#asks are still open to any and all questions either about the AU

[noxin-sans]

More lil update cuuuuus i hadnt posted anythin to here in months..

Like Original Undertales Sans, and his well known likeing for ketchup and to drink ketchup, commonly being seen either holding or drinking a bottle of ketchup, Noxin Sans whould instead commonly be seen with Pickles.

So being near her..or just watching her, seeing her doing anything not impoetant or nothing at all, you have a good 80% chance to see her with a jar of pickles and likely eating them or drinking the known to be sour pickle juice in the jar, she will not share, but she will dare you to drink pickle juice, and maybe in return.. she'll give you one of the gold feathers, it dosent do much besides glow, and dosent really hold magic aside from what makes it glow, but its cool looking? And if she likes you enough, she may give you an explosive throwing knife, she will also not be responcable for any.. casualties that may occur with your use of the knife.

[sleepyhoon]

part 2 - read part 1 here

✰ pairing. — emo!hs x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend’s older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 10k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, friendship betrayal, mention of drugs/alcohol, smut [ cunnilingus, rough sex, …idk how else to describe it ] reader and hs are both 18+, minors dni, cliffhanger.

✰ a/n. PART 3 IS IN THE WORKS PART 3 IS IN THD WORKS PART 3 IS IN THE WORKS

✰ perm taglist. @intromortal @aanniikkaa @meetletsinmontauk @lovelyyf @right-person-wrong-time

———

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” Chaeryeong is glaring daggers at you upon opening the front door, arms crossed across her chest as she eyes you. Her lips are twisted into a disgusted snarl, you’ve never seen her this upset before.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “Find out about what?”

She cocks her head to the side, squinting her eyes at you, “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Fuck, you’re screwed. If there were a list of all the reasons why you shouldn’t have had sex with Lee Heeseung, the simple fact of him being your best friend’s brother would be number one.

With closed eyes, you let out a relieved sigh. As much as you wanted to wait to tell Chaeryeong about hooking up with Heeseung, it’d be an enormous weight off your shoulders not having to hide it any longer. It’d only been a few days since it happened, but you hate keeping secrets from her.

“How’d you find out?” You question, chewing on your bottom lip.

“My parents told me, duh.”

Holy crap, Heeseung told his parents the two of you had sex? Why the fuck would he do that?

“They did?” You ask, completely bewildered.

“Well, yeah!” Chaeryeong finally uncrosses her arms, demeanor completely changing as her gaze softens, “Why didn’t you tell me your sister got engaged?”

Thank God you didn’t elaborate any further.

“Oh! Because they probably aren’t gonna last.” You respond, stepping into the Lee household once Chaeryeong allows you to enter. It’s been a few days since you’ve been here, mostly due to the fact that you were completely avoiding Heeseung.

The empty condom in his trash bin had been plaguing your mind nonstop, you could barely even sleep from how embarrassed you were. Why did he fake his orgasm? What if he didn't fake an orgasm and just shot a blank? Did you do something wrong? Was he not attracted to you? Why was the condom empty?

Seeing him in person would’ve only intensified the thoughts roaming in your head, so you avoided him at all costs up until now. You’d promised the Lee siblings that you’d finally see Twilight with them and their friends despite not being able to function correctly around either of them.

Chaeryeong snickers, following you into the living room. “Ooh, that’s not nice.”

“It’s true, though,” you explain, “she’s still so young, only a few years older than your brother. I mean, can you picture Heeseung getting married in a few years?”

The regret from that question fills you almost immediately.

“Sure,” Chaeryeong responds, pausing to greet the eager doberman charging at her. “As long as he finds the right person; he’d get married in a heartbeat.”

You want to ask what Chaeryeong’s definition of “the perfect person” would be for Heeseung or the type of girl she’d be willing to set him up with. It’d probably be the unnamed, mysterious redhead you recently dreamed about curb stomping (yikes!).

You don’t respond to this, taking a seat on the sofa when the sudden shout of your name has you flinching. It’s Chaeryeong’s parents, excitedly greeting you with open arms as you politely stand to properly hug them. “I feel like it’s been so long since we’ve seen you! How’s your family? We just heard the news about your sister!” Mrs. Lee ambushes you with questions, all while cradling your face.

“About how she’s making the biggest mistake of her life?” You half-joke.

Mrs. Lee playfully waves a hand in your direction as she steps into the kitchen, her husband only a few feet behind. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m sure the two of them will be very happy together.” She turns to her husband, grabbing his hand, “I just can’t believe Imogen is getting married. I still remember when she first started high school.”

Mr. Lee sighs in disbelief. “I know,” he mumbles, nodding at you. “You’re up next soon, huh?”

“Maybe she can marry Heeseung,” Mrs. Lee joked, opening her fridge, “set him straight.”

There’s an idea.

“Gross, Mom. Don’t wish that on her.” Chaeryeong groans in disgust as she plops down next to you.

Well, that answers your previous question.

“We should probably get going, right? To make it in time for the trailers?” You ask.

“Yeah, we should.” Chaeryeong responds, tilting her head up towards the staircase, “Heeseung! Hurry up and come downstairs! We’re ready to go!”

“Gimmie a minute!” He shouts back, and a chill runs down your spine. It’s been too long since you’ve heard his voice. The last time you saw him, he was lying naked in his bed; you’re not sure how you’ll survive being around him all night knowing what your last encounter was like.

As promised, Heeseung is sliding down the staircase a minute later and nails the landing. He’s wearing a black Twilight shirt featuring the leading couple, black cargo pants, and, of course, black sneakers. He looks like his usual self until you take a closer look and notice the reddish-black eyeshadow that decorated his eyes. It wasn’t much, just enough to make his eyes pop, and it complimented him perfectly. A second later, you see the black nail polish neatly coated on his nails. You have to blink a few times to ensure this is real life and you’re not trapped in a wet dream.

He strolls into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from his parents before digging through the fridge. His mom clears her throat, crossing her arms at him.

“What?” He asks, retrieving a two-liter Mountain Dew bottle.

“Seriously, Heeseung? The makeup? The nail polish?” She questions, clearly frustrated.

Heeseung cocks his head, unscrewing the soda bottle’s lid. “What’s wrong with it? Chaeryeong’s wearing the same thing.”

“Son, you know that’s different.” His father interjects.

Heeseung takes a swig of the soda before responding. “Why? Because she’s a girl?”

“It’s not like that, hon. It’s just…we didn’t make a big deal of it when you first started the piercings, and the tattoos, and the hair dye, but this…it’s a little much. Don’t you think?” His mother asks.

You want to step in and tell his parents that Heeseung is old enough to make his own decisions and express himself as he pleases, but it’s not your place. Instead, you cheer silently when Chaeryeong surprisingly interrupts the discussion. “Did you guys seriously force him to come back home just to criticize how he presents himself, or would you rather have a peaceful summer?”

“We aren’t trying to criticize him, Chaeryeong. We’re just looking out for our child.” Mr. Lee responds.

