often as he can which isn't too hard considering Eddie seems to smile at anything Steve says - even his lamest jokes. But eventually, the party is wrapping up, and Steve is in charge of taking Dustin and Robin home.

Eddie says a quick goodbye to Steve and gives him a hug that Steve tries to linger in as long as he can before he fondly watches Eddie pull Dustin into a tight hug that makes the younger kid shriek. He feels like he's bursting at the seams with joy.

He gets tapped on the shoulder and turns to find Jonathan looking at him and waving him to the side. Steve follows him quickly. "I just wanted to thank you again for your help with El's gift, and I also wanted to congratulate you, man."

Steve's brows furrow in confusion, and Jonathan claps him on the arm. "Eddie's a really great guy. And, hey, I talked to El, and I thought you'd want this."

Steve is a bit confused by the random mention of Eddie until he looks down at what Jonathan is handing him. It's the Polaroid picture from earlier with him smiling at Eddie, going on about something as Eddie fully smiles back at him, leaning toward him with his hand on Steve's knee. How had he not noticed how close they were before?

The picture sends a wave of warmth through him and his heart beats a bit faster, but he thanks Jonathan and puts the photo in his wallet. The two linger and Steve kind of thinks to hell with it and hugs Jonathan before saying goodbye. Maybe all the bad shit can just be pushed behind them.

He turns and finds Eddie staring at him with a smile that looks forced and tight, but he when tilts his head, Eddie just shakes his head. Nothing.

Steve continues to look at him but decides to shrug it off. Eddie knows he can always talk to him, but Steve can't help but hope his genuine pretty smile will return soon.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve finds himself pulling the photo out of his wallet a lot. Especially when he's having a bad day or feeling down. It's used as a kind of secret happiness drug. All he has to do is pull out the picture and look at Eddie in it to get a burst of joy and energy.

The problem is that people start to notice. And by people, he means the kids.

It happens when they visit Family Video a couple of times, and Steve finds himself longing for Eddie to be there with the group, so he'll hide his wallet behind the counter and pull the picture out where the kids - and Robin - can't see it.

But one time, he finds himself staring at the picture for too long and Dustin demands to know what he's staring at. Steve brushes it off as nothing, and Dustin narrows his eyes at him for a moment before letting it go.

Steve vows to be a little more careful after that, but that leaves him wondering why he's being secretive about this picture of him and Eddie. And what does that mean?

-:-:-:-:-:-

It's a few days later when Steve rushes into the basement of the Wheeler home, trying to get Dustin to leave before he breaks his curfew. Dustin begs him for five more minutes which Steve grants him, but he can't help but wonder if he would've gone quicker if Eddie was there.

Thinking about it leads Steve to wander off away from the kids so he can open his wallet and look at the picture. He instantly gets that surge of warmth that has him biting his lip to keep from giggling. He nearly rolls his eyes at himself since he's acting like a middle school girl with a crush. He takes a few moments to try to fully memorize the picture when it hits him.

A middle school girl with a crush.

He puts the picture back in his wallet immediately and stuffs it in his pocket. He looks at Dustin who is already looking at him. "Whose picture do you have in your wallet, Steve?"

Steve turns bright red and it only further confirms his feelings. Oh god, he has a crush on Eddie Munson and has a picture of him in his wallet which he uses to feel happy. Oh shit.

Steve just says, "Come on, Henderson."

As the others start yelling at him asking who it is, Steve snaps that it's none of their business which only makes them pry further. He ignores them all the way to his car, and once he gets in, he tells Dustin, "Bring up the picture again, and I'll make sure to drive under the speed limit the entire way home."

Dustin glances at the clock and mimes zipping his lips, locking them, and throwing the key away. It only reminds Steve of Eddie.

The rest of the drive is fairly quiet as Steve thinks about the new development. He has a crush on Eddie. That's fine. That is definitely fine. It is all good and fine.

When he gets to Dustin's place, the boy turns to him and asks, "The person means a lot to you, don't they?"

Steve looks at Dustin and catches the seriousness of his look. He nods confirming what he said.

Dustin smiles. "Well, I can't wait to figure out who they are."

With that, he gets out of the car and jogs off to the front door, waving before he gets inside.

Steve drives away after a minute of making sure everything is okay and is left with his thoughts again.

Everything is not fine. And he doesn't know what's happening, so he goes to the only place he knows will help.

He parks his car and gets out, rushing to the side of the house to knock on the window. The light comes on and the curtains open. "Steve?"

The window is quickly lifted up and Steve climbs through. "Hey, Robin."

Then, he promptly has a meltdown of confusion and confesses everything to Robin. He pulls out the picture and hands it over.

Robin takes a few moments to stare at the photo before she hands it back to him. The two sit in silence until Robin finally says, "Oh my gosh, you have a crush on Eddie Munson."

"Yeah," Steve says in response.

And before he knows it the both of them are laughing loudly, trying to muffle it so they don't wake Robin's parents up which only causes them to laugh harder.

Steve says through the laughter, "Am I gay?"

Both of their laughter dies down, and Robin answers, "Probably bisexual."

"What that?"

"When a person likes men and women."

Steve sits in it for a second and nods. "Yeah, that makes sense."

And for some reason, this has them both laughing again. Steve can't help but hold up the picture and stare at it again. He really really likes Eddie Munson.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Two days later, Steve is trying to determine how much longer he can avoid Eddie. It's not exactly avoiding him when they just don't happen to run into each other, but pretty soon, it might turn into purposeful avoiding.

It's just... Steve doesn't know how to act around Eddie anymore. And he knows that when he has feelings for someone he's all or nothing and extremely obvious. And all the kids are a little too smart for their own good.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He doesn't know what he's going to do.

The doorbell rings, and Steve sighs again. Better not be the kids.

He opens the door and is not prepared to find Eddie Munson at his front door.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you, too. I thought I'd stop by, have a little chat," Eddie says with a smile but sounds extremely suspicious.

Shit, he might know.

Eddie tries to slip past him, but Steve steps in his way. All this does is get Eddie way closer to him than Steve can handle at the moment but he manages to ask, "What are you really doing here?"

Eddie's eyes deceive him and Steve clearly sees there's an ulterior motive. Eddie throws his hands up. "Fine! I was sent here on a mission."

Steve crosses his arms and steps back. "A mission?"

Eddie nods with a small smile. His eyes flicker past Steve, and that's when Steve realizes he messed up.

Eddie shoots past him and up the stairs. "Munson!" Steve calls after him slamming the front door close before racing after him.

Steve finds Eddie in his room with his wallet in his hand. Oh shit.

Steve stands in place, trying to feel out where Eddie is going next. "Give it back now. I'm serious, Eddie."

Eddie holds the wallet up high and slowly walks back. "I've been tasked... to find out who is in your wallet." Steve slowly steps forward, hoping to corner Eddie as he talks. "Now, the kids were worried that maybe it wouldn't be an appropriate picture if you know what I mean. So, I graciously accepted because I, too, am curious. Who has caught Steve Harrington's eye and given him a picture to remember them by?"

By now Steve is only a few steps away and ready to take the wallet back. Steve waits for Eddie to open his wallet before darting at him, but Eddie instead does the unthinkable.

He charges at Steve and somehow tackles him onto his own bed. Then, he climbs on top of him, straddling him and holding the wallet up high.

Steve's brain goes slightly fuzzy, so the only thing he can do is yell, "Please, you don't want to know!"

But Eddie opens the wallet and easily plucks out the picture, and all Steve can do is watch as he's trapped under Eddie. "I told you you wouldn't want to know," Steve mumbles, flushing red.

He watches as Eddie stares at it with a blank look on his face. A few moments pass and Steve quietly requests, "Can you at least get off of me?"

Eddie looks down at him and finally says, "No, I'm not going to let you escape." He makes it a point as he fully sits back on Steve's thighs.

Steve runs his hands over his face.

"Where did you get this?"

"Jonathan gave it to me after El's party," Steve answers staring at the ceiling, not wanting to know what Eddie's reaction is.

He feels him shift above him. "And... And this is the picture you've been staring at?"

"Yep," Steve replies immediately.

"Oh," Eddie says in a tone that Steve can't begin to describe.

"Yeah. Oh," Steve repeats back.

A few moments pass and Steve risks glancing at Eddie, but he's still staring at the photo. "Steve?"

Steve sighs, preparing for the letdown. "What, Eddie?"

"So, you know?" Eddie asks nervously.

Steve props himself up on his elbows. "Know what?"

Eddie shakes his head with a laugh. "Come on. You've stared at this picture long enough to read me." Eddie turns the picture around as if proving a point.

Steve feels that same heat as he stares at the photo, he lightly smiles at it. "You look happy. And El was right, you have a pretty smile."

Eddie groans as if frustrated with his answer which causes Steve to fully sit up until he's practically nose to nose with Eddie. "You asked me to read you, and you already figured out my feelings, so why are you mad?"

Eddie groans again and thrusts the picture between them. "You're able to read every look of mine except this one. Come on, Steve. Look."

So, Steve looks back at the photo. At the way Eddie is leaning into him, the hand on his knee, the big smile, the way his eyes are lit up. Then, Steve does something he hadn't thought of before. He looks at himself.

He looks at the way he's staring at Eddie, looking for that approval but mirroring him in his look. Steve looks back at Eddie as he seems to be hanging on to every word he's saying, not even paying attention to his surrounding. Neither of them are because...

Eddie has feelings for him, too.

The realization hits him quickly, and he can't believe he never saw it before. He loves the picture so much not only because of the way Eddie looks in it but because of the way Eddie is looking at him in it.

The picture slowly moves away and Steve breathes out, "Holy shit."

He refocuses his gaze on Eddie and sees that same look. The look that's always been there, but the only one that Steve has been unable to read. Eddie slowly smiles, and Steve can't help but mirror him.

Then, Eddie's eyes flicker down, and Steve knows exactly what that look means. But Eddie looks back into his eyes searching until he raises his eyebrows Can I? Steve nods, and they both surge forward closing the already small distance between them, kissing like there's no tomorrow.

Steve breaks away for air and asks, "Can I get a picture of this, too, for my wallet?"

Eddie laughs and replies, "As long as I get one to match." Then, he kisses Steve again, and Steve feels the same way he does whenever he looks at that picture - bursting at the seams with warmth and happiness.

Luckily when Dustin goes digging through Steve's wallet days later, he only finds the picture of them on the couch and doesn't notice the picture behind it of Eddie winking at the camera as he kisses Steve.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things

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mochidoie · 10 months

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boyfriend material.

jung jaehyun x gn!reader genre: fluff, fake dating cliche, strangers to lovers, slight angst wc: 6.2k warnings: sensual tension/implications, sfw kiss scene

Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.

“What if we fake dated?” Nearly choking on your spit, you peer up at the dimpled boy in mostly shock, but also curiosity at why the hell he would be desperate enough to ask such a bizarre request from you, his project partner.

The maximum amount of time you have known this man is probably less than 48 hours and despite being in the same class for the past semester, yesterday is the first time you two have actually exchanged words.

“You have to be out of your mind.” The question was a follow up to the story of his unrequited love, which you had been way too interested in from the start because anything is better than working on school work.

Being paired with Jaehyun for one of the biggest group projects of the year had not been your first pick, but you didn’t have much of a choice since your professor used a random generator to assign partners.

Jaehyun barely knew of your existence two days ago, though, you really can’t blame him for your lack of attendance and participation. All you knew of him was that he was the guy with dimples and his name started with a J. But, that’s college. You don’t get to know much of anyone in your lectures or discussion classes.

This is one of the only classes small enough for a partner project, being that it is a seminar class counted toward your major in order to graduate. You really could have gone through all of college without a single group project on your loop, but the universe tested you.

“Think about it, we could be killing two birds with one stone.” Jaehyun gleams, trying to close your heavy textbook to garner your attention. “I can prove to Rose that I am boyfriend material and you can prove to your friends that you’re not chronically single.”

“I really shouldn’t have confessed that I was chronically single. It gives you leverage to use it against me.” Sighing deeply, you narrow your eyes at this man that wears an innocent smile on his face.

The chance to shut your friends’ chatter about your love life is incredibly tempting and Jaehyun is the perfect visual to introduce: charming smile, glossy eyes, deep dimples, tall, nice build. You just know all your friends would be smitten over a man like him.

“Say I agree to this ridiculous idea, how would we break up?” Your interest is captivated now, as you set your pen in the middle crease of the textbook and cross your arms over the table.

“It could be a mutual split. If you want to spice it up, you can dump me or I can break up with you and I’ll cry about it to Rose. She’ll comfort me, realize I’m so boyfriend material and grow feelings for me.” Jaehyun claps his hands together as if he made the most brilliant idea ever.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes at how silly it sounded. Though, a part of you really wanted to show someone off so that your friends would stop trying to set you up with their weird coworkers or their desperate mutuals.

As if you never thought you’d agreed to something as absurd as fake dating someone, you lean back in your seat and ask the one question that causes the moon crescents to appear on this handsome man’s fluffy cheeks:

“So, what’s the game plan?”

THE GAME PLAN: BOYFRIEND MATERIAL

Meet Cute: Jaehyun asked to borrow a charger and never gave it back. Professor does a random name generator for a partner project. You and Jaehyun are paired. The charger made its way back to its original owner in a fateful way.

Who liked who first: you fell for that sexy baritone voice.

How he asked you out: A dozen roses and a candlelit dinner.

How long have you been dating: three weeks.

Favorite thing about one another:

Y/N: cute stationary

Jaehyun: dimples

“Cute stationary?” You squint at his answer with disgust at how lame it is. “That is the best answer you could think of? People are really going to think we’re head over heels for each other.” The sarcasm in your tone is distinct, not going unnoticed by Jaehyun.

“Says the one that said dimples. How original.” Jaehyun fakely yawns, rolling his eyes at the hypocrisy.

“I’m not going for uniqueness. I’m just making these answers easy enough for me to remember if asked.”

“And we’re making me the forgetful one in the meet cute?” Jaehyun pretends to be offended. His hand rests on his chest, followed by a scoff.

You’re growing to understand Jaehyun’s banter, finding that his question does hold some amount of irony. “Whatever, I have class in 15 minutes. Let’s quickly establish the rules and go on with our day.”

RULES: BOYFRIEND MATERIAL

No kissing on the lips.

Don’t tell anyone about the fake relationship.

Sunday Recaps.

Go to one social event with friends for each person.

“That should be good for now.” You electronically sign your name on the document, sharing access rights to Jaehyun’s email. “We’ll add to it if needed.”

“Do you think it’ll work?” As you rush to pack your things into your backpack, you’re quizzically staring at how concerned Jaehyun looks asking his question. “Like, is it going to convince Rose how good of a boyfriend I’d be?”

“Well, you have to convince me first if you’d even be a good boyfriend before you start thinking about impressing your crush.” Zipping up, you wait for Jaehyun to make a move. Anything, this was essentially a cue. Nonetheless, he remains kicking his feet underneath the table and drifting off into space.

“Seriously?” You ask, arms crossed and weight barred on your left leg. Jaehyun’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, unable to read the bewilderness of your expression.

“What?”

This is going to be harder than you expected. What the hell did you just get yourself into?

“This is your cue to say you’re going to walk me to my class.” Your palm lands on your cheek, rubbing away the forming frustration you have for this man. He is far, far, far from boyfriend material. “Forget it.”

“No, wait-” Jaehyun clears the table of his things, shoving them carelessly into his backpack and hurrying to catch up to you. “I guess I forgot to mention that I don’t know the first thing about impressing someone.”

You can’t help the laugh that slips from your lips, “oh, you clueless handsome man. It is such a good thing you’re attractive or else, it would be much harder for you.”

“That is a very backhanded compliment.” Jaehyun’s laugh is so robust that it rumbles your chest. It is your first time genuinely hearing it, as he has been stoic the whole day you two worked on your project.

“We’ll get there,” you pat his shoulder and head toward the lecture doors, “I’ll send you a calendar invite for your first social event next week.”

Jaehyun stands still, eyes scanning the floor and then back up at your fading figure. “Why are you so willing to help me?”

You stop, hand holding the handle to the door. Looking back at him, the smile on your face shocks him. “Because now I feel responsible for making you a good boyfriend.” With a wave goodbye, you disappear into the building.

Jaehyun puts his hands into his pocket and the white clouds float above him in the blue sky. A small smile creeps on his lips as a simple thought causes it to arise. “Favorite thing about y/n is that smile.”

“I feel like this is so abrupt. When did you two even start talking?” Your friend starts with the questioning. You had warned Jaehyun previously about the million questions you two were going to get tonight and told him to be prepared. Remember the game plan.

“A little over a month ago. Jaehyun and I talked in class for the most part.” Stirring the straw in your drink, you’re wondering if your friends can see past your facade.

“Y/N really likes to play hard to get.” Jaehyun takes control of the narrative, you’re perked up to hear what he has up his sleeve. “I asked for their number three separate times. The first being when I asked to borrow the charger, twice before the midterm, and the third when we were assigned as partners.”

“No wonder why you didn’t get your charger back for the longest time.” Another friend jokes and Jaehyun agrees so naturally. Your eyes scan his whole demeanor and he looks completely relaxed. A part of you had expected that he would flounder and be a nervous wreck in front of your friends. Nonetheless, he is doing great at his first social event.

It is your good friend’s birthday celebration at a more upscale bar downtown. The formal attire was mandatory and you had spent the last hour picking up a last minute outfit for Jaehyun at his apartment.

The two of you had already begun planting the social media seeds over the week. Random roses on a Tuesday afternoon. Dinner with a man’s hand holding the glass near the right side of the picture. Your scrunchie around his wrist as he takes his daily gym selfie.

Your friends bombarded you with eye emojis, acting like detectives to figure out if you were seeing someone. Before you knew it, they were all telling you to invite him to the birthday celebration, which you already knew he’d get the invite for. Your friends were dying to meet him.

The moment you two had stepped in, eyes were instantly on you and watching your every step with Jaehyun in your arms. The attention made you sweat, mostly because you didn’t know how tonight would play out and because you’ve never been seen with a partner.

However, as the night went on, Jaehyun was a real crowd pleaser. Truthfully, you had no idea how Jaehyun is as a person. You two barely know each other’s last names, but the impression you had of him was of a more shy and reserved man. Maybe it was the lack of talking you two shared in the first hour of your group project, but he was so enjoyable to be around.

“Hey, you doing alright?” Jaehyun wraps his arm around your waist, causing you to slightly cease action. He notices, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “Is it okay for me to touch you?”

His hot breath and deep raspy whisper against the shell of your ear actually made your knees weak. Your mind takes you to unimaginable places, scenes that you shouldn’t be thinking about with Jaehyun. The grip on your glass tightens and you’re nodding subtly. “Social battery is depleting. I think we should leave soon.”

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty chaotic over there. We should flee the scene before we get trapped in it.” He points to the small crowd forming near the barstools.

One of the mutuals of another friend is hunched over, gripping his stomach and practically dry heaving in the middle of the area. His face goes completely pale and you just knew he was going to projectile vomit in nearly ten seconds.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Your hand finds his out of instinct, maneuvering the both of you through incoming flocks of friends trying to get another word in. You’re saying your goodbyes while rushing out as fast as you can.

“It was lovely meeting you, Jaehyun!” Some call out and he is waving, bidding his goodbyes as if he is a celebrity to his fans.

One push and you’re out the door, into the chilly night that brushes a breeze on your arms. Finally, there is no one else around and no more small talk, you can breathe. “Wow, that was incredible.”

“I’m used to getting out of situations as fast as I can.” There goes that smile that Jaehyun likes, heart racing and all just by looking at you. “Especially with my friends. They’ll talk your ear off if you let them.”

You’re fully aware that your fingers are still intertwined after escaping. Jaehyun’s hand is a bit rough due to the calluses on his palms from heavy weight lifting, but it feels nice. To be held, to be felt, to share warmth – your heart is running a marathon all on its own.

“Sorry.” Mumbling, your hands separate in seconds. Jaehyun sheepishly puts them in his pockets and averts his gaze awkwardly. For a moment, you forgot where your boundaries lie.

“Can I drive you home?” Jaehyun kindly asks. He beckons over at his car parked on the curb and hopes for you to follow.

“But I live the opposite way.” The reluctance causes your body to freeze up, standing in place. At the end of it all, Jaehyun and you were barely friends. Possibly, your mind is still very much aware of that.

Jaehyun almost starts with a whole thing about it being dangerous at night, but he realizes you really didn’t need to hear all of that. It would’ve been an earful anyway and he just needed you to get into the car without feeling bad.

“I know, but I don’t mind.” He says, opening the door to the passenger side for you. Taken aback, you’re wondering if something happened to Jaehyun overnight for this sudden charm he is exuding.

Perhaps the stars in the night sky are playing tricks on you, but you’re beginning to see Jaehyun in a new light.

“So, you’re completely over Rosie?” There seems to be a pattern amongst yours and Jaehyun’s group of friends. Both sides seem skeptical about the two of you dating, often questioning details about how legit this relationship is.

It’s going to be the 4th week mark – one month of keeping up these charades, but making your very fake relationship just shy of two months. No rules have been broken and you’re building your friendship very well with all the time you two spend together.

You’re at the first social event for Jaehyun. Unlike him, you aren’t one to control a crowd and his friends aren’t like yours where they’d talk endlessly. The anticipation of finally meeting Jaehyun’s crush also dawned on you, her name being mentioned very frequently.

“It would be really weird if I wasn’t.” Laughing dryly, he brings you closer by the waist and into his side. To any outsider perspective, it would look as though Jaehyun is trying to non-verbally reassure you like a good boyfriend would. It doesn’t draw much attention, it’s a light-hearted response to an awkward question. He is learning very well.

To you, it feels very staged and you’re trying your best to hide the warmth you’re feeling from how intimate you two look together. “I don’t mean to offend you. Rosie was Jaehyun’s previous fling and it felt very unfinished.”

The way that Jaehyun had described their relationship didn’t seem like a fling, though you know how people use that word quite loosely nowadays. “It’s hard when you’re each other’s firsts.”

Suddenly, a chill runs down your spine and your heart drops to your stomach. This feeling washing over you is foreign, but familiar all at once. The grip on your waist retreats and Jaehyun looks like a deer caught in headlights. A crucial detail seems to be left out and the way your body reacts to it is a surprise to you.

His friends seem to understand the situation, without any exchange of words. They clear their throats and Jaehyun looks about ready to kill someone. “It was a while ago though!”

“Yeah, they barely ever see each other anymore.” His other friend tries to put a bandage on the situation, chuckling nervously at the shift in atmosphere.

Jaehyun's social event is turning out quite terribly.

“Jae?” A voice calls for everyone’s attention. It’s a sweet and delicate cadence, you would believe it if it came from a princess or fairy of sorts. When you all turn to face the owner of that gentle voice, you’re met with someone even more beautiful.

Something deep inside told you that she had to be Rosie and Jaehyun affirmed it with the look in his eyes. “It’s been awhile.” He gravitates toward her, tunnel vision where she stands at the end of it. Jaehyun speaks to her as if there is no one else in the room, including you.

And although you two aren’t actually dating, the needles in your chest are causing you great distress. Watching him walk toward another person with hearts in his eyes doesn’t exactly make you feel joyous. It is even worse knowing that you’re supposed to be his pretend partner and you’re too stunned to make a move.

Having to remind yourself that she is the sole reason this arrangement exists in the first place, you collect your emotions and breathe deeply. You follow behind Jaehyun, strutting up and wrapping your arm around his. However, Rose doesn’t notice and her wide eyes look at you in excitement.

“We haven’t met, I’m Rose.” She is quick to pull you into a hug. It startles you, patting her shoulder lightly at how harmonious she is. You didn’t have much of an image of how she was like, but it wasn’t this.

Starting with your introductions, her facial expressions are incredibly expressive: a mixture of enthusiasm and surprise. “Jaehyun mentioned that he was bringing a special someone.” Dang it, even her attitude is super cheery. “You are absolutely stunning, I hope Jaehyun is treating you well.”

Here is your cue. “Jaehyun has been the best. I feel like I can’t live my life without him now.” Look over. Loving eye contact. Smile. “I feel like I got really lucky with him.”

Jaehyun knows you’re playing your part, but the churning in his stomach has to be butterflies making their rounds. He hasn’t felt much affection in a while and so he can’t tell if these feelings stem from lack of affirmations or because it's coming from you.

“Aw, you’re the cutest.” Rose gives you the lightest touch on your wrist, an electrifying buzz that you want more of. A fleeting feeling. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to chat because I am totally being a third wheel right now.”

Rose makes her exit before you two could protest. Turning toward Jaehyun, you’re mumbling underneath your breath, “I can see why you’re absolutely in love with her.”

“More of a mild infatuation, I would say.” He leans up against the wall, pulling you into him so he can hear you better. Your hips touch as he lazily wraps his arm around your back.

“Way out of your league, I would say.” You cross your arms, scoffing. “We have our work cut out for us. It’s probably going to be harder than we thought to convince her you’re the perfect boyfriend.”

Somehow Jaehyun looks even hotter rolling his eyes, paired with a small smirk on his lips and a dimple on his right cheek. “I just love chasing people out of my league.”

There is a brief moment of silence between the both of you, staring into each other’s eyes with an unknowing gaze of understanding. In this suffocating intimacy, you could kiss him, open mouth and completely devour him. He could do the same, tasting your hot lips coated in your expensive lip gloss.

So why don’t you?

Why doesn’t he?

No kissing on the lips.

Nonetheless, you break the intense gaze and ignore all the pent up lust you’re feeling in your chest. Bringing your hand to lightly brush away Jaehyun’s loose strands, he catches your wrist mid way.

You watch as he does the unpredictable: soft lips puckered up against the inside of your wrist. Your heart is pounding in your ears, unable to pull away from how much you’re craving him.

All these impure sensual feelings for Jaehyun came to the surface. It’s easy to admit that he is very attractive and if only he knew how to use his charm, he could have anyone in the palm of his hands. The only thing keeping you from falling for him is the sheer fact that he wouldn’t like you back.

No rules against developing feelings for one another, but that doesn’t mean that you should. It was a mental note you kept for yourself to save you a chance at heartache.

“There aren’t any rules against kissing you anywhere else.” Jaehyun whispers against your skin and slowly drops your hand back to your side.

You can’t let it show how much that affected you, how it practically almost caused you to backtrack on this fake dating situation and to jump into his arms. “I didn’t think there was another part of me you’d kiss.”

“Trust me, there is.” His words could have a million different implications, but somehow you knew just what he was referring to. It shakes your core, bubbles your insides. You’re left without any response and no other thoughts in your head besides ripping his clean linen shirt off of his body.

“Hey lovebirds, come and join us for a toast.” Saved by the bell. Jaehyun takes you by your hand, intertwining your fingers.

You send him a quick glare, “we will be talking about this during Sunday Recap.”

“Oh, I plan to.” Jaehyun chuckles, full of soul and banter. As he leads you to join the rest of the crowd, you’re bewildered at the heightened emotions that stick to your chest.

“I think it’s working. Rose asked me if I was free to hang out with her sometime next week.” Jaehyun ever so nonchalantly plants himself on your plush couch. “She never asks me to hang out first.”

“Mhm, that’s great.” You’re partially listening, as you’re fixing up a story to post on your social media of the flower bouquet that Jaehyun bought on his way to your place. “Have fun.”

“Are you actually listening?” He scoffs. Watching your figure walk toward him, you lean down to show him your phone. The image of flowers displayed on your marble countertop with the note very visibly showing who they’re from. Jaehyun nods in approval, hitting the post button before you could triple check yourself.

“Yeah, I’m listening. You and Rose are hanging out next week, I’m glad this charade is working out for you.” There is a small edge in your tone that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaehyun. He eyes you from the side, trying to decipher the attitude that laces your words.

Something about your demeanor feels off and he’s gotten to know you enough to know that something is bothering you for your lips to turn into a frown. “What are we recapping this Sunday?” He finds that it’s probably best to move on to another topic.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you guys were each other’s firsts?” Sitting next to him, you face him with frustrated furrowed brows and an annoyed expression.

“I didn’t think it was important to mention.” You hated how carefree Jaehyun could be. It makes you feel like you’re overreacting, and in this instance, you could be.

“It’s a bit important. This entire time I thought Rose didn’t like you because you were some lame loser that couldn’t pull someone like her.” Your honesty doesn’t fall short today. It’s as if the more you think about the issue, the more annoyed you get.

Jaehyun, quite offended by that statement, sits up from his normally relaxed position as he is ready to defend himself. “You thought that lowly of me?”

“You made it seem that way.” Throwing your hands in the air, you try to control how loud your voice is growing.

“Or maybe that is just how you perceived me.” He pauses, “Rose and I dated very briefly, three months at most. She broke up with me because I was a bad boyfriend.”

The news of them dating seems to piece all the clues together. The way that Jaehyun looks at Rose makes more sense, it was a look of longing and regret. Rose approached him with full control of the situation, affirming that her decision to break up with him is justified.

“I didn’t buy her flowers, even when she asked. There was a night when it rained and I knew she was on campus without an umbrella, I left her out there because I fell asleep. When we hung out with our friends, I would ignore her.”

You’re taken aback at how negligent Jaehyun had been. “So why did you act that way if you like her so much?”

“I took her for granted and I didn’t know how to be someone’s boyfriend.” It is obvious how long Jaehyun had thought about this. He is too self aware to not have. “She wasn’t going to take me back after I fucked up like that, so I thought it would be good to show her through someone else. How I’ve changed.”

“How do I know it’s not all for show? As if you’re only doing these things to convince everyone you’re boyfriend material until she takes you back and you revert back to your ways.” Your eyes dart to the vase of flowers on your kitchen counter. “There’s no heart in what you do.”

“Are we talking about me and Rose or me and you now?” Jaehyun hits you where it hurts – right in your chest. You’re too stunned to speak, the realization falling on you like heavy bricks.

“Why don’t we talk about us?” You clear your throat, flashback of Jaehyun kissing your wrist entering your thoughts. “What was that the other night?”

Jaehyun doesn’t bother playing dumb. “I was really in the moment.” He rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and rubbing his hands together. “Looking into your eyes… they’re so mesmerizing, like you understand me with just one look. It causes my heart to swell for you.”

“You like Rose.”

“I do, but I’m not blind.” He shoots you a glare. “You’re really going to think that I don’t find you attractive the entire time we've spent together, being intimate with you even if it's fake.”

“It’s not that, Jaehyun.” You sigh, “I find you attractive too, but you have to remember the original reason we’re doing this.”

“And I do. But I can’t help the feelings that surface when I’m with you.” Visibly frustrated, you both take a second to pause in the conversation to recollect yourselves. His chest heaves up and down, trying to process these feelings now that he has finally admitted them out loud.

You are trying to keep your composure cool, but it’s hard to bite your tongue from every tight restriction in your heart. You might actually like Jaehyun and it’s not something you are prepared to face.

“I think we dug our heels a little too deep.” Breaking the silence, you look up at Jaehyun with a kinder and more empathetic expression. The heat in the room is suffocating, all the tension filling the crevices in the walls.

“Perhaps, but I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else.” Jaehyun sits up, facing you with a marvel in his eyes and adoration flooding his pupils. “You’re absolutely incredible, in every way.”

It’s your turn to hold his wrist when he reaches to brush your cheek, “Jae, I think we might have to call it quits.”

“What? But we didn’t break any of the rules.” The sheer sadness in his eyes is painful to witness. It’s like watching a young boy learn how to sacrifice something for the greater good. Jaehyun didn’t want to lose you.

“I broke the one rule I kept to myself and it was not to develop feelings for you.” His wrist drops from your grasp. “I can’t do it anymore, Jaehyun.”

“You fell for me?”

“How could I not? You’re such a great boyfriend to me, even if it was fake.” Sighing, you ponder if you should continue. “I’m irritated at how you’d buy me flowers, but it’s a bouquet of my favorite ones. I can’t take it every time you’re so insistent about driving me home to ensure I make it back safe. You get along with my friends like you’ve known them forever. When you look at me in the midst of a crowd and it’s just us two.”

You’re biting back tears that threaten to form at the rim and gripping tightly at the end of your shirt. This is all a tough pill for the both of you to swallow. It’s almost as if Jaehyun didn’t consider this a possibility when he had asked you to fake date. He thought that since he was so infatuated with Rose, he wouldn’t feel anything for anyone else. On top of that, he knew you saw him as some loser.

“I think we need to just step back from this for a second and take some time to ourselves. I’ve been seeing you every week–”

“But I want to see you every week.” Jaehyun doesn’t mean to be so difficult and in fact, he is usually one to just agree and follow through another person’s decision. However, something within him wants to fight for you.

“I can’t keep ignoring how I feel for you and it’s unfair to all three of us moving forward.” The hope and joy in your face is evidently depleting. Jaehyun can’t do anything to fix it.

“What does this mean for our project then?”

“Well, there isn’t any more group work for us to need to see each other. We can complete our individual parts and upload it to the sheet.” It’s like you’ve already thought this through all on your own and prepared for all the counterarguments he was going to have.

Jaehyun scoffs in disbelief and starts grabbing his jacket. “I understand where you’re coming from, I’ll give you the space you need.”

You can’t even look at him, knowing that you’re not brave enough to face the hurt and pain on his expression. It’s all already in his voice. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I hope you have fun with Rose.”

With that, he makes his exit from your apartment. The weight on your shoulders is lifted and despite the hole in your chest, you feel like this was one of the better options. The other being that you just suppressed the feelings until they finally got together, but you realized it may have caused you more harm than ease.

In the midst of Rose talking, Jaehyun finds himself wondering about how you were doing. He hasn’t been able to stop this sinking feeling in his chest since he left your apartment. The lingering thought of you remains well intact, every little thing makes him want to reach out.

“Jae, are you here or did I lose you somewhere else?” Rose chuckles at the stunned boy.

Perking up, he focuses back on the conversation that he had tuned out of a while ago. If you had asked him two weeks ago how excited he was about this hang out with Rose, he would’ve said that he was through the roof. Now, he isn’t sure how he’s feeling.

“I’m sorry, Rosie.” That’s all he could do, Jaehyun knows this too well. “I’ve just got other things on my mind lately.”

“Are things not going well between you and y/n?” She tilts her head and her eyebrows furrowed together, lending a friendly ear.

Jaehyun shrugs, completely unsure how he could explain the situation with you. “We got into a fight. A lot of feelings became involved that I didn’t know how to handle or react to.”

Rose sighs, “we used to fight a lot and one thing I hated was that you never came back for me.” Her fingers lightly dance around the rim of her glass. “I know you take time to process your emotions, but the other person will never know how you’re feeling or how you felt if you don’t tell them.”

He remains quiet, absorbing the advice that Rose is giving. This hangout was supposed to be one where he got her back with him, not one where she consoles him on his current fake relationship with you.

“I think y/n brings out a side of you that I didn’t get when we were together.” Rose admits, giving a soft and knowing smile. “However, I feel like they’re the only person that gets to have that side of you. I don’t want you to lose that shine that they bring out of you. You’re absolutely radiant together.”

Jaehyun seriously cannot believe what he is hearing. She asks the waiter for the bill and is packing up her things. “Wait, Rose. We’re done here?”

“Jaehyun, you and I both know that we were done a long time ago.” Rose gives Jaehyun a light squeeze on the wrist. “You should see the way you look at y/n, it’s full of want and excitement.”

There is a brief moment of realization for Jaehyun. The overwhelming emotions overtake him and before he knows it, he’s running out the door of the restaurant and on his way to the one place he’s been holding back from heading to: the flower shop below your apartment.

You’re typing the last bit of your part of the project, nearly trying every way to not engage with the thought of Jaehyun. The take out boxes of dinner scatter your counter as you speedily work your way through long paragraphs.

The one thing you knew was that Jaehyun had been out with Rose and the pain from that discovery stuck to your heart like glue. You were better off with numerous distractions than thinking about how heavenly of a time he must be having with the literal love of his life.

The sound of your doorbell halts your ruthless typing. With curiosity, you approach the door. You weren’t expecting anyone tonight, so it was strange that there would be someone looking for you. Through the peephole, Jaehyun stands there in all of his glory.

You’re practically tearing down your door at the sight of him, bewildered and slightly annoyed at the sight of him. “What are you doing here?”

“Something I should’ve done that night at the party.” Before you could fully process his presence, Jaehyun dives into you with lips firmly pressed against yours.

His hot hands cup both of your cheeks, dropping the bouquet of your favorite flowers he had picked up on his way here. But none of that truly mattered more than finally kissing you.

Your heart swells at the passion that Jaehyun kisses with, it’s loving and strong. Something about it suits him perfectly, like a puzzle piece that completes the picture. Kissing you confirmed everything that Jaehyun had been feeling up to this point.

Fireworks exploding in his chest, he feels an abundance of endorphins lighting his system. Jaehyun has been into you all along. He couldn’t pinpoint why it had been so easy with you, like there were no expectations held against him to be someone extraordinary.

He found himself buying you flowers, but not just anything simple or generic. It had to be your favorite, just so he could see the way your eyes light up at the sight of them. He had to be the one to take you home, making sure he got to spend every second he could with you and that he was the one that got you there safely.

He wanted to impress your friends, knowing how much they meant to you. And when he looks in the midst of a crowd, all he sees is you.

Your grip on his shirt almost makes him not want to let go, like you’re so afraid of him going away again. Nonetheless, he takes your hands into his and pulls away. The look of pure shock on your face makes him chuckle, a full robust laugh from the chest. He could kiss you again right then and there.

“You’re so cute when you do that.” Jaehyun smiles gently, holding you in his arms so lovingly like he has done so before. This feels incredibly familiar to him, but it no longer feels like a show. This feeling is very real and the swelling in his chest is very much aching at the sight of you. He wants to give you the world.

“We broke our first rule.” Your mind draws a blank after the kiss and Jaehyun smiling before you as if you two hadn’t ended things a week ago. He picks up the bouquet of your favorite flowers, handing them toward you with inviting eyes.

“No more rules, no more fake dating. I want the real thing.” Jaehyun swallows his spit, noticing how dry his throat had gotten at his confession. You’re staring at him as if he was seriously out of his mind. “With you.”

And you didn’t think that at the end of all of this, Jaehyun would be at your door with a bouquet of flowers asking you to be his. You proved to Jaehyun that he could love another, while being a better person for them. You truly brought out his boyfriend material, proving to the whole world that Jung Jaehyun is only boyfriend material for you.