“It’s a special occasion, Dad. Is it bad that I wanted to look nice for—” Heeseung abruptly cuts himself short, quickly glancing in your direction before returning his attention to his parents. “...to go see Twilight with my friends?”

What was that about?

Silence passes, and the three stare at each other until Mrs. Lee sighs defeatedly and says, “No, there’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. I hope you guys enjoy the movie.”

“We will,” Heeseung responds, closing the soda bottle lid and placing it back in the fridge. He heads for the front door, beckoning you and Chaeryeong to follow behind. He’s eager to leave the house, quickly swinging the front door open and jogging towards his car.

You and Chaeryeong say goodbye to her parents with a promise to be home by eleven before following in Heeseung’s footsteps, who already has the car running. As you wait for Chaeryeong to finish locking the front door, Heeseung rolls down his window and shouts, “Hurry up! Let’s go!”

“Will you calm down?!” Chaeryeong throws back, rolling her eyes as she finally removes the house key from the lock.

You follow her towards Heeseung’s car, sliding into the backseat as you pretend not to notice Heeseung watching you through the rearview mirror. He wants you to look at him, but you refuse, busying yourself by buckling your seatbelt and convincing Chaeryeong to do the same. Once Heeseung is convinced you’re not going to do so much as glance at him, he puts the car in drive and pulls into the road.

Chaeryeong talks your ear off in the backseat about whatever comes to mind while you keep your eyes on the window. It’s hard to not notice Heeseung glancing back at you through the mirror at every red light or stop sign, but you don’t dare meet his gaze.

The movie theater’s parking lot is crowded when you arrive; it takes Heeseung a few minutes to eventually locate a spot. A smile is plastered on his face as he parks the car, eager to see some of his closest friends after being separated. He informs you and Chaeryeong to disregard anything foolish he friends may say, claiming they arrived early to smoke behind the movie theater, so they’re more than likely too high to function properly.

Heeseung shrugs when Chaeryeong asks why people do that, shoving his hands into his pockets as the three of you make your way towards the theater entrance. “Some people say it makes the movie experience better.”

You want to ask Heeseung if he’s ever been high, but you can barely even bring yourself to look in his direction; let alone ask him a question. So you’re silent as the three of you enter the movie theater, instantly spotting Heeseung’s bandmates in the far corner.

Well…Heeseung’s bandmates and one other guest.

The bubbly redhead greets you guys first, running up to Heeseung with open arms as if they haven’t seen each other in a million years. It makes you want to vomit.

You look away as they hug, directing your attention to the concession stand employee who had apparently already been watching you. His name tag reads ‘Jake’, and he resembles a slightly younger version of Heeseung, with the same dark hair and similar lip piercing. His eyes stay on you until a customer blocks your path, and you’re back to watching Heeseung reunite with his friends.

“Hey, you were the one at that party, right? With Chaeryeong?” The redhead asks, squinting her eyes at you.

“Yeah.” Is all you respond with, because why in God’s name is this girl talking to you right now?

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Scar,” she introduces herself, extending a hand for you to shake.

Chaeryeong interjects, grabbing ahold of your wrist while glaring at Scar. “Your name is Scarlett.”

She drags you along to the ticketbooth, mumbling about she doesn’t like nor trusts Scar. When you ask for her reasonsings, she responds with, “I don’t need one. I just don’t like her.”

At least you’re on the same page about that.

Still, you can’t help but wonder why Chaeryeong has a distaste for Scar. You have your petty reasoning for disliking her, but Chaeryeong (more than likely) has better knowledge of Scar’s personality, so whatever reasons she has for disliking her could be legitimate.

You’re thinking of this as Heeseung is ordering the tickets for everyone, asking the employee to give him a minute when the friend you recognise as Jay starts tapping his shoulder. “We should go see Saw instead, it just came out.”

Heeseung looks genuinely confused at the suggestion. “What? No, we came here to see Twilight.”

“So?!” Jungwon chimes in, eyes as red as the devil, “Come on, dude, you’ve already seen Twilight, don’t you wanna see something new?”

“Fuck no, we’re literally in the middle of buying the tickets.” Heeseung reminds everyone.

“I kinda wanna see Saw, too.”

“Same.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I do, too.”

Heeseung whips his head around at his sister, “What? Even you?”

Chaeryeong scoffs, “Well, yeah! Twilight just seems boring in comparison.”

“Come on guys,” the employee interrupts, “you’re holding up the line.”

Heeseungs turns towards you. “Do you still wanna see Twilight?”

Truthfully, you want to go home; but seeing how excited Heeseung was for the movie made you feel something, so you nod. He lets out a relieved sigh.

He moves out of the way to allow his friends to buy their tickets first, slipping his sister cash to pay for hers; to which she initially rejects. “I don’t need your money,” she claims.

“Just take it, Chaeryeong. I brought it for you.”

From what you can make out, it’s enough to cover her ticket and grab something from the concession stand. The pair of siblings may bicker a lot, but it’s nice to know Heeseung still looks out for his younger sister whenever he can.

Chaeryeong reluctantly accepts the money and purchases her ticket, you watch as Heeseung follows suit; ordering two tickets for Twilight and stopping you from opening your purse. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I have enough.” You reassure him.

Heeseung laughs to himself, “Why are the two of you like this?” He questions, fishing out crumpled dollar bills from his pocket and handing them to the cashier who sighs in annoyance, straightening and inspecting each bill before placing it in his register.

You don’t know why Heeseung insists on being so nice to you despite your persistence on not speaking to him. A part of you wonders if he thinks this is some kind of date now that the two of you will be separated from the group. It doesn’t matter, you don’t know why you’re thinking too much into it.

Once all the tickets have been purchased, the seven of you head towards the concession stand. Chaeryeong debates pushing herself to the front of the long line, claiming that the theater should make accommodations to those who’s movie is starting sooner. Or something like that, you can’t really focus with the way Jake is staring at you. You’re used to guys staring all the time, but they tend to shyly look away upon making eye contact.

Jake is quite the opposite, staring you down every chance he gets. Your skin feels hot, and you’re suddenly growing anxious under his gaze.

When the group ahead of you has finished ordering and is heading off into their theater, you’re sure to stick close to Heeseung as you approach the counter. Jake eyes him over once before returning his gaze to you. “What can I get for you guys?”

Heeseung takes the liberty of ordering a large popcorn for the two of you to share, and doesn’t even get mad when you request a slushie instead of a fountain drink. He doesn’t let you pay of course, swatting your hand away when you absentmindedly reach for your purse. “You seriously have to stop doing that.” He mumbles, handing Jake the cash.

Jake is quick to prepare the popcorn and Heeseung’s drink, but takes his time when making your slushie. He’s sure to fill it to the brim, and you’re worried it may accidentally overflow and leave a sticky mess. “You didn’t want candy or anything?” He questions, handing you your drink.

You shrug, “Maybe Twizzlers, but—”

Before you can finish, Jake is reaching under the counter then sliding you a pack of Twizzlers. “On me.”