#nct scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #nct 127 #nct scenario #nct fluff #jung jaehyun #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun imagines #nct 127 scenarios #jaehyun x reader #nct x reader

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verosikastrikerexcuser · 12 days

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Okay. So the new ep. I was so mad about this line from Stolas I can't lie: "I didn't realize you think so low of me"

Oh really? What reasons have you given him to think highly of you Stolas? You:

A) Gave Blitz a choice between his career or having sex with you (Blitz's career also supports his daughter and the other IMP employees, their well being was on the line too). And to boot, this proposition took place while Blitz was in a high pressure scenario being hunted down by a crazy serial murderer human trying to kill him. Which Stolas was aware of and watching. He chose that moment to make his proposition and laud the grimoire over Blitz's head.

B) Constantly make weird fetishy remarks about Blitz's species/race, calling him an impish little plaything and "itty bitty". Also while being weird towards other imps too, using your butler as a stress toy and calling Moxxie, Millie and other random imps "little ones" all the time.

C) After the power imbalance of controlling his business was set up by you, you proceeded to constantly toy with Blitz despite how much he resisted and showed he clearly doesn't like it. You give him an annoying demeaning pet name he didn't ask for with the "Blitzie" shit. You make crude sexual remarks that make him uncomfortable and make them in front of others too, humiliating him in front of both strangers and people he is close to. You grab at his face condescendingly. You idly use him as an ash tray. You treat him with a completely disrespectful degrading demeanor and there is nothing he can do or say about it that will make you stop - in Loo Loo land when Blitz expresses that he does not want you to attempt to solicit sex that day from him you respond "You are so cute when you are serious" like its funny hes mad about that. All of this unwanted sexual attention is to the point Blitz has a panic button for when YOU specifically show up at his office like what else is there to say really.

D) You also treat your daughter like shit. You chase Blitz instead of focusing on her even though shes clearly very mentally ill and struggling. You make weird sexual remarks about Blitz, the guy who you're cheating on your wife with which is causing chaotic familial breakdown in the home Octavia has to live in (and Octavia KNOWS its Blitz specifically that you're cheating with she is very aware). She is clearly constantly uncomfortable and yet you put her through that several times Stolas.

Then you try to do the right thing and free Blitz. Good, great, a step in the right direction. But when hes so unused to you respecting him and thinks you must be lying you have a whiny little breakdown and storm off about it.

BUT NO WONDER BLITZ THOUGHT IT WAS SOME KIND OF FUCKING JOKE AND THEN WAS LIKE WTF YOU STUPID FUCK. Look at everything you've done holy shit! I felt Blitz's "What the fuck" in my soul. What is with this shows attempts since S2 at a weird perversion of the truth. What is with this pathetic poor me I'm just a poor widdle victim! Act from Stolas. Its just so gross its disgusting.

Stolas was born with his wealth. He was born with immense wealth, connections, authority, and physical power. He never has had to comprehend making the kinds of choices Blitz has had to in order to make rent. And Stolas actively exploited Blitz's class. He actively exploited it along with Blitz's obligations to his employees and daughter, those he loves, to get sex out of him. And then when Blitz sees him for what he is he is a self victimizing baby over it. How slimy can you get?

#helluva boss critical #anti stolas #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop critical #stolas hate #stolas critical #critical stuff #God the way that imp smut book screenshot is from a scene where #Stolas is sat at the family dinner table with Octavia right next to him #This dude is such a creep in every way I s2g

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blue-jisungs · 2 months

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ONE SHOT

author's note. first of all thank u @kyrjnie for helping me out w the idea fot this one!!! its kinda ironic how it was one of the fics i had a plan for but it ended up being the last one lmaooo and also @eternalgyuuu w the banner<3 BUT my dudes its the last fic of the 2 year event!! thank u for sticking around - both around me and the event hehe - i'm very grateful <3 i hope you more or less enjoyed it!!!

summary. when a stranger keeps you company

warnings. its said that there was a creepy man following yn:(

word count. 1339

seungcheol has a good heart.

no matter how scary may he look or how tough may he act, deep down he always has and will have a pure heart.

he never considered it a flaw. not even now, that he is way too far from the stop where he was supposed to get off. in the middle of the week, at almost 1am.

but he can’t leave you alone, can he?

it’s not like he knows you… but on his way home at this late hour, he listened to music and just drifted away. the subway was gradually emptying, not many people going as far as him.

but there was this one girl, who must have entered before him – you were already here, dozed off, when he took the subway.

he glanced at you, subconsciously smiling at how cute you are. that was another thing about seungcheol – he was so pure. upon seeing an adorable thing, person or anything else, he’d always smile and adore it.

and today it just happened to be you. he liked to think about others – one would call it being nosy but he genuinely cared about people, even strangers.

so when he was about to approach his stop and leave, he furrowed his brows. there was this one man at the end of the subway car, eyeing you from time to time.

and seungcheol despite glaring at him and having an overall intimidating aura (especially with the freshly dyed red hair) didn’t manage to scare him off. he just had a bad feeling and decided to wait for you to wake up.

the creep must have been either stupid or stupidly stubborn since he just shrugged and relaxed in his seat.

which is why now seungcheol is 13 stops away from his house and at the end of the line.

the subway halted, announcing it’s the last stop.

he sighed and stood up, observing with a corner of his eye how the stranger left the car.

seungcheol stretched and sat next to you, hearing a muffled sound of a studio ghibli soundtrack playing in your earphones. he tapped your shoulder gently, observing your reaction.

you seemed to gradually wake up – scrunching your nose, stretching, opening an eye open, fighting a yawn and then finally, a sleepy gaze meeting his.

your eyes widened upon seeing an unfamiliar man this close to you and he immediately moved a bit further.

“sorry to wake you up, it’s just… it’s the last stop” he smiled and you noticed his cute dimples. nodding, you grabbed your purse and blinked slowly.

“um, thank you. i get off here either way but i really appreciate it” you sent him a warm smile and you two left the subway.

the weather was a bit stuffy but it was nice to catch some fresh air. you saw the stranger looking at something behind your back.

“do you get off here too?” you asked hesitantly.

you take this route everyday at this hour, after work. you should’ve recognized his face if he was a regular too – especially with his handsome face and bright red hair. he shook his head softly.

“i don’t” he smiled tenderly and his cute, brown eyes moved to need yours “i… there was a weird guy, he’s over there. i couldn’t bring myself to leave you alone. sorry if that made you uncomfortable”

you felt your stomach twist at the thought of some weirdo following you but then… the man in front of you willingly missed his stop to prevent anything from happening.

“what’s, uhm, your name? if i can…” you didn’t finish, shyness taking over you. but the redhead grinned, the cute dimples poking out again.

“seungcheol. and yours?” he asked, hiding his hands in the pocket of his jean jacket.

“y/n” you introduced yourself, unable to stop your own lips from forming into a smile – the gesture was too infectious not to do so. “seungcheol, thank you so much. you’re a real gentleman, i thought… there’s no good left in the world. but you proved me wrong

he scoffed, shaking his head.

“no problem” he grinned and hesitated for a moment, biting down on his plump bottom lip. then he whipped out his phone in a cherry case and checked the time “i still have like… half an hour before the next ride. and i would sleep way more peacefully if i knew you arrived home safe. can i walk you back?”

normally, you’d decline. but upon slightly turning around you noticed a weird man glancing at you two. besides, you had a good feeling about seungcheol. maybe you shouldn’t… but there was just something so warm and genuine about him that you agreed.

with a small nod, you grabbed his arm. turning around, you passed the man.

“i know we’re strangers but sleeping on the subway doesn’t seem like a safe idea” seungcheol said softly.

the night was peaceful, stars shining beautifully on the navy sky. a soft gust of wind blew in your face, running through your hair.

“i don’t usually do this, don’t worry” you scoffed and fixed the bag on your arm. “today was just exhausting and i made the mistake of putting some calm songs”

he smiled and took a glance over his shoulder. the man was nowhere to be seen. good.

you had a small talk with him since your walk home usually takes up to 10 minutes. upon arriving at the entrance to the staircase, you slowly let go of his arm. stepping at the stair so you’d be on his eye level, he grinned cutely at the gesture.

“i really appreciate your gesture, seungcheol. i know i said it like, five times already but… you know” you said shyly, fidgeting with a strap of your bag.

“and as i said: no problem. seriously, y/n” the man nodded and your eyes suddenly widened.

“wait here a second!” you gasped and entered the code. seungcheol only saw a glimpse of you disappearing in the hallway.

seungcheol let out a scoff and hid his hands in the pockets of his jacket, suddenly taking a deep breath.

you’re so adorable.

just when he was about to check the time, the door swung open and you appeared in them again. there was a silver package in your hand, your chest moving up and down irregularly.

“the… stairs…” you breathed out and he laughed, noticing your messy hair. “i almost… tripped…”

shaking your head, you put the item in his calloused hand.

“i made you a quick sandwich. i figured you’re hungry and to even slightly return the favour, you know?” you smiled and tucked your hands in the pocket of your jeans. he smiled sweetly, his heart melting on the spot “it’s, um, lettuce, ham and cheese. nothing crazy, sorry”

“thank you so much. i bet it’ll be delicious” he hummed and silence fell between you two.

seungcheol bit his bottom lip.

he had only one shot. he had to be casual.

“um, i was wondering–”

“hey, if you ever–”

you exchanged surprised looks when your voices merged upon speaking up at the same time. you both laughed, cute wrinkles forming around his eyes.

“you go first” you insisted.

“if you ever need like… a scary dog privilege or some help, i can give you my number” he said with a boyish smile. the words were said and now…

“even help with ordering a coffee?” you asked. seungcheol caught the hidden meaning and just nodded.

“of course” he said and you exchanged numbers, moonlight shining on his handsome face.

“and um, text me when you get home. i wanna know if my guard arrived safely too” you hummed, wrapping your arms around your torso. seungcheol saluted and slowly began to walk away back to the station.

you stood there until he disappeared from your sight and he turned around like, 3 times.

with heart thumping in your chest and a foolish smile on his face, cheol was glad he took that one shot.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

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sohnric · 4 months

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distraction, a fatal attraction – l. chan

pairing: lee chan x fem! reader

genre: strangers to lovers au, college au, fluff. a weird kind of situationship between yn and dino, drunk dino because svt can't stop mentioning his excessive drinking which is so university student of him and i headcanon him as my drinking buddy.

warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of throwing up, smoking

word count: 7k

a/n: started writing this literally last may. it's now february and i finally finished it after rewriting it like three times... anyways idk how many more svt fics i'll post in the future but i had to get this out in the open lmaoo. as always thank u beloved @csenke for beta reading despite not even being a svt stan <3

You and Lee Chan seem to have the same clubbing tendencies. That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so. (Or - you and Lee Chan have kissed a concerning amout of times before he finally asks for permisson.)

“Can I kiss you?” Chan asks you one March evening and you don’t know why exactly you find yourself so surprised.

By default, it’s only natural for the boy to ask– the two of you aren’t dating, not even close to that, you’d say– and while you wouldn’t really mind if he kissed you without giving you a warning and swooped you off your feet on the stairs leading up to your dormitory building (for you found yourself a little too lightheaded and on the edge of your seat whenever he’s around lately, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach only further proving your assumptions– you have a silly, little crush on the male), you must admit that him asking for permission is quite nice. Surprising, but nice.

One might think you’re surprised because there was nothing that could lead you to this scenario– one might think you and Lee Chan were nothing but friends, not even close ones, per se (you just have a group of mutual friends that somehow always brought you two together when either one of you got excluded out of their conversations, ending up as each other’s, although pleasant, last resort). One might even think the two of you are hanging out alone for the first time together, which isn’t that far away from the truth in the first place, but still, is a blatant lie. What’s so surprising about the question to you, then?

The fact that this isn’t the first time you and Lee Chan would be kissing, and the sheer fact leaves you wondering if he’s forgotten, or if he never really remembered in the first place.

You and Chan have kissed…. an embarrassing amount of times for people that aren’t dating, or anywhere close to the said establishment. The circumstances of said kisses differ from time to time, and while you thought that they were meaningless at first, you must admit that as time went by, you selfishly and almost a little pathetically looked forward to each and every time where a similar situation might occur and his lips would end up on yours again.

The first time you and Chan kissed was also the first time you two met. It’s a strange sentence to use when describing a story about your first kiss with someone that you’re currently (hopefully) on a date with, but it’s the one you have to use, because it’s true.

The group you walked into the club with on the first day of orientation during your freshman year of college consisted of all your upperclassmen friends– the girls you had met in high school and didn’t fail to keep in contact with: Lee Chaeryeong, Kim Minjeong and Huh Yunjin. You would trust these three girls with your whole entire life, and so when they had told you that they could show you around the campus and let you in on all the secrets you only learn with months of attending college, you felt like you just won the lottery.

After the cheerful senior Choi Soobin walked your humongous group through the campus and showed all of your classmates the fundamental parts of the college building (the gym, the labs and most importantly, the cafeteria), he invited you all to the open semester party in the club just a few minutes away from the campus. And yes, the party was originally supposed to be mainly for the freshmen, but as soon as you texted your friends to let them know about your whereabouts, they announced to you that there is no way you were going back to your dorm room so quickly– the whole campus was supposed to be on that party, and that’s exactly why you were forced to stay.

“So, how do you like it here so far?” Chaeryeong asks you as you start swinging your hips to the rhythm of the music, the DJ surprisingly not as bad as you expected him to be from the reviews you heard from the girls when standing in the queue leading towards the club.

“The music isn’t as bad as you said it will be,” you yell over the music into your friend’s ear, having her roll her eyes and shake her head at you in disbelief.

“I meant the campus, not the club, you silly goose,” she clarifies, making you gasp at the sentence.

“Oh!” you laugh. “Well, I’m less frightened, that’s for sure.”

“That’s gonna come back to you once the exam season starts,” Chaeryeong notes, snickering. The comment is slightly terrifying– therefore you choose to ignore it and stick it somewhere to the back of your brain to come back to when the time is right and your anxiety is no longer a far-away thing, but a very present and real issue.

“Ah! I see Mingyu there!” she suddenly screams, pointing somewhere behind you. “I’m gonna go talk to him, can you try finding our table and going back to Minjeong and Yunjin?”

“I’ll be fine,” you nodded, trying to believe the sentence just as much as you were trying to convince your friend of it. The place was filled with people, and although you didn’t feel particularly in danger, you were getting a little scared of getting walked over to death in the wave of the drunk upperclassmen enjoying themselves in the club.

Feet dragging you through the crowd painfully slowly, you try hard to find your table on the sides of the club. Your eyes never really had a 20/20 vision, but the neon lighting of the club and the glass of Martini you’d had before stepping to the dance floor with Chaeryeong really didn’t help you in seeing things clearly. No matter how hard you try, you can’t find your two other friends anywhere, and if you are being completely honest, you’re almost certain the table you previously sat at with your group was now occupied with someone completely else– meaning that your dear friends either left to the dancefloor, or left the club completely (which you doubted, but the possibilities were never really 0).

And so with that, you drag yourself towards the bar. You think that was a better option to choose in this situation– since you thought that going out for some fresh air is just going to get you kidnapped if you went there alone– and you also figured that you’d be easier to find by your lost friends if you were somewhere out in the open instead of in the corners of the humid room. Ordering yourself another Martini to pass the time, you drink the beverage in slow sips before you feel the presence of someone on the bar stool next to you.

You look up at the stranger beside you, noticing a boy around your age sending you a shy, yet charming look. “Do you mind if I sit here?” he asks.

“Not really,” you answer, watching as the boy nods, his shoulders relaxing as he orders himself a drink.

“Are you here alone?” he asks as he looks back at you again, face tugging into a panicked expression when he realizes the implication his words may hold. “I’m not asking in a creepy way, or anything, it’s just- I’m a freshman and I lost the people I came here with, so I’m kind of alone here as well…” he quickly explains, eyes big and honest, “you just looked like you could use some company,” he explains, making an endeared smile flash over your features.

Shaking your head at his tangent, you wave him off with your hand. “Don’t worry, I got it,” you laugh, “and the same as you, actually. I came here with my friends, but they disappeared somewhere, so I just sat here and figured they’ll find me eventually.”

“Great minds think alike,” the boy laughs, holding up his glass before taking another sip, “well, until that happens, I guess we can hang out, can’t we? My name’s Chan.”

“Y/N,” you introduce yourself, “it’s nice meeting you, Chan.”

The two of you talk about everything and anything: where he comes from, where you come from, which dorm building you’re staying at, which dorm building he’s staying at, your major (literature) and his major (dance), your friends and his friends– and with the increasing amount of information you get out of him, the pull of gravity sends you more and more towards the boy. Chan is charming, talkative and fun. You find yourself attracted to him each time he cracks a joke or teases you about your choice of your favorite movie (‘This is the first time I’ve heard anyone say The gods must be crazy is their favorite movie!’), and that’s exactly why you don’t find it in you to say no when he asks if he could buy you a drink.

One drink turns into two– three, four, eventually even five– and you progressively start to forget all about your lost friends as you ask Chan to show you what being a dance major is all about and invite him to the dancefloor, swinging your hips back and forth to the rhythm.

You don’t know if they teach this type of choreography in dance school, but as the songs change from more upbeat to less energetic and more sensual, you find yourself a little too enchanted with the way Chan’s features soften under the neon pinks and purples, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck and stepping closer to him. His arm ends up on your lower back– dangerously close to your bottom, which you aren’t that opposed to anyway– and when his nose brushes against the shell of your ear in the middle of one of the songs to talk to you, you can’t help but press yourself against him closer.

“You’re kind of good at this, for a literature major,” he hums, his voice making shivers run down your spine.

And sure, it could’ve been just the alcohol levels in your blood that made you so dangerously close to him, but as you study his features– although a little hazily, but still fully taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and the sparkles in his eyes– you don’t have it in you to pull away when the boy leans in and kisses you, lips enchanting you the same way his moves have.

His kiss is heated and sensual, the one that makes your knees buckle and your mind go on overdrive, creating all sorts of fantasies in your delirious brain, and you must admit you don’t mind it when his hands slip further down to grope your butt, the two of you still lazily moving to the rhythm of the song in the background. The sound is coming in a little muffled to your ears as you let yourself fully indulge in the moment– it’s not every day you make out with an extremely attractive guy in the club– before your oxygen runs out and you have to pull away from him, instead studying Chan’s swollen lips from up close. They are inviting you for more, especially as his eyes open and look at you all blown-out and hazy, but you figure that he can wait. You have to catch your breath first and get yourself together– if you don't want to come completely undone in the middle of the crowded dance floor, that is.

You could honestly stare into his face forever, if you wanted to– except, you don’t have the chance as a loud voice from behind you calls: “Y/N! There you are!”

Annoyed thoughts fill your brain the very second you hear Minjeong from behind your back– where were they for the last hour? Of course they had to find you when the night was finally getting good– but you turn towards her nonetheless, showing her an innocent smile. You notice the girl is accompanied by the rest of your girl clover, alongside a tall guy that shows your companion a mischievous grin. “So I see you and Chan have already met and we don’t have to introduce you to each other anymore,” he says.

The sentence has you nervously clear your throat and take a step away from Chan. The boy ironically heaves out a: “Mingyu! How nice to see you again, after an hour.”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t having fun.”

Feeling the atmosphere grow awkward, you quickly look at your friends, smiling tightly to try and save the situation (while also acting as if you didn’t just finish making out with their friend’s friend). “Where did you all go anyway?”

“Oh, we met Seungkwan and Vernon, so we decided to sit together, and then Chae came with Mingyu after some time, and that’s when we realized we were each missing a person… so here we are,” Minjeong clarifies, having you nod.

In conclusion, this is the story of how you met Lee Chan. What was supposed to be a one-night thing at a club for you, never really expecting to see the boy ever again (except from accidental meetings on the campus that could very well be played off as neither of you remembering), turned into a whole another situation as the two of you now shared a surprisingly tightly-knit friend group.

You never spoke about the kiss again. Or much at all, really.

Kind of disappointed with the fact, but still kind of okay with the situation, you found yourself falling into rhythm with the newly found world at university. You’d gotten used to the all-nighters, the weird partying in the middle of the week on a school night, to the hookup culture you’ve never really found yourself fitting in with, and with the life that comes to you when living in a dormitory. All of these somehow had the presence of Lee Chan included, though, as you learned on another Wednesday night (those are the designated bar runs when you’re friends with Chwe Vernon and Boo Seungkwan– since their Thursdays are free and they can get as drunk as they want without fearing being hungover in class), much to your surprise, you and the charismatic boy have the same clubbing tendencies.

That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so.

It doesn’t help that the both of you were light-weights– or at least that’s what you’ve been told.

You two don’t talk to each other much before getting a few drinks in, since you’re a little shy when it comes to the charming, but endearing boy. What his reasoning for the seeming lack of interest in you when sober is, you’re not really sure– but as the night usually goes, you bet with Vernon on who can drink more tequila shots before their gag reflex hits, and sooner or later, you find yourself drunk at the bar.

Once your otherwise stoic friend feels that it’s too much for him to handle and trails to the toilets (accompanied by a sulking Sungkwan complaining that ��He always does this, ruining the night for everyone!’), you allow yourself to get back to the dance floor. Sounds like a good idea in theory, but is a bad idea in practice– somewhere along the way, you start to feel too dizzy in the heat of the crowd, the lightheadedness making you feel sick. Your figure is quickly dragged outside by a person you didn’t notice has been keeping their eyes on you, and only when you finally slip to the floor and sit on the pavement in front of the crowded bar, you recognise the guardian angel staring down at you with hazy eyes

“You looked like you were going to faint over there,” Chan hums, a perky expression playing with his face. There’s a boyish grin spread over his lips as he stares at your disheveled composure, the two of you coming into a weird sense of déja vu you’re convinced only a few shots of tequila can bring you into on a Wednesday night.

“Oh, I was going to,” you nod, watching as the boy settles next to you on the ground. The place around you is buzzing in true college fashion– people smoking, drinking off-the-counter alcohol straight from the bottle they got at the corner shop down the street because it’s cheaper than the shots in the club, people meeting and talking about their majors and where they’re from, making new connections.

“Thank god I was there to rescue you, then,” Chan chuckles, shoving you with his elbow.

“Yeah, my guardian angel,” you hum dreamily, giggling at the ridiculousness of your comment.

“Saw Vernon running off with Seungkwan tailing him,” he nods, “now that’s not a guardian angel.”

“That’s a guardian devil for sure,” you hum, pursing your lips. “Wouldn’t want to have Seungkwan as my caretaker. He complains too much.”

“They argue like a married couple,” Chan snickers.

“It’s the curse of being roommates. After a certain amount of time, you start to view each other like you’re married,” you hum, nodding to yourself.

“Do you consider Minjeong to be your wife?”

“No,” you sigh, shrugging, “she’s too immature to be my wife. I think of her more like my child, actually.”

“Well, looking at you right now, you don’t seem to be the more mature one out of the duo,” he pokes a finger to your side, making you jolt away at the contact. Furrowing your brows at him, clearly a little offended, you huff at him.

“The roles change when I drink. That’s how marriage works,” you say, closing your eyes and pressing your lips together, nodding, fully pleased with yourself.

Chan laughs at you. “I thought you said she was more like your child?”

“Then stop thinking, Chan.”

“You were the one who said it!” he points out, shaking his head in disbelief. You’re not sure to what extent you can blame this on the effect of alcohol– what can you say. Sometimes you get too tied up in your own lies.

“Oh,” you snicker, “right.”

“Dummy,” he teases, flicking the side of your thigh, making your blood boil with frustration.

“Who are you calling dummy?” you argue, having a perfect comeback to snap back at the boy. “Weren’t you the one coming to the wrong class for 2 weeks?”

Chan’s whole composure crumbles, a serious look tinted with hints of shame overtaking his previously grinning face. “Who told you that?”

“Not relevant,” you shrug. You find that it’s the best to keep the identity of the mole confidential. (It was Mingyu.)

“Was it Seungkwan?”

“No.”

“So it was.”

Sometimes you wonder just how clueless Lee Chan really is. Although you don’t think he’s slow, you must admit that he does have his moments that keep you wondering just how he can operate in the world without being used or manipulated on a daily basis. Is anyone keeping an eye on him? What if he accidentally joins a cult one day?

“Well, whoever told me wasn’t the one going to a completely different class for 2 weeks straight, so–”

“Look, it’s not my fault they make the schedule so difficult to read! The classes were overlapping on the thing, and I didn’t know which one applied to me, so I just assumed I could choose,” this has you laughing out loud at the boy, “and so I just chose one. I didn’t know those were electives. I didn’t even sign up for any electives! Can you believe that? We are supposed to have electives?”

He looks so endearing as he speaks, laughing to himself and gesturing with his arms. There’s a sense of fondness pooling in your stomach as you reach over and plant a soft, quick peck to his lips. The male seems to be caught off-guard as he stops in his tracks, not a single word coming out of his lips after your action– and truth be told, although you’re kind of glad for the silence, the thought of scaring him away makes you a little anxious. When you look at him from the side, though, the boy is grinning.

Scattering to your feet, you wobbly waddle back into the humid building. You don’t think either of you could continue on with the conversation after your actions, and so you figure the best way to go around this is to leave. “Well, I’ll see you on the dance floor, Channie.”

The third time you manage to lock your lips with his is no different. It’s January now, though, and Seungkwan decided to host his birthday in one of the houses you can rent on the beach. It isn't as fun as it would've been in summer and you could go for a swim, but let’s be realistic– you'd never say no to a good birthday celebration.

There’s havoc erupting all around you as your friend group sings the birthday song to Seungkwan. You all had something to drink prior to the cake ceremony, since some of you came sooner than the others and you figured that you have to wait for everyone with the cake, and so the singing now resembles a mating call of five dolphins more than the casual, harmonic birthday song.

Seungkwan is sitting at the table, the rest of you gathered around him– some with glasses in their hands, some recording the commotion with their phones– and when the song is over and the birthday boy made his wish, he blows out the candles on the cake. Clapping resonates through the little kitchen, everyone ready for the cake, when Chan pushes the older one’s face straight into the icing.

It only takes Seungkwan half a second before he starts chasing the little devil around the beach house. The younger one is laughing at his own antics– which you must admit, although a little childish, you find to be quite endearing– and the older one curses at him with the most colorful vocabulary you’ve ever heard him say out loud. Not even Lee Chan’s own mother has ever scolded him in a way Boo Seungkwan is able to.

“Do you think Seungkwan would mind if I start cutting the cake without him?” Minjeong asks as she gets out a large knife– she looks a little threatening, you must say– which has you shrugging.

“I think he’s preoccupied right now,” you say.

“Yeah, but I’ve waited for this cake for over two hours,” she grunts, “so if he doesn’t want to cut it, I’ll do it for him,” she shrugs to herself and proceeds with her intentions.

Minjeong cuts straight through the face imprint of Boo Seungkwan in his own cake, slicing the red velvet into equal parts to put on the paper plates Vernon found somewhere in the back cupboards of the kitchen. “Do you want some?”

“In a minute,” you laugh, shaking your head at your roommate, “I’ll go get them before they kill each other. I think the cake is enough to make truce fall over this war.”

“Stay safe out there,” Chaeryeong hums, nodding as she takes a paper plate and puts a chunky slice of the cake on, taking a fork into her hand and tasting the icing. “It’s surprisingly good even with Seungkwan’s skin cells in it.”

Minjeong slaps the other girl’s back, gritting her teeth. “Of course it’s good! I baked that shit for 2 hours and Y/N wouldn’t help, because she didn’t want to ruin it–”

(You just didn’t feel like baking. You don’t want to have another fight with your roommate about it, though, and that’s another excuse to leave the kitchen and go find Chan with his murderer.)

Peering your eyes around the whole beach house, you fail to find Seungkwan anywhere. Assuming you two accidentally missed each other and he’s back reunited with his cake, your legs automatically lead you on the patio, where you find Chan resting against the railway. He is wearing a leather jacket, his hair now a little longer than when you first met him in September, and when the noise of the back door opening lands into his ears, he makes a turn and watches you cross the space between you, all while eyeing your naked legs.

You contemplated if wearing a mini skirt in the middle of January was a good idea, but the satisfaction running through your veins at his hungry, yet collected eyes make it all worth it.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks. You shake your head in answer, but he pays it no attention as he takes off his jacket and puts it around your shoulders, the smell of his cologne filling your nose like a blissful drug. You’ve always liked attention, but when it comes to Lee Chan, you are twice as satisfied when he pays you just a mere glance.

“Not anymore,” you hum, smiling to yourself. “Seungkwan gave up on murdering you?”

“I think it was more of a health concern for him. He was breathing so heavily after a few minutes of running that I thought he was going to suffocate,” Chan snickers, making you laugh.

“I’d sleep with one eye open tonight anyway,” you peep, “just in case.”

“Oh, definitely,” he nods, grinning. “I won’t even take any drinks from him in case he poisons them. Better be safe than sorry.”

He takes out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, lights up one for himself and offers you one as well. Even though you always promise yourself you’re quitting and that smoking is a bad habit you should overcome, you eagerly nod and watch him with half-lidded eyes as he lights it for you, one hand close to your face shielding the lighter from the chilly breeze, just like every time. You haven't had that much to drink yet, but the effect of nicotine always makes your head spin when the smoke fills your lungs. Truth be said, though, you are afraid that the proximity of your friend doesn’t help much with the weakness of your knees either.

“Come inside, you’re gonna catch a cold,” he mumbles when the both of you are done smoking, hands gripping the sides of his open jacket on your body, tugging you towards him just the slightest amount.

Like another bad habit the both of you have to break, he seems to pause for a second, as if questioning himself one more time before he goes for it and places a short peck to your lips, leading you to the beach house again, now flushed and internally squealing.

The fourth time, it happens on his own birthday party.

It’s too late in the semester for any of you to experience a big party, the exam season being just around the corner. You still managed to gather and celebrate nonetheless– the boys letting you into their dorm building, your little friend group fitting inside of the communal kitchen on the end of the hall. People passing by look at you with half concerned, half annoyed faces at the commotion– which is understandable, nobody wants ruckus just down the hall when they’re supposed to be working on the last-minute assignments– but you don’t mind it much, telling yourself it’s not your problem in the first place and you’re allowed to have a bit of fun once in a while, as long as you’re not the one being wronged in the moment.

A bottle of champagne is taken out of the fridge by the hands of the birthday boy, the commotion around you happily cheering and clapping (only Chaeryeong hides away from the pointed tip of the bottle, knowing all too well that Chan is not to be trusted with things that can explode), and while Mingyu encourages the boy to pop the champagne open out of the window, you all realize that the action is indeed, not possible.

“Don’t tell me you got the one with the lid that screws on!” Seungkwan turns around to scream into Vernon’s face, having the poor man shrug to himself.

“You can’t really tell in the store when the seal is on–”

“Then you should’ve double checked–” the nagging would go on further if it wasn’t for the last bits of common sense from the birthday boy himself (that Seungkwan would protect with everything in him, making sure their youngest has the best birthday ever, but would never admit to it outloud), as he just unscrews the lid and flicks it out of the opened window instead, earning himself a couple of cheers and claps from the rest of the group.

The bottle gets passed around the circle, each of you chugging the sparkly alcohol straight from it– because pouring the drinks would take too much effort, and also, there weren't even enough glasses for everyone to pour the beverage into anyway.

The tallest one out of the gathering takes a cake out of the overstuffed fridge, lighting a singular candle in the middle and holding it up in front of the birthday boy’s face. There are sparkles in Chan’s eyes despite the poor condition of the cake– it’s one of those you get discounted in the dollar store, one of those that don’t even have candles on them and you have to get them yourself (which is exactly why Chan’s cake only has a singular, yellow candle in the middle)– and you find yourself admiring the sheer joy and appreciation in his orbs with fondness in your heart.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you–”

“Happy birthday, dear Channie!” Seungkwan’s vocal abilities shine through in the heartfelt song, the dramaticness of your whole group never denying itself as all of them make sure to sing to Chan with as much theatrical over-exaggeration as they can. Chan watches the flame with an inkling in his eye you can’t quite place. He looks adorable, you think.

You watch from behind as he blows out the candle. Something inside of you beams at the sight of your friend growing older– the fact that you’re here, celebrating with him moving something in you. You don’t often like it when people get older, but you think birthday celebrations make the sentiment worth it. In a moment of particular fondness, you hug the boy from the back– where you’ve been standing, considering the crammed nature of the kitchen– and whisper a giddy ‘Happy birthday!’ into his ear.

The male turns his head to you, a grin settling on his lips as he scans your face from up close. He looks at you with a look that you can’t really read, but makes you all warm from the inside. It’s different to the way he usually looks at you, and you only decipher it when he quickly leans towards your face and presses a peck to your lips. Only then it starts to all make sense.

He does it in front of everybody, the rest of your friends whistling at the action. Your heart leaps a little as you wrestle Chan off with a laugh, trying hard to keep the unseriousness of it all. If you can keep lying to your friends about the way you feel towards the male, maybe you’ll even manage to convince yourself.

The cake is taken away from his grasp and placed onto the table, ready to be served. You keep a calculated distance away from him, but that still doesn’t keep you from watching the boy from afar. There’s a certain haziness in his eyes when you stare at him from across the room and an aftertaste of vodka on your tongue when you lick it off your lips.

The fifth time, it happens when you gather to celebrate passing your exams.

College kids have only one way of celebrating the joys of life (as well as only one way of dealing with sorrows), and that is– you guessed it– alcohol. The whole friend group gathered in the common kitchen of the boy’s dormitories again, soju bottles ringing against each other as you cheered and drowned in the taste of the liquor. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t watching Chan the whole time, the endearing twinkles in his eyes making you foolishly drink more and more, a weird desire in you just begging to be drowned out, since you couldn’t do anything about it.

Once the night was over and the bottles were all emptied, the boys decided to walk you back to your dorm building.

“Gyu, it’s literally a 10 minute walk across the campus. What could possibly happen on the way there?” Minjeong laughed, but the commotion followed you outside nonetheless.

“It’s dark outside!” Mingyu insisted. “You never know what could happen. I don’t want the responsibility of your dead bodies on my hands.”

“Chaeryeong is feral enough to fight off any creeps alone, you don’t have to worry about us,” Minjeong joked, but the boys followed you outside nonetheless, grabbing their coats and escaping the warmth of their dorms.

You find yourself trailing behind the group, the essence of soju lulling you to a peaceful slumber that you perform despite still being on the go, your brain coated with the incoherent buzz. Lee Chan finds his stance next to you, cautiously watching over your step as you shuffle across the sidewalk, a gentle voice coaxing you awake.

“Got any plans for the winter break?” he asks.

“Probably just going to stay home with my parents for a bit,” you muse, shrugging. “Have lots of naps… I need to recharge. This semester was too hectic.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that,” Chan admits, chuckling at your shared despair.

Kicking the pebbles under your feet, you watch as the male indulges in a little game of football with you, passing the chosen rock back to you each time you kick it too far. The air is crisp and you sniffle a little from the cold every once in a while, but every time you catch the playful twinkle in Chan’s eyes when the pebble hits the side of your shoe again, you feel a bit of warmth engulfing you from the inside.

“I think this whole thing would be far less enjoyable if it wasn’t for you guys,” Chan admits, licking his lips. He’s right– it’s always better to have someone to rely on in university. You can’t imagine going to school and not having a familiar face to fall back to any time you feel lonely. It’s easier when you know all the insider tips from your older upperclassmen friends– when you have a default friend group you fit into without actually attempting to make any new friends yourself. Suddenly, you’re awfully thankful for everyone.

“Yeah. Although they did turn me into an alcoholic, it seems,” you chuckle, earning yourself an amused giggle coming from Chan.

“Oh, for sure,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck. “We have to tune it down next semester. Wouldn’t wanna end up in AA instead of graduating.”

“Now, that’s a long way from here,” you say, shaking your head in amusement.

“You never know before it’s too late, to be fair.”

You don’t realize it back then, but Chan is always somehow there when you take it too far, taking note of your drunken needs and providing you safety from creeps in the club. Lee Chan holds your hair back when you throw up, your stomach too weak on certain nights. He is there when you want to dance and also when you want to cool down. He’s your drinking buddy, sure, but the reality is greater than that– he always wants you to have fun and be as comfortable as you can be. If he can do anything to ensure that, he’s going to do it.

That applies to your sober adventures as well, although he’s more reserved when he has nothing to blame for his obviously smitten actions. Cranking his neck to look at you better, Chan decides to get rid of anything to blame next time.

Maybe he has to try harder.

Just tonight, for the last time, Chan kisses you with an excuse of alcohol to fall back on in front of your dorm building when nobody is watching, paying his goodbyes to you. He kisses you almost tenderly, making your knees buckle and the lightness in your stomach cry out with full measures.

“I’ll miss you, Y/L/N.”

You don't see Chan for a while after. You spend the rest of the winter break you have after completing your exams at home, relaxing with your parents. They are right when they say that the holidays should be spent with your family– no matter how much you love the friends you made in university.

Coming back to school after the few weeks of break brought a sudden change to your and Chan’s dynamic, though. While you must admit that you’ve grown strangely closer over the months, talking more even sober and naturally gravitating towards each other when sitting in booths at McDonald’s or falling into casual conversation at the back of the group when walking to places with everyone, you find that Chan puts more effort into being friends with you now.

He texts you randomly through-out the day, asking you how you are and what you’re up to. He sends you pictures of Seungkwan when he’s sleeping in the lectures, and you even find yourself laughing at the Instagram reels he randomly shoots your way in the middle of the night sometimes. He doesn’t drink much even when all of you end up going to the nearby bar again on a Tuesday evening, and you find yourself following his pattern, knowing that even if you gave in to the alcohol, the tipsy state wouldn’t be as fun if you didn’t have anyone to share the same energy with.

Because while you do enjoy drinking, the truth is, it’s not as fun without your drinking buddy. Half the fun of drinking is having fun with the people you share the moment with, and, well, it wouldn’t feel right to drink with the others being sober. You owe your friends that much.

Lee Chan puts effort into being friends with you more, and you don’t know if you like it.