“Oh, are you sure?” You ask, hesitant to accept the free candy.

Jake sends Heeseung a cocky smirk before he responds, “Yeah, enjoy the movie.”

You thank Jake and pretend to not notice the death glares the two boys are sending one another before walking with Heeseung to your theater. “That guy was weird.” He comments.

“Yeah.” You agree, but it’s definitely not true. Jake was friendly and clearly interested in you, unlike Heeseung who was sending you nonstop, draining mixed signals. If his definition of weird is someone who is straightforward, then perhaps you should start going after weirdos.

Once you’re settled in your seats in the back of the theater, — per Heeseung’s request — he clears his throat then says, “So, I tried messaging you on Facebook. Didn’t get anything back.”

“Oh, sorry. I haven’t been using Facebook that much.” You reply, hoping your lame excuse is believable enough.

He nods, eyes bouncing between you and the movie trailers playing in the background. “Yeah, I figured.” He says. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I would’ve asked Chaeryeong for your number, but I didn’t want her to get suspicious or anything.”

“That’s smart.” You admit, nodding in agreement.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asks suddenly, his full attention to you.

You finally make eye contact, and the expression on his face makes your heart sink. He looks genuinely concerned and confused by your sudden coldness. You hate being so mean to him, but you’re too embarrassed to explain the real reason why you’ve been avoiding him. So you nod and say, “Just a little tired.”

It’s clear he doesn’t believe this, the same expression is still on his face as he refocuses on the movie trailers.

You hate how awkward it feels to be around him now, never in a million years would you have guessed the two of you would end up like this. A week ago you would’ve been overjoyed at the idea of being on a movie date with Heeseung; and now you’re considering leaving early and catching a taxi home.

The two of you remain silent as the rest of the trailers play on, and Heeseung immediately sits up in his seat when the lights finally dim and the curtains are being pulled back further. He’s incredibly quiet throughout the movie aside from a muffled chuckle every now and then; he even side-eyes anyone making too much noise.

You enjoy Twilight nonetheless, agreeing with Heeseung that you do in fact dress like Bella Swan from time to time. When he asks if you liked it as you’re exiting the theater, you tell him it was very nice, and that you hope there’ll be another movie.

Heeseung smiles at this, tossing his empty cup in a nearby trash bin. “I’m sure there will be. Maybe they’ll even cast you as Bella’s stunt double since you already have the clothes.”

“Shut up.” You tease, and it feels nice to be able to joke around with him as usual. Maybe you’ll finally have the courage to tell Heeseung why you’ve been so distant these past few days.

Saw doesn’t get out for another few minutes, so you’re stuck waiting in the lobby for Chaeryeong and everyone else. Heeseung gestures towards the nearly empty slushie cup clutched in your hands, “You get free refills on that, I think.”

You take his word, strolling over to the concession stand. Jake spots you immediately and gestures for you to skip around the line. You shake your head, but he still beckons for you to come over. You feel bad, but the line has gotten longer since you were first here, and you really don’t want to wait in a long line just for a refill.

“What flavor?” He asks once you’ve slid him your cup.

You tell him anything is fine and he gets to work, combining the cherry and blue raspberry flavors. “How was the movie?”

“It was good. The vampire stuff was cool.”

“Have you seen Saw yet? It just came out.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“It’s so good; if you wanna give me your number maybe we can see it together some time.”

What is it with guys offering to take you out to a movie they’ve already seen? You’re not complaining, it’s just odd.

Jake is clearly interested in you and has offered to take you out. You'd be silly to pass up on this guy just because your current relationship with your longtime crush is at a standstill. So you accept, scribbling your phone number down on a napkin with your name underneath. He makes a promise to call you once his shift is over, and that he looks forward to seeing you.

When you turn to meet up with Heeseung, he’s gone. You catch him storming out of the theater, hauling ass to his car.

You run to catch up to him, calling out his name and begging him to slow down.

When he finally does stop, there’s a look on his face that you’ve never seen before. He gets angry all the time, but this was something completely different, something unrecognizable.

He was hurt.

“So you were just using me, huh?”

What? What is he talking about?

“Using you for what?”

“To lose your virginity. You just wanted to get it over with, right?” His voice is slightly hushed now, but still loud enough for you to feel embarrassed about anyone passing through the parking lot.

“Heeseung, what are you talking about?”

“You used me to lose your virginity, so when you date other guys you can tell them you’ve had sex before. Is that what this is?”

This accusation hurts, considering that Heeseung was the only guy you’ve ever been interested in romantically and sexually. You don’t know where this theory is coming from, but you don’t like it.

Heeseung continues before you respond, “I tried reaching out and talking to you, and you just blew me off! And yet here you are giving your number to random guys! Am I not good enough for you?!”

“It’s not like that, Heeseung!” You don’t mean to raise your voice at him, but you can’t help it. Both of your emotions were at an all time high.

“Then what is it like?!”

Here goes nothing.

There’s already tears forming as you go to explain yourself. “I didn’t reach out to you because…because I was embarrassed.”

“You were embarrassed to have sex with me?”

This is bad; really, really bad. Much worse than you could have ever imagined.

It’s started raining by now, and if Heeseung noticed it, then he doesn’t seem to care; allowing the raindrops to stain his outfit and ruin his eye makeup.

It feels like a scene from a movie, him standing there in the pouring rain waiting for a response while you stumble over your words to formulate one.

“No!” You yell in reassurance, “No, no, no. Of course not. I was embarrassed because I know you didn’t finish. I just thought maybe I did something wrong or maybe I didn’t do enough.”

Heeseung quirks a brow at you, “What makes you think I didn’t finish?”

You really hate that he’s making you explain this. “I saw the condom afterwards; it was empty.”

“You went digging in my trash can to find the condom?” Now he looks more disgusted than confused; this is going so horribly.

“No! I saw it when I went to get my phone off the charger.”

Heeseung takes a minute to process everything, scratching his chin in deep thought. You can’t tell what he’s feeling, but he does look hurt. It makes you regret avoiding him in the first place.

“So, you were prepared to never talk to me again over an empty condom?” Despite his tough demeanor, he’s clearly shaking as he questions you.

You want to say no, that it wasn’t a case, but you can’t bring yourself to lie to him again. So you say nothing. Heeseung nods at your lack of response before turning around and walking towards his car. You remain still, frozen in place, watching as he sits on the hood of his car and smokes a cigarette.

If it weren’t for Chaeryeong finishing her movie within the next few minutes, you would’ve walked the entire way home.

———

This bitch is driving you crazy.

Your older sister, Imogen, is home for a few days to start her wedding preparations. The fake bridezilla persona she's putting on bothers you the most, bursting out in tears at the most inconvenient times or having a breakdown about selecting a theme. Deep down, she doesn't care about any of this bullshit; she's like you about parties or big events.