Because even though before, you weren’t as close as you might be now, the adrenaline of what could be and what even is between the two of you any time you’re under the influence was exciting you, keeping you on your toes, making you feel desired and liked. Now, he’s relaxed– no more than an arm around your shoulder when his hand gets tired in the booth of the bar. The casualty of it all gets you worried.

So when the time comes and the two of you finally hang out one on one today, getting boba and then finding comfort in the April sunlight provided by the park across from your dorms, you find yourself questioning the nature of this hangout. And you think you’re not wrong for that, of course– everyone with working two eyes must admit that Lee Chan has been sending you mixed signals so far.

Hearing the question “Can I kiss you?” from his mouth, his cheeks dusted pink and eyes big in anticipation, was even more surprising to your ears, and you might understand it better now– the history you have with the boy suggests that there’s no need in asking, but also, the intentions are more than unclear at the moment. He’s not drunk– not even tipsy– why is this happening, then?

“I mean, we don’t have to, of course, I– I just–” he stutters, eyes aimlessly breaking eye contact with yours to stare anywhere but at your lips right now, nerves clearly written all over his face and in the stance he’s taking, a few steps below you on the stairway to the dormitory. Snickering at his hesitance, you sigh to yourself.

“This is the first time you asked,” you mumble a little jokingly, and when the boy’s eyes finally meet yours again, he seems a little embarrassed from the way his ears are burning red and he chews on the inside of his cheek.

The tone of his voice is kind of defeated, a little shy, even, when he speaks up again. “Well, yeah,” he shrugs, “so I finally wanted to do it right. And sober, no matter how fucking wrong and weird that sounds.”

Breaking into a soft laughter at his comment– because truthfully, to a stranger’s ear, that might sound a little alarming– you roll your eyes at the boy and lean down to be at his level, palms of your hands meeting with his cheeks as he watches you with curious eyes, the sparkle in them filling you to the brim with endearance. Your lips meet with his in a gentle, soft, yet yearning-filled kiss, having your eyes fluttering close and the pads of your thumbs softly stroking over the skin of his cheekbones.

The kiss is no different to the ones you’ve shared before– well, except there’s no loud music in the background, no smell of trash cans behind the bar or the smoke of an earlier-smoked cigarette in the air, and most importantly, no taste of alcohol on either of your lips– but still, it feels a little different. Sure, it has your knees week and your stomach feeling fuzzy, it does make you feel like you’re drunker than you were, which now, sober, you realize it just the effect Lee Chan has on you alone, but there’s a little more care, thought and intention to the kiss now, and it hits you with full force when you pull away from him and feel his hands glazing the skin of your waist in a hesitant hug.

“So that means this was a date then, right?” you ask.

“Well, you didn’t really seem to care about that all the times we've kissed before–” he jokes, earning himself a swat to his shoulder.

Now he’s bold.

“Okay, sure, if it helps you sleep at night. I’ll even take you out on another one, if you want.”

Turns out that alcohol was the variable in your relationship that only brought you two courage– the desire to kiss his lips off has always been there, you just never acted on it sober. And while you’re not so sure you’re gonna tell the story of how you two met in detail to your kids one day, you’re glad for the kick the rum and coke gave you on the day of your orientation, because who knows. Maybe you wouldn’t be here without the weird coincidence.

#seventeen #dino #lee chan #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #dino fic #dino fluff #dino x reader #lee chan fic #lee chan fluff #lee chan x reader #seventeen reactions #svt fluff #svt x reader #dino scenario #dino drabble #lee chan scenario #lee chan drabble

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huhniebowl · 10 months

Note

hi!!!! could you possibly do something where the reader and dom are on a podcast together?? i think that would be super fun☺️☺️

anon, this is probably the funniest request i've ever worked on oh my god.😭 i had so much fun writing this! thank you for sending it in!

this is heavily inspired by the drake podcast with bobbi. i also read a few of dom's interviews, so a good bit of the dialogue is based on some things he's actually said.

this is dialogue heavy just so you all know! hope you love it!

You move the mic stand that your crew set up, so it’s level with your face, and adjust yourself under the blankets of your guest star's bed.

“Okay, tell me when,” Dominic says. He’s holding the clapperboard, and watching your crew for his signal.

“Marking.” He says into the mic, then snaps the take. He grins, while one of the crew members come to take the clapperboard. “Ah, bet you didn’t think I knew about that huh?”

It’s episode seven of your podcast, and you somehow managed to get Dominic Fike as your guest. You’ve been a fan of his for years, and have followed him through his ups and downs of fame, fortune, and misfortune.

You’re a little shocked at how well you’re keeping your composure by being able to have your favorite artist featured on your show, but you're thankful for it.

“Hello everyone, welcome to episode seven of I’m Not in Your Bed, and today I’m here with.”

You look over at Dominic, and he leans into his mic.

“Dominic Fike. How are you guys today.”

“Are you talking to me or the viewers?”

“The viewers.”

“This isn’t live though, so you won’t get to know their responses.” You turn on your side so you're facing Dom, and move your mic in front of you.

“Well yeah, but, isn’t that like proper podcast etiquette or some shit.” He starts to trail off towards the end and he looks at the staff. You hear a few of them chuckle, and you almost do too, but you can’t break character.

“Who taught you that?”

“Well, I just sort of.” He pauses for a moment, “Fuck you.” There’s no bite to it, and the staff laughs out.

"You think Drake is watching this?" He asks, fixing the glasses on his face.

"Maybe, he was my episode four."

"Were you in his bed too?"

"Yeah, I was."

"Fuckin’ cheater dude." That earns him a few laughs behind the camera.

“How does it feel having a stranger in your bed?” You ask. Dominic tilts his head in thought.

“Well, it’s not too weird. I used to have random women in here all the time.”

He then grabs hold of the mic and stares dead into the camera. “Not anymore though. Completely abstinent. Not fucking. Stop having sex. I’m talking to you. The one watching me say this while probably planning on having sex later.” You stare at him and press your lips together, letting the silence after his proclamation linger in the air.

“And how’s that been going for you?”

“You know, it’s been well. I’ve stopped a lot of crazy shit recently. Stopped smoking, stopped drugs. Stopped drinking more than 4 cups of coffee a day.”

“How do you like your coffee.”

“Black. I hate that creamer shit.”

“You know it’s reported that some of the most known serial killers drank their coffee black and were Capricorns?” Dom’s eyebrows raise.

“Oh fuck, really?”

“No, I made it up. But you feel a little crazy now don’t you?” Dominic drops his head and starts laughing, the staff right along with him.

“What’s your sign?” He asks once he gathers himself.

“Cancer.”

“Ah, that makes sense. You probably have a mommy kink or some shit huh?” You look at him in disbelief and suck your teeth when your staff betrays you with giggles.

“I do not–”

“Momm–.”

“Dominic.” You warn, glaring at him. He bursts out laughing, and you can’t help the scoff you let out.

“You know, they do say that Capricorns and Cancers are the mom and dad of the zodiac.” You try to reason.

“You’re the mom right?” He asks. You squint your eyes at him and dig around the space between you two. He’s simpering at you, trying to prove his mommy kink bit.

“I lied, I'm a Leo.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I know.” You pull out a little knitted beanie baby from the blankets. It wears the hat Dominic had on during Coachella. “A fan made this for you right?”

“Yes, she did! Isn’t it sick?”

“It is. How does it feel having some of the most creative fans there is out there?”

Dominic looks between you, and the plush, then reaches his hand out for it. “You know, it's almost surreal. This fame shit kinda came out of nowhere for me, so there was a huge adjustment period I went through when it came to people supporting me and giving me things they put so much time into.”

You nod, letting him continue.

“I think I’m still adjusting to it really, but nothing brings me more joy than like seeing this stuff you know? I love my fans, and I’d be nothing without them.”

“It seems they love you back just as much, if not more.” Dom grins and nods, “Yeah, I’d say so. They’re so fucking creative.”

“Have you read your fanfics?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Because I have one right here we can—” You stop mid-sentence and pull out your phone.

“Are you serious?” He looks at the camera as if he was Jim from The Office when you ignore him, and begin typing with urgency.

“This is the most excited I’ve seen you since this started.”

You ignore his comment and hand him your phone with a fic pulled up.

“Read this.”

“Yo, do you read these yourself? You found this way too fast.”

“I found this one last night. Now read.”

It’s a Tumblr story you saved for this very moment, and you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.

“Smut? What’s smut?” He looks at you for an answer, but you just gesture your hands toward the phone for him to keep reading.

It’s silent for a few, and you signal your cameraman to zoom in on Dominic’s face.

You watch as his face morphs into confusion, then surprise, then what you assume is mild interest, before he’s pulling the phone back and his eyes are blown wide.

“Holy fucking shit y’all write porn about me?” The crew erupts into laughter, and you tuck your lips in to avoid laughing too.

“Smut.” You say.

Dominic glances from you, back to the phone.

“Why am I kinda turned on by this.”

“Because I wrote it.”

Dominic whips his head towards you, and his mouth drops.

“Wait really?” You don’t respond, reaching down to the floor and pulling up a box of Reese’s Puffs cereal.

“Reese’s?” You ask, dropping a handful into your mouth and holding the box out to him.

“Where did you—” Dominic keeps the same shocked expression and turns back towards the camera. The cameraman starts to laugh again and zooms in on his face.

“When did you—” He stops, watching you chew with mild interest to his confusion. So he presses his lips together, clicks your phone off, and folds his hands together over his lap.

“Yeah, let me get some.” You wordlessly lean over and Dominic tilts his head back so you can shake some cereal from the box into his mouth.

“Good?” You ask while chewing.

“Yeah.” He nods. Silence ensues while you both continue to chew while staring at each other. Then at the same time, you turn to the camera with monotone expressions. It’s unplanned, and the crew let out chuckles once again.

“So how was touring?” You swallow, and reach down towards the floor again, pulling up two bowls with spoons in them. Dom’s learned not to question you anymore at this point, and just accepts a bowl.

“It was fucking fun dude. I wasn’t expecting everyone to know the words of my album for the first few dates since I toured a solid week after the release.”

“Resse’s, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, or Lucky Charms?”

“Cinnamon Toast Crunch.”

You pull up that box, and pour some into his bowl, then yours. “It must have felt incredible to hear them yelling it back to you. Did it?”

“Oh man, I don’t think that’s something I’ll ever get used to. A lot of my songs are me just fucking around and making stuff that people can dance to you know?” You nod, and bring up a jug of milk, filling up your bowl, then Dom’s.

“So when I’m performing, it kinda feels like me and my fans are just kicking shit up. I’m dancing, they're dancing, it feels good. It’s fun. Whatever’s bothering them can just be forgotten for a bit.” He takes a spoonful of cereal to his lips and hums around his spoon.

“I was at one of your shows, the LA one. And what I noticed was that your energy on stage is unbelievable.” You press your cereal down into the milk with your spoon, before continuing.

“Like, you look so youthful, and just in your element up there. You bring such an intense and loving energy to every show and I strangely found myself missing you when it was all over and I’d never even formally met you until now.”

It’s silent for a moment, Dominic soaking up your words while you begin eating.

“Was that your way of confessing? Are we like gonna kiss now?”

You roll your eyes and your crew giggles.

“No, but seriously, thank you. That means the world, especially when like I said before I’m still adjusting to this shit.”

“Well for what it’s worth, I think you’re navigating through all this perfectly. It’s why I became a fan in the first place. Your talent is unique to you and only you. And I mean it when I say talent like that only comes once in a lifetime.”

You point your spoon at him, “I’m sure I can speak for all of us when I say we’re beyond lucky to experience you and all your greatness in our lifetime.” You give him a big smile.

Dominic stares at you, and you can’t read his expression but you also don’t look for too long. Opting to look into your cereal bowl, because you could feel the love-sick look that was about to show on your face.

“You’re too good at this sentimental shit dude, what the fuck.” His voice sounds a bit choked up, so you try to lighten the mood.

“Don’t start crying on here or I’ll be forced to use it as my thumbnail for views.” The staff comes to your aid with laughter, and Dominic joins in.

“You wouldn’t do that.” He goes to wipe his face with his shirt but is met with silence and your face back to its deadpan. He looks between you and the staff, then the camera. He speaks a little unsure, his voice going up a pitch.

“Right?”

You fully break character and full-on laugh. Unable to keep up your act with him.

The podcast continues for a bit longer before you bring it to a close.

“Is there anything else you’d like to say before I take a nap in your bed?” The cameraman zooms in on Dominic.

“Um, thank you for having me. This was easily my favorite interview I’ve done. The cereal was great.” he laughs and holds up the bowl. “To my fans, I love you all so much, thank you for always showing out for me.”

“Please continue to love my album, and stay tuned for what’s to come.” Someone behind the camera whistles, and everyone begins clapping.

The camera zooms out and shows you staring at Dom with the expression you feared the most. You’re looking at him with a dopey smile, cheek resting against the palm of your hand.

One of the staff calls out your name, and you blink, jumping up and looking at the camera, then back at Dom who’s looking at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Oh my god, were you falling in love with me just now?”

“No, what.” You scoff, looking around like he’s crazy.

“Holy shit, you were totally falling in love with me!” He laughs while moving up and pointing at you excitedly. The staff once again, betray you and join Dom. You mutter curses and pull back the blankets, stumbling off the bed and speed-walking away. The camera follows you, as you go behind the staff and all the equipment.

“Wait, I’m sorry!” Dominic’s still laughing, hopping up and following after you.

“Let me take you out to dinner, I’m sorry!” He calls, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and slinging himself over you, while you cover your face and groan.

The camera follows you both all the way out until you turned the corner. Laughs still loud and boisterous on the set.

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 9 months

Text

Denji Hayakawa - "Half Your Melon Bread"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which a certain chainsaw devil man shares a sweet treat with a stranger at the park after shirking his devil hunting duties for the day. Or; In which you give Denji half of your melon bread out of sympathy poor hungry devil hunter boy. Part 2

🍞•♡•🥐•♡•🥖•♡•🫓•♡•🥨•♡•🥯•♡•🥞•♡•🧇

"Maaan, today was a long one"

Denji groaned out; stretching as he walked along the vacant street.

He had snuck off from Aki and Power not too long ago; ditching his assignment in favor of following a stray dog he'd spotted on the way. Unfortunately, he had lost sight of the dog soon after and now he was lost, wandering about the empty streets.

Just up ahead he spotted a park. It was one of those parks with a half playground; just a singular slide and a standard two-person swing set. There were also quite a few benches that littered the outer border and faced inward toward the playground.

But something caught Denji's eye or rather someone did. On a bench sat a lone person, a human, at least from what he could see at the distance he was standing from them.

Their back was turned to him, but he could see right off the bat that they had some kind of food given the way their arms and mouth were moving. From the ever-shrinking distance he found himself at, Denji believed it was a burger or something; he'd heard those were pretty damn good.

A nice, pillowy, sesame seed bun, melty cheese, crunchy pickles and onions, a thick juicy patty, and every condiment he could get his hands on... man, that sounds amazing right about now.

G U R G L E

Shit, now he was hungry.

Unfortunately due to ditching the blood-loving psycho and cock blocking top knot that were his partners, he had no money to buy food.

But the person on the bench had come to a stop next to his food... would they share with him? Or at least give him some money to buy his own? Probably not, but it's worth a try. So, the chainsaw devilman took a seat next to the stranger and simply glanced at their food from time to time, looking away every time they looked at him.

"Here."

The stranger softly spoke, catching the dirty blonde's attention.

In their hand was half of the packaged snack that they were previously holding; it looked like a bun but it was shiny with a criss-cross pattern on the top. Denji froze, not knowing how to respond; he didn't think he would get this far. Hell, he didn't even know what they were giving him.

"It's melon bread. I didn't poison it or anything; you saw it in the package already."

The stranger speaks again, this time standing up and holding the snack out the the devilman.

Hesitantly, Denji took it from their outstretched hand. He looked it over and lifted it to his nose, taking in it's fruity scent. Then he took a bite; and his mind was blown.

"I hope you enjoy it, you looked hungry. Well, see ya."

The stranger smiled at him gently, letting out a soft chuckle, before turning and walking away.

The dirty blonde-haired boy jumped a bit as he watched them walk away. Was it weird that he wanted them to stay here a bit longer? Should he tell them his name?

But, unfortunately for Denji, when he had finally made up his mind, the stranger was gone.

🍞•♡•🥐•♡•🥖•♡•🫓•♡•🥨•♡•🥯•♡•🥞•♡•🧇

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

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dr-felitas · 1 month

Text

cellphone love story — osamu dazai

*+ﾟsynopsis: recently, someone's been spam calling you to the point that you’re fed and pick up the phone, only to be greeted with someone by the name dazai who has been continuously trying to reach his dead friend. the calls however don't end here, rather, your (call) history with dazai starts to extend - slowly but surely forming a bond over time; the phone.

pairing: dazai x reader (gn) |wordcount: 2.5k (this was my personal hell) | content & warnings: fluff, mentions of odasaku and very very very small mention of chuuya, more than friends less than lovers at the end (can also be interpreted as lovers, but that's just what i had in mind yall), brief mentions of drinking, light angst if you squint, not proofread its 5 am yall…. ; oneshot

a/n: sorry that i havent posted anything in the past few days (eight days to be exact i think..) i hope this will somehow make it up :,)

you can't keep count anymore.

this is the third - no, maybe fourth time today the unknown number has called you. at some point they have to realize that they’ve gotten the wrong number, right?

it all started about one and a half weeks ago when you changed your phone number and received a new one. ever since that day someone has been continuously trying to call you. unfamiliar digits lit up on your screen as you were out with your friend, you ignored them, after all who were you to accept a call from an unknown number?

but, over the course of the evening the calls didn't stop, eerie and annoying ringtone constantly piercing through your ears until the calls took a halt at midnight. relief washing over you.

to your mishap the calls didn't stop there. sometimes they’d wake you up from a peaceful slumber, groggily pinching and rubbing your eyes before swiping the call away. other times your phone would ring at a work meeting where you had to awkwardly excuse yourself and turn off your phone.

admittedly, you're at fault for not blocking the number. all of your friends suggested that you should, reasoning it with the fact that the caller probably has some dirty schemes and motives and that you should just try and not get in touch with weird people like them.

which brings you to your current predicament, sitting on the couch with your favorite show playing in the background as you text a friend, until a certain but familiar series of digits show up on your phone screen. do they never know when to stop?

your fingers hover over the decline button and then over to the accept button, debating and contemplating if you should decline the call but you don’t. the pads of your fingers press down on the accept button and you wait.

you’re greeted with silence, what the hell? your patience runs thin, streaming like arid sand grains through an hourglass until they meet the bottom and gather there together with the others. it's been like thirty seconds into the call now, at this point they should've probably said something, at least a quiet hello. an exasperated sigh leaves your mouth and you begin “seriously? you’ve been calling me for the past week now and suddenly i pick up your calls you don’t say shit?” you complain.

“goodbye odasaku.” a sigh leaves the strangers mouth, a man you notice. “i suppose this is my sign to stop grieving and mourning over you.” his voice slightly quivers and the male chuckles sorrowfully. you can’t distinguish if it’s melancholy or relief that lace the bitter words.

you’re left with confusion, so many unanswered questions lie at the tip of your tongue but you don’t dare to utter a word. “apologies.” he speaks up once again, this time with a steadier voice. “you’re probably confused, my name is osamu dazai.” he politely introduces himself. even though you’re unable to see him and can’t see him nor his expression, your intuition tells you that he’s slightly grinning, that a ghost of a smile graces his lips, although a rather sad one.

“this phone number belonged to an old friend of mine.” dazai respires. a shaky “odasaku?” you whisper and let out a breath you yourself didn’t know you held in. “yeah, sakunosuke oda.” he hummed smilingly. “he’s gone.” dead, dazai wants to add but he refrains.

“his voicemail always played when i dialed his number and called.” he whispered. “it was pleasant to hear his voice, knowing that there are still fragments of odasaku out there. he understood me like no other, i miss him.” dazai meekly confessed in a hushed tone. “but those days are over, i suppose it’s for the better.” the male on the other line sighed.

an umpteen amount of words prickle on your tongue, they itch to be released and said, you wanted to say something - anything. but before you’re able to properly gather your words and form a sentence, dazai cuts you off.

“please excuse my intrusions in the past week. have a good rest.” a shrilling sound echoing through your living room symbolizes the end of the call and you’re left dumbfounded.

strident noises awake you from your sleep. you toss and turn in your sheets as you mindlessly try to find your phone, rolling over to lay on your side as you find it and tightly clutching it, gripping your phone as you’re greeted with a bright screen and a row of digits. dazais number, you realize.

no, you didn't save his number nor did you memorize in which order the digits were aligned but his phone number's unfamiliar digits have become quite familiar now. you check the time: 0.52 a.m. what was dazai doing at such time and why was he calling you out of all people? especially after he hung up on you a month ago.

“hello?” you groggily yawn. “ah.” a female voice on the other line yelps, she sounds relieved. “are you odasaku by any chance? could you pick up mr. dazai please?” the woman asks in a demure manner. “what’s the situation?” you rub your eyes, trying to stay awake. “well, mr. dazai is intoxicated - he’s drunk and is currently slumped over the counter.” she whispers into the phone.

“if that doesn’t bother you of course, i can also call someone else!” she hurriedly says. you're slipping out of your sheets to get out of your bed and move towards your hallway, loosely throwing over a thin jacket and checking its pocket if your car keys are in there. “it’s fine, can you tell me the location?” you tiredly ask. “yes of course. it’s bar lupin.” she replies. you check your phone and step outside your door moving towards your car “got it, i’ll be there in 20 minutes or so.” with that you end the call, get inside your car and put your hands on the steering wheel.

carefully you take a step inside the narrow bar, taking off your hood and immediately spotting dazai whose head was currently laying on the surface of the front bar. he was poking at his glass of whiskey, the ball of ice being almost fully melted. “dazai.” you call out. he turns around, hazel eyes meeting yours.

only then can you admire dazai for the first time. his dark brown is tousled and unkempt but it continues to gleam in the orange light. his arms are wrapped in bandages and there's a long beige, almost khaki, coat draped over his body. you can’t help but think that he’s kind of pretty.

“what are you doing here?” dazai asks in a fatigued tone. you show him your car keys and wag them in the air “here to pick you up.” you reply nonchalantly. “why?” his question is barely above a whisper.

why are you helping him? he doesn’t understand - he wishes to understand. the first impression you’ve received from dazai was when he was calling you non stop and now your second impression is him slumped over bar lupins front bar. dazai can’t tell if you’re just naive or really trying to be helpful out of politeness or rather out of kindness.

a certain kindness he’s only ever received from odasaku. helping someone like him out of kindness with no hidden intentions, offering a helping hand, smiling with utmost fondness.

“as if im leaving a somewhat nice drunkard alone. i’m not inhumane.” even though your answers are full of nonchalance, dazai can make out a certain sincerity that lies in your words.

his eyes can only follow as you tilt your head towards the door. “let's get you back home.” you gently smile.

dazai wakes up to the sound of birds chirping and sizzling oil. he’s warm, a soft blanket covering his body only then dazai realizes that this isn’t his bed, that he’s not lying in his futon. he looks around before his gaze lands on the bedside table which had a glass of water atop it, marked with a little sticky note that said “drink this, you’ll feel much better and come find me in the kitchen :)”

he can’t recall everything that happened yesterday, it all went past him like a blur the only thing he remembered was that you came to pick him up. dazai grabbed the glass and gulped it down in one go, some of its content seeping down his chin and wiping it away with his sleeve before sliding out of the bed with the glass in his hand to return it to you.

finding your kitchen wasn’t hard, it was located right next to the dining room where a variety of dishes were placed on the dining table. dazai enters the kitchen, without you noticing and sees you whisking up two eggs with a pair of chopsticks before speaking up “here.” dazai coughs and places the glass on the counter near the sink to express his gratitude.

“oh, it’s no problem.” you shoot him a small smile. your hand reaches over to the salt and pepper to season the eggs with before carefully putting the egg mixture into the hot greased pan. admittedly dazai feels a bit out of place - useless (when was he ever not) so he offers to wash your dishes which you happily agreed to.

besides the sound of sizzling fat and water running down the faucet, it's quiet in your kitchen. “how’d she know whom to call?” you’re the first to speak up, eyes still concentrated on frying the eggs as you hum a small melody.

“the bartendress?” dazai asks in response.

“yeah.”

“well, odasaku’s number, which is your number now, is one of my emergency contacts, i suppose she just called you first.” dazai shrugs his shoulders, his hands still focused on rubbing away the dirty spots on your plates.

“i see.”

“if the old man, my favourite bartender by the way." dazai winks. "if he would’ve been here he would’ve called slug.” dazai lets out a small laugh, probably the most sincere laugh he let out in the past few weeks.

“slug” you ask, soft voice laced with confusion.

“an old friend of mine.” dazai smiles sadly. “odasaku and him are both my emergency contacts.” he chuckles.

dazai doesn’t talk about the topic much further and neither do you, assuming it’s a sensitive topic for him. “i’m done, how about you?” you look over to dazai who’s currently washing his hands off with lavender soap. “mhm, me too.” he hums in agreement at which you can smile at.

dazais eyes trail after you as you leave the kitchen and move to the dining room, setting down all the plates and pouring two glasses of water. “sit down and eat up.” your eyes sway from his eyes over to the chairs. only then does dazai notice that his beige coat is neatly folded on one of your dining chairs. it makes his heart jump lightly.

he sits down and takes a sip out of his glass, waiting until you start to eat first before he gets to. he smiles contently as you happily chew on your food. “does it taste good?” he cringes at himself when he realizes just how awkward that question is, he feels like a teenager again that was always wary of what people thought of him.

“it tastes amazing! wanna try?” you slide the plate over to dazai, offering him to take a piece. “sure.” he agrees before taking a small bite. you weren’t lying when you said that it tasted amazing. “you're right, it tastes so good.” dazai says ecstatically. “told you so! my cooking is not to be underestimated.” you laugh and dazai can’t help but laugh too which makes him cough uncontrollably, putting a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t spit out anything on your table cloth but continuing to laugh.

“oh god dazai, are you okay?” you rush over to his aid and put your hand over his back to slide over it, hoping that it’ll somehow soothe his coughing. dazai manages to muffle out a “i’m fine, really.” between his coughs and laughs which you can only sigh at but can’t help the smile that finds its way onto your face and plasters itself on your lips.

calls with dazai have become more frequent now, although he sometimes still remains a mystery to you, it feels like he’s grown quite comfortable around you.

he told you more about himself (vice versa), talks about his work at the armed detective agency and sends you recipes the both of you could recreate. not only calls with him became more frequent but also visits.

at least four out of seven times a week dazai rushes to your place after work (you should probably call it your shared home now due to dazai leaving his stuff at your place like scattered objects on the floor).

for example, today: dazai walks into your kitchen like he owns the place. he sets down his belongings onto your couch before stepping towards the kitchen where he already finds you chopping the vegetables for the curry.

he notices that you’re on the verge of tearing up as you continuously chop the onions into small bits and grabs a tissue before sneaking up behind you and scaring you. “boo.” his mouth forms a little “o” and you slightly jump before setting the knife down and putting your hand over your heart. “you scared me!” you complain even though dazai can see the playful glint in your eyes.

“sorry, sorry.” he laughs before wiping away the small droplets of tears that managed to escape your eyes.

his calloused hands brush over your soft skin, it’s intimate - romantic even. you softly sigh against the tissue, the object that separates the two of you. the action makes your face lightly heat up and you’re sure that dazai noticed it too from the way he’s smirking.

“aw, was i able to fluster you?” he coos at you smilingly, which in response you can only huff at, eyeing him with a look that says “you already know the answer.” before turning around to continue where you left off.

in the meantime dazai pulls out another cutting board and starts to chop the carrots. it’s quiet, it’s always quiet when the two of you cook together, but neither you nor dazai mind. the smell of aromatics that nip and continue to linger in the air and the sound of your jazz playlist which sometimes gets outplayed by the sounds of cutting or frying food, are more than enough. it’s just like the first time the two of you shared this space together, a certain nostalgia suddenly washing over him.

“thank you” he whispers, barely loud enough to not get overplayed by the music playing in the background.

“for what?” you ask, longing for an answer.

for the times you’ve picked me up at bar lupin, for the times you’ve cooked me warm meals, for the times when you took care of me.

“for everything.”

this is dedicated to my odasaku person @azullumi (don't die pls i need u and ur fics HHDDISISISIS). you've always told me that you liked odasaku a lot and that some day you also want to open up an orphanage which i find really endearing. what i mean by "you're my odasaku person" is not "wow we're literally so odasaku and dazai coded" but no rather it's because you also play such a major role in my life (not just cause of the age gap between oda and dazai and u and me..). you're always there when i need you, you're always there when i needed you and i hope that you'll always be there when i need you. but the same thing goes vice versa; goes for me. azul you're someone whom i've randomly met and if i never made that one comment or sent that one ask or if you never sent that one dm i would've never written this. you're someone who reassures me and soothes my worries with simple words, when i'm feeling down you're the person i turn to because you're the only person who really understands and somehow relates and thus i'm always able to trust and follow your judgement and advice. i never feel judged or belittled by you or treated as someone whose only an immature kid, no you treat me as a normal person, like a friend. which makes me feel seen - acknowledged even. to be loved is to be seen. i could go hours when it comes about talking to you and what impact you have on my life, but i suppose that's for another end note dsjsdsuusus. you're so dear to me. i love you a lot azul <3

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff #bsd fluff #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs imagines #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai fluff #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #felis-files

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 month

Text

the albatross - m. murdock

a/n: hi everyone! so this is that weird and off putting reader i was mentioning earlier! she's not that weird but she's sort of odd so yeah. also i know bucky is the winter soldier but idk how else to tag this so oh well! i do have lore and stuff for readers time as a soldier so i'll include that in later installments! i was kind of in a writers block and this pushed me out of that. so enjoy! please please tell me what you thought and if you want more! warnings: cursing, mentions of death, war, torture, pain, people being dead, reader having horrible people skills and ptsd, mentions of sex maybe? uhmmm in general reader is just sort of strange and this is her and matt's early relationship, so sorry if i missed anything ! word count: 3.6k summary: you have spent the past ninety (give or take) years tortured and in pain. then, a handsome stranger comes into your life and changes everything. pairing: matt murdock x winter soldier!fem!reader now playing: the albatross - taylor swift "i'm the albatross/i swept in at the rescue/the devil that you know/looks now more like an angel/i'm the life you chose/and all this terrible danger"

You’re working a morning shift at the bakery when he comes in. The pastries in the case are laid out just so, and you have been meticulously working on this sign for your fall specials. You are determined to focus on something that is not how poorly you slept, your hair tied up in a braid behind you as you work.

You’re determined to get these pumpkin stems drawn correctly; a green marker clenched in your hand. Your knuckles are white with the tension you are holding in your fingers. It’s around eight in the god damn morning, and you have been awake since around three a.m.

You don’t even hear the bell ring, nor do you hear the click-clacking of a cane on the tiled floors, you only hear an awkward clearing of the throat, to which you spin around, about to throw the marker at the customer, but stopping when you realize what you’re doing.

The customer smiles awkwardly at you, and you recognize instantly that between his glasses and cane, he is most definitely blind. You almost feel silly, until you remember everything, and you wish that there was more moments where you think you’re silly for being paranoid.

And there’s something else, too. You look at this man for a few moments, before realizing that he is so god damn hot. Which, is weird, because you have not felt anything for any man or woman in years, too busy focusing on other things, too busy thinking about everything that’s happened. But god, the stubble tracing his face, the way his dark hair falls, and the way his hand wraps around his cane..

But what gets you really is his lips. Maybe you’re staring, maybe you don’t care. But his lips are this pretty pink, and you find yourself getting lost in the nicest daydream you’ve had in a very long time..

And then, you snap out of that fantasy to remind yourself that you are working and don’t even know his name.

“Hi, sorry,” You cough awkwardly, “Was just focused,” You tell him, approaching the counter. You wipe your sweaty hands on your apron, before putting on your best ‘I’m a friendly bakery worker who just wants to sell you pastries, also tip me please!’ smile on. “What can I get you?” You ask.

“Do you guys have apple turnovers?” It is the first time this fall that is under 65 degrees, so you understand that there is some cravings for autumn snacks.

“Yeah, yeah,” You move towards the case to get some, “Just the one?”

“Three, actually. For the office.” He hums.

“Some big office,” Your voice is a sarcastic mumble, not really for the an to hear but he chuckles at it, and you almost think it’s weird that he an hear you but your brain tells you not to judge, since there is a whole lot the handsome stranger could judge you for.

“We’re a small business. Very friendly, very personable.”

You cannot help yourself, and you find yourself asking, “What sort of business are you in?” What the handsome stranger does not know is that you are insatiably angry at yourself for asking that because you had pretty much promised yourself that you were never going to have any sort of relationship—it wouldn’t be fair to them, it wouldn’t be fair to you. And as previously established, that wasn’t a problem, because you weren’t really attracted to anyone before this handsome stranger waltzed on into the bakery.

“I’m a lawyer.” He smiles. A lawyer.

“Well, Mr. Lawyer, your total is 10.75.” He pulls out a twenty and when you hand him change, he asks, “Which one is the five?” and you wordlessly pull out the five from the stack you handed him, before he puts the rest of the change in his wallet, dropping a five and a small card into your tip jar. “You have a good day now.” He hums, before making his way out of the bakery.

You watch intently, maybe a little too intently, and you hear the voice of your best friend from your teenage years in your head saying, ‘You hate to see him go, but you love to watch him leave.’ And a small smile finds its way to your face.

Then, you notice the card he dropped in the jar before fishing it out. On the front, it reads,

‘Matthew M. Murdock, Attorney at Law.’ On the back, you read,

‘Nelson, Murdock & Page, Attorneys at Law,

Hell’s Kitchen’

Accompanied by this is a phone number and an address.

You pocket the card, and before you know it, costumers are flooding in, and you ease into the day, forgetting about the handsome stranger until you leave the bakery at around six o’clock that night. You finish cleaning up from the day before letting the woman who works to prep for the next day. Then you leave, heading home to the too quiet, too small apartment.

You don’t have much in your apartment. You sleep with a gun under your pillow and you have a cheap TV on your dresser. You spend most of your time catching up on books or movies. You make yourself box mac and cheese before eating it right out of the pot, sitting on your kitchen floor.

As you cook the mac and cheese, you say his name over and over again, letting it sit on your tongue and escape your lips, thinking about him intently. You glance at your watch and decide that maybe it’s early enough that he might still be at his office.

You fish your tiny flip phone out of your pocket, dialing the number on the card and waiting. You’re holding your breath as the phone rings. A thought runs through your brain that maybe he gave you a wrong number and then your brain immediately reminds you that no man is ever going to give you his card, printed out, just to fuck with you.

“Nelson, Murdock & Page, how can I help you?” A voice asks, and you blink, hesitating for a minute.

“Uh, I’m looking for Matthew.” You say, and there’s some light shuffling, and again, this regret shoots over you until you hear a very smooth, very familiar voice,

“Hey,” His voice is like honey and you long to hear it clearer—The first time you’ve desired a better phone. “I was hoping you’d call.”

“Yeah, well, Maybe I just like the sound of your voice.”

“You know usually, that’s my line.”

“Wait, that works on people?” You hear his laugh on the other side of the phone and a shiver runs down your spine as you itch to make him laugh more.

“Telling people they’re beautiful doesn’t hit the same when you’re blind.”

“I guess not..” There’s a silence on his end of the phone, before he says,

“I never got your name.” For a moment, you consider giving him a fake name, but you find yourself giving him your name, the one that your parents gave you all those years ago. It’s foreign on your lips, a rare gem that you do not often give out. He repeats it and you swear you could almost die right then and there. “What are you doing tonight?”

You’re taken back by his forwardness, not anticipating that maybe this handsome stranger, Matthew, wants to be around you just as bad as you want to be around him. And then you look around at your dingy apartment, with your boxy TV, the gun under your pillow, and you, sitting on the floor of your kitchen, having just finished eating box mac and cheese with a wooden spoon that just for a second tastes like the one your mother used to cook with, the one you’d get tastes of sauces, soups, anything you could get your hands on.

And then you remember everything that happened after those days sneaking tastes of your mom’s cooking and you feel guilty for pursuing handsome Matthew, because he has no idea what he is getting into.

“Just finished dinner. Was planning on just relaxing.” Reading until around midnight and then getting an hour or two of sleep.

“Well, how about we go do something?” You detect a bit of hopefulness in his voice. You find yourself asking before you can stop yourself,

“Like, like a date?” And he laughs again.

“Yes, like a date.”

“I don’t know,” You start, “Usually I have to ask my father’s permission before I go out on the town with a boy.” You want to slap your hand over your mouth because you sound your age. Oh god.

“Really?”

“..No.” You hope he finds your weird, totally not a cover up, joke funny. And he laughs again, telling you,

“You’re funny.”

Yeah, really fucking hilarious.

“So, a date?”

“A date.” You consider this for a moment. A date might lead somewhere real. Somewhere dangerous. Somewhere you haven’t been in.. years. Years might be an understatement. Your heart thuds against your chest, and you find yourself full of that nostalgic thing you call desire.

“What would we do?”

“Anything you want.” He tells you.

“Anything? That’s dangerous.” Because this whole thing is dangerous, you want to tell him, maybe you should mention the whole age thing, the whole assassin thing, the whole brainwashing thing, the whole thing.

“Yeah? What dangerous things do you have in mind, doll?” You have to hold the phone away from your ear to breathe, because it feels like someone just took the winds out of your sails. Suddenly it is 1940 something and a boy is flirting with you, and you have to act like a lady in hopes that he will treat you right.

Odd thing to think about today, but you’re an odd person.

“What about ice cream and a bookstore?” You ask, and for a moment you want to hit yourself for not suggesting something cool like a club or something and then you realize that you have no idea what counts as a cool date in this day and age.

Did you know when you were a teenager and had the world at your fingertips, eighty (give or take) years ago?

But to your surprise, handsome Matthew just responds,

“That sounds nice. Do you want me to pick you up at your apartment?”

The idea of handsome Matthew being at your tiny apartment that is not suitable for a date makes your heart race.

“I’ll meet you at the ice cream place in an hour. You know the one near the bakery?”

“Yeah. See you then.”

“Yeah. See you.” And when you hang up, you realize just what has happened. For the first time since 1944, You have landed yourself a date with a handsome man that is genuinely interested in you and in your infinite wisdom decided that ice cream and books were the best way to impress him.. Books.. Blind man.