"This is literally the biggest day of my life, and you're being so fucking difficult." Imogen snarls at you, pouring herself a cup of coffee. You're sitting a few feet away on the kitchen counter, staring out the kitchen window. Despite Imogen's occasional yelling and snarky comments, all you can think of is Heeseung.

It's been an entire week since the movie theater incident. You haven't stopped by the Lee household not once, telling Chaeryeong you fell ill and don't want to get her sick. It's another lame excuse, but she buys it, opting to talk to you on the phone daily until you recover.

You have yet to speak to Heeseung; but it's not like you've tried. The idea of messaging him on Facebook and not receiving a response makes you anxious, and it's hard to believe you subjected him to the same torture not long ago. It doesn't help that Scarlett is suddenly all over his page, commenting on nearly every one of his posts, writing on his wall, or tagging him in pictures. Your recurring dream of curb-stomping her is back in full force.

You sigh at your sister, "Whatever you say, Imogen."

She waves dismissively at you, "Please, don't even talk to me right now."

You hop off the counter in annoyance and stomp off towards the staircase, mumbling, "Fucking drama queen."

"Language." Your mom warns you, flipping through one of the several bridal magazines your sister has stacked on the coffee table.

Imogen scoffs, setting her mug on the counter. "I'm the drama queen? Whenever I talk about my wedding, you throw a fit."

"Why are you pretending to care about this stupid wedding and that stupid boy you barely even know?!" You shout back from the staircase.

"If my wedding is so stupid, then don't come!"

"I don't even want to go to your stupid wedding with your stupid fiancé and your stupid red velvet cake that no one's going to fucking eat!"

This is probably the dumbest fight you've ever had.

Imogen doesn’t respond to this, advised by your mother no to and to just let you stomp up the stairs in a furious rage. You make a beeline straight to your desktop, waking up the computer with a shake of the mouse and entering your password.

Facebook is already open once you’ve signed in, Heeseung’s page staring right back at you. You’re ashamed to admit you’d been cyber stalking him, but you really didn’t have any other choice. Seeing him in person would’ve been too much, but you still want to make sure he’s doing okay.

There’s a new post up when you refresh the page, you chew on your bottom lip as you anxiously wait for it to finish loading.

It’s a picture of his dirty Chuck Taylor’s perched upon a wooden stool. You recognize the background immediately, he’s in the treehouse in his backyard. You and Chaeryeong would spend hours up there as kids, giving each other manicures and exchanging secrets; now you can barely look her in the eye without bursting out in tears. You hate how complicated things have become.

There’s a light tap against your door that has you swiveling around in your chair. It’s Imogen, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed. “Who’s that?”

“Chaeryeong’s brother.” You respond, scrolling to a photo that actually shows his face.

Imogen steps further into your bedroom, squinting her eyes at the computer screen. “Oh, yeah. Hasn’t changed much, has he?” When you remain silent, she asks, “Would it be wrong of me to assume he’s the real reason why you’re so upset?”

You sigh, letting your shoulders drop. “You’d be very correct, actually.”

She nods in understanding, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. “So, what’s going on? You like him?”

“We kind of like each other, I guess.” You mumble. To be honest, you’re not quite sure how Heeseung feels about you right now.

“And Chaeryeong doesn’t approve of it?”

You snort, “Chaeryeong doesn’t know. There was nothing to tell her at first, but things have changed.”

“Are you guys dating?”

“No. We actually haven’t talked in a week. I may have hurt his feelings.”

Imogen nods towards your desktop, “Where is he now?”

You shrug, “Home, I guess.”

She stands, stretching out her limbs. She glances around your room, locates a jacket dangling lifelessly from your doorknob, and tosses it to you. “Let’s go.”

Taking an impromptu trip to the Lee household had you sweating. What if Heeseung doesn’t even want to see you? What if Chaeryeong catches you talking and asks what’s going on?

Each concern you raise is instantly shot down by Imogen, claiming you’re creating excuses to avoid seeing him, how you’re only imagining the worst possible scenarios. You appreciate her overwhelming support but can’t help the nervousness creeping through your body as her car approaches the Lee household.

“Remember, be apologetic but not desperate,” Imogen informs you, putting her car in park in front of the house.

“I am desperate.” You remind her.

“Well, don’t let him see it. You got this.”

You thank your sister one last time for the advice before stepping out of her car. You’re careful to avoid being seen from windows as you make your way into the backyard; not entirely sure what you’d say if Chaeryeong were to catch you.

You scale the tree quickly, silently praying the old wooden steps are stable enough to hold your weight.

You sigh in relief once you’ve reached the top, only to groan at the sight of Scarlett sitting across from you. She looks up from her iPod with a bright smile, quickly pulling out her earbuds as you enter the treehouse. “Hey, stranger! Watcha doing here?”

Her enthusiasm really makes you sick. “Came to see Heeseung,” you pause to glance around the tiny, wooden deathtrap, “but he’s nowhere to be found.”

“He’ll be back soon; went to use the bathroom,” Scarlett informs you, running her hands through her hair. “So, you guys really like each other, huh?”

What? She knows about that?

“Heeseung told you?” You question, trying your best to appear unbothered. You’re unsure where she’s going with this, but you have no reason to trust her.

Scarlett nods, “We tell each other everything. So when he told me you guys weren’t talking, I may have devised a plan to help you come around. You do use Facebook, right?” She smirks

Holy shit, all the posts of them together were to make you feel jealous enough to have a conversation with him; and your sworn enemy was the mastermind behind it. It was all a ploy to get under your skin, and you fell right into the trap.

“You’re a stubborn little thing, though. Didn’t think it’d take you so long.” She comments, slipping her jacket on.

You shrug, “I didn’t think he’d want to talk to me.”

“Heeseung always wants to talk to you. I don’t mind it, though. You seem good for him.”

Aside from Chaeryeong, Scarlett is probably the last person you would’ve expected to be supportive of your relationship with Heeseung. So, to hear she’d been secretly rooting for you behind the scenes nearly gives you whiplash. You almost feel wrong about your dreams of shoving her face into the pavement.

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “So, nothing is going on between you guys?”

Scarlett grimaces as if you deeply offended her, “Of course not! Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute, but not my type. His sister is cute, though.”

Woah.

“Chaeryeong? Lee Chaeryeong? You’re into her?” You ask, completely stunned.

“Hell yes. Hey, do you think you could set us up? Heeseung would never.”

“You do know that Chaeryeong can’t stand you, right?”

Scarlett excitedly nods, “I know, it’s kind of a turn-on.”

You hold your hands out to stop her from elaborating any further. Scarlett has surprised you in more ways than one in less than five minutes. You’re sure any new information would’ve made your head explode.

“I’ll…try my best.” You promise; not quite sure how Chaeryeong would feel about the idea of Scarlett liking her.

“For what?” A voice interrupts, causing you and Scarlett to direct your attention to the treehouse’s entrance. And there he is, in all his gothic glory.

“Girl talk, none of your business,” Scarlett responds, making room for Heeseung to crawl in.