You lightly bang your head against the counter behind you, muttering to yourself how stupid that was. But you an only dwell on it for a moment before you are standing up and making your way over to your room to get ready.

You’re still in your work uniform. And you look like an idiot. So, you clean yourself up and pull on something presentable, something comfortable. There is no confusion as to the nature of this meet up, you two are going on a date and you asked a blind man to go to a bookstore. You feel like an asshole. And you’re aware that you’re putting emphasis on that, but still!

You go through outfits and outfits, trying to figure out what an appropriate outfit is for this first date. You end up in something casual, and you hope you’re not underdressed. Honestly, you know you’re making a fuss over something as standard as a date, but you are genuinely desperate to have this go well.

You finally decide on an outfit and make your way out the door, grabbing your jacket and stepping out of the apartment. You stop outside of your door before turning around and going back into your room to change your top.

But eventually, you do get to the ice cream place Matt and you had discussed on the phone. And there he is, in all his glory, wearing the same outfit he wore when you saw him in the bakery that morning, only, without his tie, and he looks more disheveled. Somehow it’s more charming to see him like this, more exhilarating to imagine a life with such a low stakes man (You’ll look back on this thought later and laugh)

“Hi,” You greet, and Matt smiles in your direction.

“Hi.” He hums, and again, you feel nervous! So, before he can say much else, you blurt out,

“So, This is my first date in a while.. So. Sorry about that.” You say awkwardly.

“A while?” He asks, tilting his head like a curious dog. You’re struck by the fact that he is around 70 years younger than you. “Like, a few months?”

A beat.

Handsome Matthew is much busier than you are, it seems.

“More like a couple of years.” And by ‘a couple’ you mean eighty some odd years, but Matt doesn’t need to know all of that right now. But he just hums and nods, before answering,

“That’s alright, I’ll be gentle.” Your face flushes, and with a nervous laugh, you ask,

“You mean we’ll take it slow?”

“Sure. Whatever. We’ll figure out the details of it all later.” His hand finds yours, and before you can protest he pulls you into the ice cream shop. Handsome Matthew orders chocolate chip cookie dough because he is perfect in every way, and you order..

“Butter pecan, please.” You get odd glances from Matthew and the seventeen year old minimum wage worker behind the counter, but neither of them say anything. You manage to beat Matthew to paying for the ice cream, and as you walk, he asks,

“Butter pecan? Really?” And you roll your eyes. Young people today, always judging.

“You’re lucky they didn’t have butterscotch, that’s my real favorite.” You respond, before taking a lick of the ice cream. Your handsome date, gives you another bizarre look.

“Okay, what’s your third favorite ice cream flavor?”

“Mm..” You take a few minutes to think about it, before deciding on your answer. “A tie between pistachio and coffee.” And at your answer, Matt laughs at you. You let out an offended gasp, although you’re not being serious, before asking, “what’s so horrible about that?”

“You have the ice cream preferences of an eighty year old,” He laughs and you laugh too, because oh, if only he knew.

“Sorry, my pallet is straight from the 40’s.” It’s a joke. That’s a joke. Not at all based in facts or actuality. You continue working through eating your ice cream and talking to your handsome date. “So, does the handsome lawyer have any family I should know about?”

“You think I’m handsome?” He grins, and your face flushes.

“Answer the question.”

“No siblings. My dad died when I was young and It’s only recently that I’ve been talking to my mother.” Interesting, you think, and then this dawning realization happens where you realize that the next thing out of his mouth will be the inevitable question, “How about your family?”

You consider lying but you decide against it. If this is going to lead anywhere good, you don’t want to base it off lies.

“Not much to say. I’m the sole survivor.” You shrug, keeping it vague. He frowns a bit before squeezing your hand.

“A couple of orphans, huh?”

You squeeze his back.

“Seems like it.”

You kind of aren’t over the death of your parents and your siblings and quite literally everyone you knew as a teenager and young adult—You’re not over so many fucking things that if you went through it all, you’d probably keep poor Handsome Matthew up all night.

But instead of talking about that, Matt finds himself walking with you to the bookstore. You hold the door open for him and begin to wander. You quickly move past the books on World War II, as if faced with an ex you want nothing to do with them.

You begin to look at the romance books, scrunching your nose at how cheesy and surface level so many of these young adult novels are. But then you remind yourself that you are a hundred years old. But you look like you’re in your late twenties, early thirties. As you’re looking at the books, Matthew makes his way to the aisle next to yours, and talks to you through the stacks.

“So, what’s your favorite book?”

“That’s like asking a mother her favorite child.” You answer quickly, and you hear him laugh. Your face flushes.

“Try for me.”

“Uh, I really love Great Gatsby. I’m kind of fascinated with the zombie genre, too, it’s sort of new and interesting, and uh, oh, I read this Neil Gaiman novel, uh, Stardust? I really liked that.” You confess. Matt listens as you fumble through novels, both of you making your way towards the end of the aisle.

“And movies?”

“Why is everything about me? I didn’t hear your favorite novel.”

“The Outsiders.” He responds, and you make a mental note to try and find it in the bookstore. “So, movies?”

You’ve had autonomy for around three years now, so.. Your movie knowledge has been kind of stunted, so you wrack your brain to try and come up with something impressive.

“I really like the Indiana Jones series, uh, oh, The Matrix, and..” You ponder your brain. “Oh! And King Kong!” You saw that one in the theatres for your thirteenth birthday.

“Like, the one that came out in 2017?” He asks, and again, you consider lying, because you actually have seen that one because when you looked up ‘King Kong’ it came out, and it really blew your mind how far CGI had come.

“No, the one that came out in ’33.” As if it is the most normal thing in the entire world.

“One of your favorite movies is one from 1933?” And the old woman in you wants to insist that you loved the decades you grew up in, and that seeing King Kong in the theatres was a marvelous thing because you could barely afford rent. And then you remember you shouldn’t reveal your history with the Great Depression to a man you’re on your first date with.

“Yup.” You assert, and ask, “You?”

“Star Wars, any of them, and the Princess Bride.” Again, you make a note to add it to your list.

“Interesting.” You hum, and you find The Outsiders, wanting to read it, to consume it, to consume him, and every thought he has. The two of you meet at the end of the aisle, too close to be platonic as his hands come to find your arms, and you shudder at the affection.

“Touch starved, huh?” He grins. You flush and roll your eyes.

“You’re so mean.” You huff, and he laughs. His hand moves up your arms and cups your jaw, enjoying the feeling of your warm cheeks.

“Well, you’re odd.”

“Odd?”

“Everything about you. Your movie tastes, your jokes, your ice cream flavors.” He hums, with a soft shrug. “It’s not a bad thing, I’m just.. Trying to figure you out.”

“You’d be the first to accomplish such a feat.”

He laughs at that, and he’s so beautiful.. That you cannot help yourself when you lean up and gently press a soft kiss to those beautiful pretty pink lips that had caught your attention that morning. He kisses you back, without hesitation.

You feel at peace for the first time in years, as if everything you had gone through, every moment of torture and pain, has been worth it because it leads you to this. To Handsome Matthew, who kisses you so tenderly that no matter how simple it is, you are left breathless and desperate for more. You lean into him, deepening the kiss, pushing him back a bit, his back pressed against the stacks. The book in your hands is crumpled, and eventually, Matthew pulls away, before pushing you back a bit.

“Easy,” He says breathlessly, and you need the reminder, because you try to catch your breath. Holy shit. “Easy, easy..” he repeats, his hands rubbing up and down your arms a bit. “I’ve got you, just breath.” He laughs, and you lean your forehead against your shoulder. Fuck.

“When can I see you again?” Is your only thought, and he chuckles gently.

“Whenever you want.” He promises, and you nod, before leaning up to kiss him again.

One day you’ll tell him everything. You’ll tell him all of the horrible things you’ve done and have had done to you, and you’ll tell him why the nightmares came, and why they won’t ever go away. One day, you’ll tell handsome Matthew why you sleep with a gun under your pillow and why you have no family and why you are so odd.

For now, you decide that you deserve a few nice things.

And when he kisses back, you realize that maybe he is just as infatuated with you as you are with him. Maybe. Maybe he is full of secrets and his own horrors that plague him while he sleeps, and maybe that’s the unspoken reason you are so deeply fascinated with one another.

Maybe.

Maybe you’ve spent the past ninety years going from fight to fight, to nightmare to nightmare. Maybe you’re owed some time in the sun with Handsome Matthew.

Maybe.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fic #daredevil #matt murdock fluff #winter soldier!reader #tortured reader #super soldier reader #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil fluff #daredevil x reader #netflix daredevil #matt murdock fanfic

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stevethehairington · 2 years

Text

There's a guy that frequents the same park that Steve takes his morning jogs through. He always sits at the same bench, with the same little journal in his lap, bent over it and scribbling furiously away at its pages. Sometimes he'll have headphones on, sometimes he won't. Sometimes he'll be wearing a full on leather jacket, despite the weather. Sometimes he'll just have a t-shirt on, with cut off sleeves that show off his glorious, tattooed arms. Sometimes his long curly hair will be down by his shoulders. Sometimes it'll be tied back out of his face.

But if there's one constant, it's that he is always there.

And he is cute.

Steve wants to talk to him, but he doesn't know what to say to the stranger. Doesn't really know how he would approach him either. Just walking up feels too weird, and forget sliding into the empty space on the bench beside him. Asking about the journal feels way too personal, too. And just saying "Hi, I've seen you around" feels sort of creepy (even though Robin assures him it isn't — it's just a conversation starter).

So instead of outright acknowledging him, Steve decides to be a bit subtler about catching his attention. He surreptitiously alters the course of his jog so that he runs directly past the guy, and if he starts wearing his old shorts from high school that are a little too tight, a little too short, well. Thats for him to know and this guy to notice.

It goes on like that for a few weeks. Steve jogging his new path, right past Cute Guy, trying to sneak a peek from his peripherals as he passes to see if Cute Guy is looking back. And either Cute Guy is really good about timing his looks, or he's just not looking.

It's kind of a total bummer. A real shame. But who knows, maybe Cute Guy already has someone at home. Or maybe he's not into guys. Or maybe he's just not interested in some random, sweaty stranger at the park who stares too much.

Oh well, Steve thinks. Even if Cute Guy isn't interested, he at least gives Steve something nice to look at on his run that isn't a tree so. He'll take what he can get.

And then one day Steve jogs past, not really paying Cute Guy much attention this time.

Only then he hears, "Excuse me! Excuse me, hey, dude, you dropped something!"

Steve slows to a stop, patting at his chest and pockets as he turns back. He has no idea what he could have dropped — he doesn't bring a whole lot to lose on his jogs in the first place, but there's no way Cute Guy is talking to anyone else.

But also hello Cute Guy is talking to him. Who the fuck cares if he didn't drop anything?

So Steve jogs back towards the guy, who is on his feet now, and jesus his jeans are tight. Steve approaches slow, tries to keep his eyes up, and comes to a stop in front of him. "Oh?" He asks. "I did?"

Cute Guy nods. "Yeah," he says, and holds out a little scrap of paper. He lets a grin (a dimpled grin, be still Steve's heart) spread across his face, tilts his head a little, and goes, "You dropped my number."

Sure enough, right there on the little scrap of paper, are seven digits and a name.

Eddie.

Steve looks back up at Cute Guy— at Eddie. Then he folds the paper back up and makes a show of tucking it safely into his pocket, pulling the zipper across so it won't fall out. He pats his pocket and grins back at Eddie. "Wouldn't want to lose that," he tells him. He sways forward on the balls of his feet, lifts a hand to his mouth like he's telling a secret. "Rumor has it that's going to get me a date with a very cute boy."

Eddie's eyes sparkle and his smile brightens. "I can assure you, that is no rumor."

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #mack writes #macks ficlets

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 2 months

Note

sunlight ☀️

hii it’s me againn. could you also do tasm peter who is nerdy and nerdy reader? and it’s kind of like a meet cute at the library? that’s literally my dream 😔 (you can tell i’m in my spiderman kick again)

-🎀

love a good spiderman kick ☺️ hope you like it!

pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x reader word count: 1.4k tags: just fluff

The exam was next week, and Peter still hadn’t gotten a chance to so much as glance at the most helpful textbook. The only copy the library carried had been way over due for ages, and the damn things were way too expensive to buy. He hoped it would be back by today because the late fees would be so much worse after today’s cut off. So, into the library he strode to look for it for what felt like the millionth time.

He was sure the librarian remembered him, and which book he was after, after so many attempts, so he went straight up to the desk. Peter raised his eyebrows in question, in hope. He wrung his hands together as the librarian gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. “So?” he finally couldn’t help.

“You just missed it,” the librarian deadpanned. How could she be so damn calm? She must know his life depended on getting his hands on this book! Well, maybe not his life, but definitely his grade… important enough.

“What?! And you didn’t hold it for me or something?” “Hold it for you? What do you think this is, kid? We don’t take reservations.”

After a moment, though, she sighed in slight defeat, something akin to pity entering her hardened features. She gave a sideways nod toward the person standing at the other end of the desk.

“Maybe she’ll share,” she whispered.

Peter followed her look. His eyes landed on a girl. She looked mortified. Given the books lying next to her open backpack on the desk, she’d clearly been packing them up. At the top of the pile lay the coveted textbook. And she’d clearly overheard his whole exchange with the librarian.

You lock your gaze onto the books in front of you. You could feel your cheeks warming, and the last thing you wanted was to accidentally make eye contact with this stranger. This ridiculously attractive stranger you’d noticed in class before… Peter Parker… who had clearly had the same idea about the book being returned today…

You feel terrible at having snatched it up just before him. You hadn’t known someone else was after it, too, but you could’ve guessed, and it felt like pure luck that you got it first. You have no idea how to react, and before you can come up with any idea at all, you sense him stepping toward you and freeze in panic.

“Um, hey,” Peter whisper-says. God, why didn’t he just speak at a normal volume? He was in the library, sure, but just the entrance. He’s sure he sounded weird, and that’s the last thing he wanted after his little outburst clearly made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t your fault you’d gotten the book before him.

Your eyes dart up to meet his at his words, and when they do, his nerves increase tenfold. Your eyes are so damn pretty. All of you is. And you look half way to an anxiety attack at his approach. “Hey, sorry,” he tries. “Sorry, I know we don’t know each other, but I just… Um, well… Sorry about that,” he ends lamely, gesturing back to where his exchange with the librarian just occurred. “It’s okay,” you whisper, smiling awkwardly and tucking your hair behind your ears. You look back down at your hands, pulling at the too-long sleeves of your shirt.

Peter’s hand comes up to his head, messing with his hair in a typical nervous tick. He can’t stop staring at you, and you can’t stop avoiding his stare. He had to say something else before the mounting awkwardness blew up. Why couldn’t he think of anything? God, why was his heart racing faster than it ever did when he had to fight giant, scary monsters? Somehow you were scarier.

“Um,” he starts again. “You in, uh, you in Vidal’s biology class?” he ventures, guessing you need the book to study for the same exam as he. It blows his mind he hasn’t noticed you before if you are.

“Mmhmm,” you nod softly.

“Me too,” he says and cringes. “I don’t recognize you.” “Oh, I don’t know. I tend to sit in the back.” You finally look up at him as you say this. Your eyes meet, and it’s too much to handle. After what feels like an eternal instant, you both look away chuckling.

Peter’s just nodding like an idiot, chewing his bottom lip, reeling for something else to say but failing miserably. At this point, the thought of getting the book has totally vanished from his mind. The fear of failing next week has been completely replaced with the fear of failing right now. The idea of your walking away and his not getting to talk to you again makes his stomach sink.

You’re just staring at your hands, unsure what you’re supposed to do in this kind of situation. How do people just know what they’re supposed to do when other people are involved?

You still feel really bad that you got the book first, and you figure he’s only still talking to you to ask when you’ll be done with it. The exam is so soon, you hadn’t really been planning to return it till after. But keeping it to yourself when he needed it too made your stomach twist. You didn’t even know him, but you wanted to help him. So, you mustered the courage to do something you know, from experience, you otherwise wouldn’t do.

You say softly, “If you want… um, I don’t know… maybe, we could share it?”

“What?” he responds, too quickly, confused, his voice nervously airy.

You’re not sure if he didn’t hear what you said — possible with how softly you’re speaking — or didn’t understand what you meant, so you don’t know what to say. Words are too hard, so you just grab the book — your hands grateful for something to do — and hold it up to him like an offering.

“Oh!” he hiccups. Then, “Oh,” he says more quietly, chuckling lightly. “I mean, I don’t want to bother you. You got it first fair and square.” “Yeah,” you shrug. “But you need it, too, right?”

“Yeah…” His mind begins stirring up images of the two of you studying together… maybe laughing together eventually… sitting closer together to both get a good look at the book…

It’s making his heart beat faster, and he realizes he’d be an idiot to not seize the opportunity. It’s the perfect excuse to spend more time with you, and he doesn’t even have to ask you out. Yet.

So, he quickly says, “Yeah, um, sharing would be great. If you don’t mind. I can just meet up with you whenever you were going to study anyway… Wherever is good for you; I don’t mind; you choose; whatever you prefer is good with me —” Having started, he can’t stop talking now, his nerves morphing into words, eager to leave his body.

You giggle at his garrulousness, and he knows he’s in trouble when the sound of it makes his breath hitch.

“Well,” you say. “I was planning to get started now… you know, since I’d been waiting to get my hands on the book. If you wanted to, um, maybe go to the café maybe?”

You hadn’t in fact been planning to start right away. If you were honest with yourself, you’d been planning to put it off till you couldn’t not… like you always did no matter how hard you tried to get an early start. Note to self: the only cure you’ve found to procrastination so far: ridiculously pretty boys with warm eyes and a voice you could listen to forever.

“Yeah, that’d be great. That’d be great,” he nods, smiling. It’s the first time you’ve seen him fully smile. You’d be happy to just hand him the book as long as you could watch him study, the exam be damned.

“Great,” you repeat, grabbing your things and turning toward the café. Your eyes widen in panicked disbelief at what just happened. You glance slightly back just to make sure you hadn’t imagined it, and sure enough: Peter Parker is taking a quick step to follow you. He falls in step with you as you walk, and it’s terrifying and invigorating just how much you like the feeling of him close beside you.

#peter parker #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter imagine #tasm! peter oneshot #tasm!peter fanfic #spiderman fanfiction #ria1k

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redhoodobsessed · 1 month

Text

Diagnosis is...

Jason Todd x Reader

This one is kind of weird i just thought it would be funny and it spiraled from there. You meet your boyfriends family at a very bad time. TW: vomiting, Pregnancy

Jason always took you to the Manor when his family wasn't home. The only member who you were well acquainted with was Alfred and Duke. Even after being together for a year and moving with eachother he wasn't ready for you to meet his family. Truthfully he was worried they would be... too much.

Jason sat you down gently on his bed in his old bedroom.

"You really didn't need to carry me here from the cave I'm not that sick" you sighed as he tucked you into the bed.

"Sure but I wanted to." He went to kiss your lips but you pulled back

"Trust me lover boy you do not want to kiss these lips"

He chuckled and kissed you on the cheek instead "I'll be back at five ok?"

You nodded waiting for him to leave before running to his bathroom and vomiting.