“Fine. You keep your secrets; I’ll keep mine.” Heeseung groans, sitting between the two of you.

“Will do. I’m outta here. Got a hot date with a box of hair dye. See you suckers later.” Scarlett waves goodbye as she exits the treehouse, reminding you of your promise before disappearing down the steps.

Heeseung clears his throat, sweeping his hair away from his eyes. "So—"

"I'm sorry," you cut him off, "I should've reached out and talked to you, but I was just too embarrassed and didn't know how to approach you about it. I really like you, and I wasn't using you to lose my virginity. I mean, you're the only person I've ever been interested in. So, again, I'm sorry."

He sighs, "I understand why you were embarrassed, but I promise it had nothing to do with you."

"Then what was it?"

Heeseung anxiously scratches the back of his head before he responds. "It's just that…sometimes…it takes me a little bit longer to, uh…to finish."

Oh.

"Is it because of your…size?" You can't help but wonder.

Heeseung snorts, "What, you think I'm big?"

"I'm out of here." You joke, faking as if you're about to leave.

"Wait, wait, wait." He stops you, "I was only kidding. I never really thought size played a factor in it, but every guy is different. But, still, that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy us having sex. I mean, you had already finished, and I didn't want to tire you out just for my sake."

Knowing he had a perfectly reasonable explanation makes you feel even worse about spending all that time avoiding him. You want to tell him you wouldn't mind him tiring you out, that the idea excites you, but you refrain.

A beat of silence passes, and you ask, "But, I'm sure if there's something that you're really into, then it wouldn't take as long for you to finish. Right?"

Heeseung nods, "I guess."

"Then, what is it? What are you into?"

He coughs, tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. "Um…I guess I'm into…roughness?"

Ah.

"That's not a big deal. A lot of people are probably into that."

"I mean, it's fine either way, but I mostly prefer when girls are kinda rough with me. Fuck, this is embarrassing."

"It's not!" You reassure him, placing a gentle hand on his knee, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me."

Heeseung stares at your hand on his knee before placing his own on top. You twist yours upwards and interlock your fingers, not missing the smile that forms on his face. His bangs have swept into his eyes again, and you use your free hand to move them out of the way. "It was my first time, too, by the way."

You snort, "You don't need to say that just to make me feel better."

"I'm serious," he continues, "I mean, I've gotten pretty handsy in the past, but nothing like what we did."

You shake your head, "I don't buy it. You seemed so experienced like you knew what you were doing."

Heeseung shrugs, "I mean, I'm not completely innocent. I may occasionally watch certain videos and read certain stories from time to time."

Porn and smut. Beautiful combination.

He shakes his head, "You still don't believe me; how come?"

You sigh, memories of the night before he left for college flashing in your mind. How you ran home in tears, how he only responded to Scar's comment on Chaeryeong's Facebook post. It almost hurts to think about. "The night before you left for school, there was an opened condom wrapper on your floor. I just figured…you know."

Heeseung nods at the memory. "I wasn't gonna go to the dorms the next day. I was planning on running away, that's why I gave you that bandana. After my parents helped bring my stuff to the dorms, I was gonna put everything in my car then take off."

You're having a hard time processing this information. Why would Heeseung plan on running away? What does this story have to do with the empty condom?

He continues, clutching your hand even tighter. "I only told a few people I was leaving, and there was this one girl who came over to say goodbye. She'd been really into me for a while and was heartbroken that I was leaving. We were about to hook up, hence the condom wrapper, but I couldn't do it."

"Why?" You question.

"Didn't feel right. I wasn't into her the same way she was into me. Just couldn't do it." He explains, eyes staring deep into yours. You believe him; you know he's being truthful.

"What made you decide to stay?" You ask.

"For Chaeryeong," he answers, "I couldn't just leave her like that. And for you, too."

Though you've felt it for many years, telling Heeseung you love him is too soon. But you want to, so very badly.

"I'm glad you decided to stay." Your voice is barely a whisper now as you try to stop yourself from tearing up.

He nods, "Me too."

You sit in comfortable silence for a minute, clutching each other's hands. You wish you could stay like this forever.

"I just realized you never told me if there's anything you're into." He points out.

You shrug, "Just you." And it's true: Heeseung is the only person you've ever been interested in. Everything he says and does is genuinely attractive to you.

He drops your hand gently, using it to tilt your head towards him, and he kisses you.

You're quick to cradle the back of his head as his hands snake around your waist, deepening the kiss. You move to straddle his lap, slowly pushing him onto his back. He grunts in surprise, breaking away from the kiss. "You—"

"Stop talking." You demand before your lips intertwine with his once again. With one hand on his chest, you reach to grab a fistful of his hair and tug lightly, earning a satisfied moan from him. You're not used to being rough with guys, but you're sure Heeseung enjoys it with the way his erection is pressing up against your thigh.

Reluctantly, you pull away from him and sit up, staring at him sprawled underneath you in complete awe. "Alright, I'll message you my number so we can text. See you later."

"No! No, no, no. Please don't go." He pleads, holding you in place when you go to stand, "Just stay a little longer, please."

You smile down at him, fighting the urge to stay in the treehouse. "I can't. Imogen is waiting out front. We'll see each other soon, okay?" You promise, planting a kiss on his forehead.

Heeseung nods, drumming against the floor as he watches you crawl out of the treehouse. "Don't be too surprised if I seem extra excited to see you next time." He calls after you.

"Trust me, I won't."

———

Heeseung is the first boy to ever sneak in through your bedroom window.

He carelessly tosses his backpack in first, cringing when it lands on your carpeted floor with a loud thud. Though you’ve assured him your parents are heavy sleepers, he’s still worried you’ll get in trouble if he makes too much noise and accidentally reveals himself. “Sorry,” he apologizes, hand gripping your forearm as you help pull him in.

“It’s fine,” you whisper back, “they’re not gonna wake up.”

“Still,” he grunts, using his upper body strength to pull him further into your room. “Don’t want you getting in trouble.”

It’s a day after the treehouse incident; as promised, you sent Heeseung your number and spent all day texting back and forth. Despite not being big on texting, you admire how Heeseung likes to keep you updated on what he’s doing and how he checks up on you to ensure you’re okay.

“We’ll be fine, but just in case, I did make room for you in my closet in case you have to hide.” You inform him.

Heeseung stifles a laugh, “Good to know.” He settles himself on the edge of your bed, moving over once he realizes he’d sat on a pile of clothing. “Oh, were you about to shower?”

“I was,” you answer, moving the clothing over to your nightstand, “but I’ll wait until after you leave.”

He has to stop himself from making a joke about joining you in the shower. He nods, leaning down to drag his backpack towards him, “Guess what I got today.”

“What?” You question, legs folded underneath your body as you sit beside him.

Heeseung slowly unzips his backpack, careful not to make too much noise before rummaging through it and clutching something in his hand. He momentarily turns his back towards you, clips something to his shirt, then turns back around.

There’s a name tag on his chest now with his name scribbled in black ink and a little star next to it. “A job?”

He nods, “At that music store, Spin City. Need to start saving up before classes start. Plus, I wanna take you out somewhere nice before summer’s over.”

You gulp, “Like, a date?”

“Yeah. I mean, unless… I don’t know. I just kinda figured…” He trails off, suddenly worried he may be scaring you off.

You grab ahold of his hand, “I know, and trust me, you’re perfect, and I want us to be together. But, the night we saw you at that party, I did ask Chaeryeong if she would be upset if I was into you. Surprisingly, she said she wouldn’t mind as long as I talked to her before making a move on you. And, well…”

“We made a move on each other without telling her,” Heeseung finishes for you.

You nod, “Exactly.”

He sighs, “So, I’m guessing that means you wanna wait before we make things official.”

“Yeah. No matter what, I still want to be with you. But it’d be best for all of us to get her on board with this first. Show her how much we truly care for each other, and make sure she’s okay with it. So she knows my relationship with you won’t affect our friendship, and vice versa.” You explain. Heeseung’s eyes never stray from yours, listening intently and nodding at everything you say.

“That’s fair,” he agrees, “It’s a good idea. Do you want me to talk to her? Or for us to talk to her together?”

You shake your head, “She’ll definitely freak out on you; it’s best if I do it alone first, then you talk to her afterward.”

Heeseung leans back against your bed, resting his head on your pillow. It’s funny how different your aesthetics are; he looks perfectly out of place, sprawled on your baby pink pillow surrounded by teddy bears. “When?”

“I dunno,” you respond, lowering yourself until your head rests comfortably on his bicep. “Doesn’t have to be right away. As long as it’s before we move into the dorms.”

“We shouldn’t wait too long, though. It’ll only make things worse.” Heeseung mumbles, pulling you closer to him.

“I know. I’ll have a talk with her soon, I promise.”

You interlock pinkies to solidify your promise and ease his nerves. You hadn’t realized how anxiety-inducing this was for Heeseung as well. The idea of Chaeryeong not approving of your relationship had him genuinely worried.

“But, you should know that no matter what—” he starts.

You cut him off, “I know.”

———

The hands that once purposely dumped slime in your hair are now tugging your panties down your legs.

“Can we try something?” Heeseung asks with a mumble against your lips, your soft blue underwear now clutched in the palm of his hand.

“Like what? I actually make you come for once?” You joke, earning a laugh from Heeseung.

“Don’t worry about me.” He presses another kiss against your lips, “You trust me?”

“Of course.” You respond, sitting up in Heeseung’s bed as he moves backward, never breaking eye contact with you. He pushes your skirt up slightly but pats your hand away when you go to remove it altogether.

“Leave it on.” He commands, bringing himself at face level with your cunt.

You’ve never felt this shy in your life, grateful your bunched-up skirt created the tiniest barrier between having Heeseung see you all flustered. Never had you been this intimate with a guy, especially not a guy you technically weren’t even dating.

His thumb is circling your clit before you have the time to protest, to tell him he doesn’t have to do this just for your sake, but the feeling of his fingers pressed against you has you at a loss for words.

“This okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You respond, tilting your head upwards to stare at the ceiling.

Before you know it, his middle and index fingers are pressed against your opening, eliciting a gasp from your lips. At your reaction, Heeseung slips his finger into your entrance, thumb still playing with your clit. He insists on being teasingly slow today, wanting to draw out every moment and observe your reaction.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you in a slow, consistent motion, an amused smirk on his lips when he hears your breathing become ragged. Abruptly, he slips his fingers out of you, moving your thighs to rest them atop his shoulders.

“Wait, you don’t have to—oh fuck.” You’re cut off by Heeseung pushing himself forward, placing a sudden kiss on your clit that has your hips jolting in the air. His hand grabs your waist and licks at your slit, keeping you in place as he gently returns your body to his mattress.

His growing erection is the last of his worries, all too focused on dragging his tongue across your cunt. He flattens his tongue, pulling the wetness upward until he’s circling your clit again. In search of something to grab onto, your hands grip the bed sheets until Heeseung reaches forward, moving your hand over to grip his hair.

His eyes are closed when you look down at him, and you swear you can hear him moan as he eats you out. You try your best to keep the noise down out of fear someone will hear, but you can’t help but yell out when he’s back to fingering you, all while circling your clit with his tongue.

Your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face further into your pussy, and he lets out a satisfied groan. It’s embarrassing how quickly your orgasm approaches; everything with Heeseung is so intense. He knows this, eyes fluttering open to watch your expressions. Black eyeshadow is smeared across his eyelids as his eyes focus on your own, hands gripping your thighs as he tongue circles your clit.

His fingers are relentlessly pumping into your cunt now, contrasting against how teasingly slow his tongue is moving. He pulls his mouth away, lips glistening with your arousal, and asks, “You close?”

You don’t respond directly, but the grip you have on his hair gives him all the answers he needs before he’s diving back in. It doesn’t take much for you to come after that, a final kiss pressed on your clit, sending you over the edge and coating Heeseung’s fingers.

Heeseung doesn’t stop there, still continuing to lick and suck your clit until you’re begging him to stop from the overstimulation.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “Was that good?”

“That was literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You respond. Heeseung lets out a laugh as he crawls up next to you. “I should be upset with you, though.”

“What?” He questions, peppering your face with kisses, “Why’s that?”

“I came over to talk to your sister about us, and you distracted me.”

“How’d I do that?”

“Because! You came downstairs in your eyeshadow. Then you were all like, ‘Oh, hey. I cleaned my room; wanna check it out?’” You mimic a deep voice that sounds nothing like his.

“I apologize for putting on eyeshadow, bringing you to my room, and eating you out. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“I guess.”

You both laugh at this as you move to pull your skirt down. “Hey, how’d you realize you like it when girls are rough with you?”

Heeseung shakes his head as the memory returns to him, a shy smile on his face as he glances over at you. “A little while ago, I was picking on Chaeryeong for something. I don’t even remember why, but it got to the point where my parents were telling me to stop, and I wouldn’t. Then, you just started yelling at me out of nowhere, and I don’t know why, but it was the hottest thing ever. I was in awe. I really thought you were gonna slap me. Since then, it’s just been a turn-on of mine.”

“Wow. That’s actually kind of pathetic.” You tease.

He groans, “Please don’t say that. You’re gonna make me hard again.”

Laughter is shared between you once again before you lean your head down to rest on his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat making you feel calm. A comfortable minute of silence passes before you have to address the unfortunate inevitable, “Chaeryeong should be here soon, right?”

“Yeah,” Heeseung mumbles, “within the next ten minutes.”

You sigh, “Next time I come over, I’ll have to tell her about us.”

———

The next time you stop by the Lee household, Heeseung has you bent over in the backseat of his car.

His finger digs into your waist as his cock is plunging into you at full force, emptying all the thoughts from your brain. You still haven’t fully adjusted to his size, but you don’t care; the pain of being split open makes you come faster. It feels better.