After 10 minutes you went looking around. He only ever took you to the manor when no one else was around but Alfred. But this time even he wasn't here. Bruce was on some big undercover mission in another country basically the enormous amounts of people who were usually here weren't except for Jason and Duke who were taking over the nightly patrol in Gotham. This was perfect for your mission.

You searched every bathroom and medicine cabinet you could find surely in a house this big which was home to the billionaire playboy had to have at least one. You could swear you'd been looking for hours practically torn apart the entire mansion when you heard a sympathic sounding voice say. "Looking for something?"

You turned around to see a redheaded green eyed woman in a wheelchair. Barbara Gordon.

"Uh uhm Sprite?" Definitely not a great answer if you were trying to deceive a world renowned cyber detective who caught you pulling apart her boyfriends medicine cabinet. But she humored you and took you to the kitchen.

"Why sprite?" She said

"The acid from Lemons are neutralising which help relieve nausea. They give it to people in outpatient after things like wisdom tooth extraction at the hospital. Also I don't like lemonade."

"Right, Jason said you weren't feeling well. What are the symptoms?" She was absolutely probing you for information. She saw the frantically thrown about flu medicine and pain killers, you were looking for something specific.

you weren't planning on spilling everything to a complete stranger but you had to tell someone or you would probably go crazy. "Well nausea, slight headache, swollen feet and breasts, late menstruation cycle I would say patient diagnosis would be-"

"Pregnancy" she interrupted her face completely bewildered. Jason Todd got a girl pregnant.

"About 2 to 3 weeks along but I can't know for sure without-"

"A pregnancy test" she interrupted again.

"I would rather go to the Doctor and get a blood test but Jason and I just moved in together and I only realised I was late yesterday."

"We can do a blood test! Downstairs in the cave right now" Barbara immediately started heading to the elevator to the cave.

"That will take a while you don't have a regular pregnancy test here?"

She thought for a second "I don't think so."

So you went down to do the test you were surprised they had every blood test known to man "you know an at home pregnancy test only takes two minutes" you say as you draw your own blood you needed to practice anyway.

"Well we could watch a movie? It's only two hours."

"Yeah only" you sighed and Barbara finished the rest of the process now all you had to do was wait for the results. Your heart almost stopped when you heard the roar of a motorcycle enter the cave thinking it might be Jason.

"It's just the Batgirls their mission ended early." Barbara said pulling up the live security footage of the runway and leaving it up. You almost collapsed from relief.

"Hey Babs! Who's this?" The purple Batgirl said as she took off her Cowl revealing her blonde hair and chipper smile.

"I uhm I'm Y/n"

"Oh Jason's girlfriend! You're sick right?" She glanced over at the screen the blood test now almost halfway done. "What's a HCG test?"

Barbara minimised the window and looked at you as you tried to formulate a lie but it was too late. The other batgirl who must be Cassandra signed something to Stephanie.

"No way!" Her face was in utter disbelief and god you wished Jason had just left you in the apartment. This was not how you wanted to meet his family.

"It's probably nothing it could be anything really." You really wanted to believe that. You wanted to believe it was something crazy rare.

"Like what?" Stephanie said with full curiosity. She definitely didn't seem to realise the invasive nature of that question until Cassandra put a hand on her shoulder. "Right well good luck with that Cass and I are gonna train for a bit."

"Don't worry you can trust them" Barbara's words gave little comfort. Your face was red with embarrassment its not that you didn't trust them it's that you just met them. Their first impression of their brothers girlfriend is that she could be pregnant.

It wasn't long before you heard people talking from the staircase "TIMOTHY BERNIE!"Stephanie yelled "What are you doing here?!"

"Well I was showing Bernard the mansion and i thought id take him to see the cave too i need to check up on a blood test of a rat i found scarecrow experimenting on too. Hey! Are you Y/n?" Tim asked shaking your hand.

You were relieved at the fact that he would be the first family member to not also be wondering whether or not you were pregnant. "It's nice to meet you. Jason talks about you a lot."

"He talks about all of you too I think he's been a bit nervous for us to meet."

"So was Tim. I'm Bernard, Tim's boyfriend" you had been so relieved and distracted by normal conversation without any indication of any possible pregnancy that you didn't see Tim looking at the computers in the med bay.

"Uh who ordered the HCG? Was it an accident or...?"

"HCG? I meant to do a CRP! damn well now I'll know if I'm pregnant or not." At least Stephanie was good at improv

"But this says its y/n's?" Tim said skeptical of the whole situation

"What?! I must of mixed up our blood" ok so she might not win an Oscar but you could work with this.

"Oh yeah I was practicing drawing blood sometimes they have us do it on other med students and if you don't practice uh it's embarrassing." You were definitely not winning an Oscar.

"Right." He was definitely unconvinced. But his angel of a boyfriend noticed your nervous face and came to your rescue.

"Happens to the best of us." He has a very warm and comforting smile Tim has good taste in men.

As time went on your stomach started to churn and you laid back on a medical bed. There was the loud hum of a jet engine and huge doors opening up above you. "Uhh please not Bruce Wayne"

"Bruce Wayne" everyone except Bernard seemed to say in unison "and the results are in."

"I don't want to know" you didnt want this to be such a big deal you didn't want so many people to know and you certainly didn't want Jason's whole family to know before he did.

"Ah miss Y/n I see you've met more of the family" Alfred said walking down from where ever the Jet was parked above you.

"It's been a pleasure" you say truly not wanting to sound rude they had all been very kind to you their timing is just so so poor.

"Ah Jason had told me you're not feeling well. Can I bring you anything Y/n"

"Y/n?" I voice that must belong to Bruce followed behind Alfred. "Oh I didn't know you would be here" Bruce Wayne said cowl in hand his face looking tired. A young looking boy walked towards the bat computer ignoring you. honestly you were grateful for not having to meet another batfamily member.

You were trying to get up but he interrupted "no no please don't get up on my behalf rest its quite late."

You were going to respond but your stomach stirred again and a gurgle went up your throat. Bruce was quick to respond and got you a vomit bag. Great the first thing Bruce Wayne had ever heard from you was the disgusting sound of vomit. "You are quite sick" He put his hand on your forehead automatically. But there was no time to make up an excuse or reason.

"She's not sick, she's pregnant" the young and very rude boy said... definitely Damian.

"Oh uhm is uh.. when did you find out?" Bruce was extremely flustered, but by now you had experienced enough embarrassment for the night and just wanted Jason to come home.

"Just then" with the perfect timing that this family seemed to have you heard Jason and Duke ride into the cave to see an utterly confused Batman standing next to you.

"None of you are supposed to be here." Jason growled as he made his way to you he was about to glare at Bruce when he saw his bright red face he stopped "What's wrong with you?Salina break up with you again?" Jason

"Uhm" Bruce cleared his throat "you're right we're not supposed to be here. We should all go upstairs." He started heading to the stairs but everyone else seemed to be looking at you "now!" He said sternly in his Batman voice the room quickly cleared out after that.

You sighed a breath of relief as Jason sat next to you and pulled you close kissing your temple. "What was his problem?" He asked rubbing your arm and resting his head on your shoulder.

"Well I'm not technically sick."

"Hmm?" He didn't even seemed phased by this he just leaned into you more

"I had to do a test and uh everyone saw the result."

"Is it bad?" This man after a patrol you could swear his head was made of bricks.

"Depends. Do you think its bad that I'm pregnant." You said hesitantly a very small part of you worried that he would say yes but worse is he didn't say anything. "Jason?"

"Uh no!" He moved to face you his forehead pressed against yours "No it's its not bad its just its unexpected and then I'm sorry I'm sorry for all of that and them and wow"

You giggled "Yeah it's not exactly what I was expecting for tonight"

He cupped your cheek and smiled at you "I love you Y/N"

Tears started to well in your eyes "I love you too Jason" He pulled you in for a long kiss. Finally all you wanted all night was to be with him.

Upstairs Dick arrived home to...chaos. Stephanie was talking to Cass about everything they were going to do to prepare for.. something. Tim was yelling at Damian, Barbara and Bernard were telling Duke about the entire night and Bruce sat in an armchair still in complete embarrassment and disbelief.

"Did I miss something?"

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader

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rottiens · 2 months

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DO YOU GET DÉJÀ VU? | RYŌMEN SUKUNA

✮ about. . maybe a family dinner is not the best place to clarify your feelings with your situationship, but you couldn't wait.

✮ tags. . modern au, fem!reader, situationship, all characters are adults (21+), confusing emotions and mixed feelings, mentions of alcohol consumption, lovesick sukuna and reader pretending they are not, suggestive, mostly fluff. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ word count. . 2.6k

A couple of days ago you found out what love languages are, totally against your will and completely thanks to Itadori, who forced you to take an online quiz he found completely by accident and clicked on even though you warned him over and over again not to (distrust of links coming from strangers and all that), plus all the information was recorded on the library's free and public wifi.

As always, your warnings and advice went unheeded by your friend who not only filled out and sent the link to the friends group chat, but made you answer the questionnaire as well because he claimed it was something of utmost importance for him to know in order to improve his relationship with you and understand you better.

Itadori has always been interested in the aspects and topics of psychology and now that you were spending more time together, due to the fact that you are always now in his apartment, apparently there was an unspoken contract signed in which you are also committed to take an interest in psychology while giving your devoted attention to itadori when he rambles on about it.

The point is, ever since you got the results about love languages you haven't stopped thinking about it. Yes, maybe at first you were incredulous and somewhat reluctant to the idea that an online test could describe you correctly as if it were some kind of witchcraft, the truth is that to your surprise, it got it right and thanks to that you have realized that sukuna's love language is probably, physical contact.

It was ridiculous the number of times you've almost been caught being in some situation that compromises the status of your "unofficial relationship" and all because he can't keep his hands to himself when you're around.

The last time was weird…and awkward. You were supposed to have the apartment to yourselves, sukuna explicitly asked his brother to take at least two more hours doing the shopping, adding things like extremely soft tissues and spaghetti shaped like squares he needed for his cooking course, sukuna was sure this would make his brother take as long as necessary for you two to have a moment alone.

However, surprise was marked raw on your face as you heard the keys in the front door. There was no longer time to move or run away, you were on sukuna's lap watching a series in the main room, his arms were strangling your waist, his legs intertwined with yours to such an extent that they seemed as one and his face felt warm on the line between your neck and shoulder.

Trying to get away from him as quickly as possible you got tangled up with his legs and your pajama pants falling to the floor, hitting your mouth and, of course, breaking the coffee table in the middle of the mess.

You want to forget Itadori's face and his eyebrows rising to his hairline that appears every night since then before you fall asleep. And you swore, you shouted at sukuna, never to set foot in his apartment or his room again because it was always you who had it in for him.

You look at him out of the corner of your eye, wishing he could read your mind and realize you were still angry, yet you never expected him to be looking at you first. Your eyes return to the plate in front of you, and seeking to distract yourself you pinch off a piece of some vegetable with your fork and bring it to your mouth chewing ferociously.

You should be paying attention to itadori and his grandfather discussing a topic you are sure is very important while choso nods euphorically agreeing with itadori, as always. You should be paying attention to the delicious dish the itadori family had prepared for you, to his grandfather who is recovering after weeks in the hospital, yet all you can think about is sukuna, and in his language love… and deep down you hate yourself for it.

You wanted to force yourself to be present and bind your thoughts here. But you couldn't help that they all ended up in sukuna and it's the same thing that has happened the previous weeks, all your thoughts and conversations ended up around him, because you can't tell anyone about you two or how he makes you feel or how really "not so bad" he is deep down.

You stop in the middle of bringing your fork to your mouth, the wheel that keeps coherent thoughts in motion stops and you look at him. You wonder what he's doing, he wonders the same.

As the conversation continues at a perky pace, under the table one of his long fingers reaches for yours, reaches blindly for your hand, first stumbling over your bare knee and then, succeeding, curls your index finger between his and holds you there, in an act that seems both innocent and childish.

He continues to eat as if he has done nothing, now laughing, covering his mouth with a napkin at Grandpa Itadori's reaction to something to which Choso intervenes and says some seemingly funny comment that you should be paying attention to.

You should be paying attention, in fact—

Because when Itadori later talks to you about how much he was bothered by something sukuna said, you won't be able to respond because you were too distracted admiring his older brother's perfect jawline and cheekbones.

You take advantage of the fact that no one is noticing you to wipe the corners of your mouth with the napkin and drag the chair under your weight, the wood creaks against the floor but passes unnoticed due to the scandal that ignites like a fierce flame and the instrumental music in the background. You look at choso with a chagrined face and ask him to tell you where the bathroom is, only before you can finish the sentence Sukuna is interrupting you, rising from his chair to offer to take you to the bathroom himself and you were about to tell him no, that you were fine, because you know where this would lead only once again, you are interrupted because he takes your hand and helps you out of the dining room leading you to the uncertainty of the hallway behind you.

You prefer not to say anything the whole walk because what you have to say may not be what he wants to hear, you follow him silently, the heavy footsteps of his bare feet can be heard much better now that the fuss is behind you. Your lips are halfway to a thank you when he stops in front of a door you assume is the bathroom, only your words are replaced by a gasp as he pushes you inside without warning.

"Uhh!" you groan at the force with which he stamps your body against the door, you smack his chest, joking, complaining that he's a brute. "You need to stop doing that."

Sukuna smiles because you still do nothing to escape him, you stand there looking at him with your arms crossed and your nose wrinkled. Sukuna stretches his arm behind you to your right and in the blink of an eye the light expands across the room shutting out the shadows. Your eyelids flutter to adjust to the sudden change in lighting and just as you had imagined, you were not in the bathroom, of course, but in some sort of study.

"I was bored listening to them argue," he purrs, lowering his face to you. "You weren't?" his hand cradles your cheek tilting your face closer to his, waves of the taste of the alcohol he was drinking escape into your mouth along with his natural scent now covered by the perfume he wears (hints of dark leather and spice).

Sukuna doesn't let you think about what he just said, since before you can speak he rests his lips on you silencing any protest, but this time it's different from any kiss he has given you before… his hands are not on your ass pushing you against his erection or lifting the hem of your dress to push your panties aside, on the contrary, his hands are on your cheeks; holding you there as if he was afraid you were going to move somewhere.

You are in control, unlike other encounters. You push further into him to take over his mouth and mark him as yours and he allows you to, blindly, the touch of his fingers creating an electric path that leads to your waist and there he stays still for a moment until he chooses to move to your lower back and pulls you to him. Sukuna says your name in the middle of the kiss and your knees buckle a little.

You pull away to breathe, but he comes back to you this time pinning you more against the door and leaving you helpless he works his way up to take hold of your tongue. A desperate moan tears from his throat when you don't give in to him and instead join in his game by biting his lower lip, your noses stumble and sukuna pushes you much harder, this time clearly, allowing you to feel the effect you have on him.

His cock is throbbing with need against your thigh, his hands are squeezing your waist, pouncing on you to wrap around your back in a strange embrace that forces you to hold his neck to keep the position comfortable for both of you.

As you pull away again there is only raw desire in the room, slowly, the atmosphere fills with a tension you can both feel as you drown in that sort of fog of lust.

"I need to take you," he says then.

"Here?"

"Fuck, yes. Here."

Guilt assaults your stomach.

"Your grandfather… the dinner…"

You were as heated and thought clouded as much as he was, but you force yourself to remember the only coherent words that come into your head. His fingers exert pressure on your waist as if seeking some self-control not to attack your mouth again.

"You know how I feel about the dinner or how little I care what they think we're doing."

You try to pretend everything is fine and plant your best fake smile… unfortunately, you've never been a good actress.

"What's wrong?" Sukuna asks immediately and it makes you think that maybe he knows how to read your mind after all, or that he just knows you better than you think.

The false smile you built crumbles, turning into a tight line that forces your lips not to tremble.

"This is the reason you invited me to come with you?"

Was that the question you wanted to ask? No. But it was the first thing you thought of and the doubt that has gnawed at your thoughts since you stepped in the doorway.

"…"

The tight line of your lips quivers, morphing into a pout for a millisecond.

"Hmm right. I think we need to go back."

You try to struggle to get away though it's clearly in vain and you give up, stop struggling, instead filling your lungs with a breath of air that brings with it courage and its damn addictive scent.

"W-wait, what?"

"I've been thinking and I don't feel comfortable doing this," you try to point out the space between you but you're so close together it's nonexistent, so once more, you give up and drop your hand down again, adding, "You're my best friend's brother."

"And?"

Your eyebrows draw together in desperation to keep your cool in the face of a situation that is obvious to you.

"That's just why we shouldn't keep sneaking around like we're doing something wrong. It's unfair that I can't talk it over with Kugisaki or Yuuji."

"Then you want to… what?"

You realize this is just the reason why Nobara didn't support your "relationship" or secret sneaking around with sukuna, she doesn't like him and you understood why, but you still wanted to give him a chance and prove her wrong, that he could be more than that. Maybe it's you who was wrong.

"Forget it, Ryōmen." You try to force yourself on him to escape before you say something you don't mean and this time he relents, taking a step back, except that before you can open the door and run to the dining room, his fingers hover around your wrist making you a prisoner once more.

"Hey, hey. Wait. You want to make it official? Is that it?"

You pause to look at the grip on your wrist, then move up to his eyes.

"I want you to do what you feel. I don't want to tell you what to do."

Sukuna licks his bottom lip, you notice his chest rise and fall under the white shirt. Slowly he pulls you closer to him again and you let him, you let him guide your hand to his chest and with the help of his hands he makes your open palm just above his heart.

"I'm not so good with words and I'm sorry." His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that it made your hand tremble, it scared you what you felt, the way his chest was vibrating with the force of his heartbeat was perhaps stronger than yours. "But I want you to be mine, it's all I ever wanted…all those times I teased you when we were kids…it was me scared because I didn't understand what this was that you made me feel."

You couldn't look him in the eye, and yet you forced yourself to; your foot shifting restlessly on the floor and your free hand trembling.

"Don't leave me. I want to be yours, even if it means having to hold your hand in front of Nobara and having to share you with my brother. Just… stay, please."

You'd never heard him ask for anything. Not to you or his brothers, everything in front of you was new, even to Sukuna himself. He'd never met someone before that made him run his feelings for them out of control the way you did, but the idea that you were going to break up with him there, in his childhood home, with his family outside where he'd have to pretend he didn't care about you, made him much more afraid than he'd like to admit.

Finally, he pulls your hand away from his chest and brings it up to the level of his mouth where he kisses your knuckles and then the back of your hand.

"Let's go back to the dining room," he murmurs against your skin.

You, still with your feet in the clouds, sigh. You bite your lip to find coherence and restraint in your thoughts. "Yeah… I'm a little dizzy still."

He laughs. "Too much wine?"

"It's just you." You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from saying the next three words that are on the tip of your tongue, your system needs to expel them somehow to keep you from choking on them, so you disguise them. "I love your perfume. It smells so good."

"It's okay to say you like me."

Sukuna leans towards you with a mischievous smile and you close your eyes to feel his loving lips on your forehead. Then suddenly, footsteps coming from the hallway make you startle creating deja vu. It was probably Itadori, who would find the two of you sneaking kisses in his grandfather's study like teenagers in love, but at least after this you didn't have to hide anymore and that was all that mattered.

#wr #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna fluff

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