Heeseung insisted on taking things slow, telling you that you’d need to adjust to his size, but the moment you sunk your dripping cunt onto him, he was under your spell.

Your body lunges forward with every rough stroke Heeseung gives you, hands buried in your hair as he pulls you up against his chest. His hand moves from your hair down to your neck, tilting your head back while applying the slightest bit of pressure against your throat. Your eyes close out of instinct as tears form in the corner of your eyes before trickling down your cheeks. He kisses them away one by one before settling his lips on your neck. You make a mental note to check yourself for hickeys afterward.

You’re coming around him before you realize it, body spasming as you grip the driver’s seat headrest. Heeseung shows no signs of stopping or slowing down; in fact, he’s sped up even faster since fucking you through your orgasm. He lets go of your neck to push down on your back, left hand gripping your waist while the right intertwines your fingers with his.

A few strokes later, he’s finally coming and jokes about showing you the used condom as confirmation.

You shake your head, gesturing for him to pass you the shorts he’d tossed in the front seat. “I can’t believe I let you trick me again.”

“What?!” He exclaims in utter shock, reaching in the front seat to grab your discarded clothing, “How exactly did I trick you?”

“I came over to talk to Chaeryeong, but then you were all like, ‘Hey, come look at my car; I just got it washed.’” You playfully roll your eyes, searching around the backseat for your underwear.

“Can I keep these?” He asks suddenly, the most nonchalant expression on his face as your panties dangle from his middle finger.

You scoff, reaching to snatch them from him, confused when he retracts his hand. “I think I will keep them until you talk to Chaeryeong. Since it was you who wanted to talk to her first.”

“Then, I guess I’ll get them back tomorrow because I’m definitely talking to her today.”

Except you don’t.

You spent the entire summer sneaking around with Heeseung and procrastinating about having that talk with Chaeryeong. It was anxiety-inducing, to say the least, and you had no idea how she’d react. You tell yourself she won’t be upset as long as you assure her your friendship won’t be affected by you dating her brother.

You’re scheduled to move into the dorms within a few weeks, so it’s best to sort things out now before you all live under the same roof, unable to avoid one another. Heeseung doesn’t seem nervous at all. In fact, he’d given you a pep-talk the day before you showed up at their home.

“She can’t stay mad forever.” He pointed out, eyes sealed shut as you do his eyeliner.

“I know,” you mumbled, adjusting yourself on his lap, “but that girl can hold a grudge.”

“Right, but this is you we’re talking about. You mean a lot to her, to both of us, actually.”

His words play in your mind as you enter the Lee household, following Chaeryeong into the kitchen. “Baking something?” You ask, a sweet, decadent scent hitting your nose.

“Brownies for some stupid bake sale my parents are having. Help me clean up?” She asks, pouting her lips at you.

“Sure.” You agree, under the assumption that there wouldn’t be much to even clean up.

Boy, you were wrong. It’s like Chaeryeong used every dish in the house to make one sheet of brownies. There’s no backing out now; you already agreed to help, and it’d be best to stay on her good side for now.

She gets to work rinsing each dish before handing them to you to load the dishwasher, moving quickly to get everything done faster.

“What a beautiful friendship.” A familiar voice comments; you fight back a smile as Chaeryeong groans at her brother.

“You wouldn’t know; you don’t have any friends,” Chaeryeong responds, laughing at her words.

“Neither will you, soon,” Heeseung whispers back, groaning when you swat him in the chest. “Any brownie batter left?”

“None for you. Shouldn’t you be at work?” Chaeryeong asks, handing you another dish.

Chaeryeong takes a break from rinsing off the dishes to bicker with Heeseung for a minute. You tune out from the conversation, dipping your fingers into the leftover batter bowl and gathering the chocolate on your fingers.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Heeseung says. When Chaeryeong finally directs her attention elsewhere, Heeseung takes the opportunity to grab your wrist, bringing your fingers up to his lips before sucking the chocolate off them.

Your eyes practically bulge out of your head, nervously glancing behind you to ensure Chaeryeong hadn’t seen anything. You swat at Heeseung’s chest for the second time, and he laughs as if you’re being overly dramatic. It’s odd how surprisingly calm he is about everything. His demeanor would have worried you if you didn’t trust him so much.

Heeseung wipes the renaming bit of chocolate around his lips before mouthing ‘Good luck.’ You give him a nervous smile, watching as he slips past Chaeryeong and leaves out the front door. You get back to work, making small talk with Chaeryeong as you help her load the dishwasher.

It’s now or never.

“So,” you start, “we’re gonna be living together soon.”

Chaeryeong smiles, “Finally! God, I can’t wait to have some freedom. My stupid curfew is a major cock-block. Right when things are finally getting good on a date, I have to go back home. So fucking frustrating. There’s literally cobwebs in my vagina.”

You snort, loading the final dish into the washer. “Well, you won’t have that problem anymore.”

“I know. And maybe you’ll even find someone worthy even to date you.” Chaeryeong jokes, hopping on the kitchen counter.

“Uh, what if I already have found someone…worthy enough?” You question, pressing a few buttons to get the dishwasher going.

“As if.”

“Chaeryeong, I’m serious.”

She sighs, still not buying your confession. “Alright then, who is it?”

“...Your brother.”

A beat of silence passes, and then Chaeryeong doubles over in laughter, nearly slipping off the counter several times in a matter of seconds. It takes her a minute to catch her breath, clutching her collar for support as she regulates her breathing; even tears are forming in her eyes. “Holy fuck, can you imagine? You and my brother? Jesus Christ.”

“Look, there isn’t an easy way to say this, but we really do like each other. We’ve been…together this whole summer. Well, not officially; I didn’t want to put a label on anything without talking to you about it first.” You finally confess. The weight on your shoulders doesn’t immediately drop as you expected; it’s like the load has gotten heavier.

Chaeryeong has a blank expression as she stares at you, eyes darting around the kitchen as she processes the information. “You’re serious?”

You nod.

She shakes her head, eyes closed as she asks,“What kind of friend are you? You’re that desperate for a boyfriend you go after the only boy you know? My brother?”

Fuck.

“Chaeryeong, please, let me—”

She cuts you off, hopping off the counter and inching towards you. “So, what? All this time, you were using me to get close to Heeseung? Out of every fucking guy on the planet? Ones that have spent years throwing themself at you?”

“No! Of course not! Chaeryeong, I never even imagined myself in a relationship with him until this summer, I swear!” Your voice trembles as Chaeryeong approaches you.

“Oh, really? You expect me to believe that, huh? So it’s just a coincidence that you guys suddenly got together right before we’re all gonna be living in the same building?”

“I know it doesn’t sound great, but—”

“I think you should go.” Chaeryeong cuts you off calmly, her sudden change in demeanor shocking you. A moment ago, she looked angry enough to hit you, but now, she seems a few seconds away from breaking down in tears.

You nod understandably, telling Chaeryeong to take all the time she needs and to call you when she’s ready to talk.

She doesn’t say a word as you exit her house, and you wonder if you’ve just lost the best friend you’ve ever had.

———

“I’ve never seen her this angry, Heeseung. I thought she was gonna hit me or something.” You groan, ear pressed up against your phone as you rant to Heeseung.

It's been a few hours since you left Chaeryeong’s house; Heeseung had promised to call you during his break to hear how the conversation went. You’re still shaking as the memories flood back to you, how your best friend in the world accused you of using her. What a fucking joke.

“She’ll get over it, trust me. Y’know, before I called you, she spent five minutes yelling at me over the phone. Five fucking minutes, and I just took it. She’ll be fine.” He says, following up with a loud slurping noise that suggests Heeseung has chosen to have ramen for lunch.

It’s astonishing how calm he’s managed to stay this entire time.

You flip over on the couch, head resting on the armrest as you stare at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna lose her. She’s a fireball, for sure, but she’s my fireball. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“I just told you you’re not gonna be without her, okay?”

“...Okay.”

There’s a knock at your front door, most likely from the pizza delivery Heeseung had sent to your house.

“I gotta go. The food is here. Are you still stopping by after your shift?”

“Of course. You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” you stand, making your way to the front door. “I’ll save you some pizza.”

He chuckles at that, “You better. I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

He what?

“You what?” You pause, hand on the doorknob.

“I love you, and I’ll see you later.” He hangs up.

You don’t have time to process his words; the knocking at your front door happens again.

Twisting the knob, you’re met with Chaeryeong staring back at you. “Chaeryeong? What’re you—”

“I don’t care if you date Heeseung.” She claims, storming through your front door, “If you guys want to be together, then I’m not standing in the way. But I will not be your friend if you date him, so it’s either him or me.”

You follow Chaeryeong into your living room, your pulse quickening upon hearing her ultimatum. “Chaeryeong, that’s not—”

“Before you choose…as a girl, and as your friend, I have to be completely honest with you.” She sighs, fingers nervously raking through her hair as she sits on your couch. “I called Heeseung after you left, and he talked to me about you guys.”

You nod, taking a seat next to her. “Okay, and…?”

She sighs again, taking your hand in her own. “Everything he’s ever told you was a lie.”

[helenazbmrskai]

Road Fix [Lee Know: SKZ]

Pairing (Minho x Reader)

Genre (Mechanic AU, Smut, Small Town, Strangers To Lovers)

Summary (Your car breaks down in the middle of the road but thankfully there’s a handsome stranger to fix it for you. Giving him a ride to town you find yourself not wanting to just let him go.)

Rating (+18)

Word Count (5k)

Warnings (Sexual content, hitch-hike, dirty and oily Minho)

A/N: Cinema inspired me to write this, we all need some dirty mechanic Minho who fixes shit before he fixes you!

Stranded on 51st Street is not how you imagined your morning to go. With no signal and your car broken down, it looks like a ghost road that not many choose to pass by. You have two options either you wait in your car and hope that someone comes to help you or you abandon your car and start walking. Neither of those ideas appears to be life insurance as you can picture a dozen of scenarios that can go wrong.

You have grown up watching Criminal Minds so of course in this situation you can't help but think about the worst that can happen.

Before you can actually decide what to do there's movement on the road but it's not a car like you expected. It's a single silhouette, a man walking towards you with a backpack slung over his shoulder. His body grows bigger on the horizon as he gets closer but not that much as his form is not threatening the least as he has a lean body and slim build. His clothes are dirty and his hair is unkempt but even underneath those layers, you can see how handsome the stranger is.

"Do you need help?" He has an accent when he speaks.

You mentally debate if you should accept his help but in the end, you sigh and start explaining your situation. There's no guarantee that anyone else will come down this road and going alone to find a gas station is not a good idea.

"My car just broke down I don't know what's wrong." The guy listens to you, watching you from under his bangs. Thankful for his gesture to stop a few feet away not getting too close to your comfort zone.

"I can help you I'm a mechanic. If you want I can take a look." Relief floods over you at his friendly questions. He's not pressing or ordering you he's simply asking. Taking a look can’t hurt.

"Yes, please, and thank you." His kindness elicits a real smile, which he mirrors with a smaller one.

"No problem." He dismisses your gratitude as he makes his way over to the hood of your car. He opens it with ease, one hand on the car and the other looking around at the electronics. His nose crunches in concentration.

"I can fix it." You let out a relieved sigh when you hear it. He gets a few tools out of his bag and resumes his work. You hear clinking and twisting sounds occasionally as he works.

"All good. Try to ignite and see if it works." You get behind the wheels and squeal in happiness when the engine roars to life again.

"Thank you so much, you just saved my life!" You roll down your window to thank him repeatedly and he just shakes his head with a tiny smile playing on his lips.

"Happy to help. Get home save." The stranger nods as goodbye and starts walking again. You contemplate if you should just drive and leave him to walk but it's a long road and after he helped you you didn't get any creepy vibes from him and you will think about him all day if you don't help him out worrying if he's still walking. What if he gets kidnapped? You can’t leave him here.

"I'm going into town, if you want I can give you a lift as a thank you." You yell after him before he can get too far. The guy looks surprised but his feature morph into a polite smile.

"Are you sure?" He asks unsure if he should accept or not.

"I swear I'm not a serial killer and if you promise not to kill me either I don't see why we can't just ride together." Half serious and only half joking but the beautiful stranger finds the situation just as hilarious as you.

"Okay, thank you, and I'm not a serial killer so rest assured." You wait for him to get into the passenger seat before you start the car again.

"Honestly, if I were a serial killer this is what I would say to my victims."

He takes your humour with a stride as he laughs at your antics.

"Well, stranger can I get your name if you won't murder me?" You turn on the radio to a low volume so it can be a good background sound.

"Minho." His chuckle is angelic and despite the strange situation, you don't feel like you're in danger. Even though you know that charisma can be a bad sign but what can you do when you find him so attractive that you would let him abduct you? Well, technically you’re the one taking him away.

"I'm Y/N. Right, there are wipes in the compartment your hands must be dirty from my car." You offer and he hesitates looking down at his hands.

"Sorry for dirtying your car. I've been on the road for a while." You don't dare to ask how many hours he was walking all by himself before you met him. You might have been cautious with him but in his shoes, you would think about it twice to hop into a stranger's car. So you guys basically put your thrusts into each other.

"Don't worry about it. Just get cleaned up." Minho nods and reaches for the wipes you mentioned. First cleans his hands and then his face.

The silence is comfortable with the radio occasionally breaking the stillness.

You want to talk more but are unsure if you can ask him more questions since you're strangers but you're so curious about where's he heading or if he has a place to stay for the night. You wouldn't be able to just get up one day pack a bag and just get on the road after the first minute you would be panicking and thinking about where you will be sleeping, what will you eat what if something bad happens to you.

"You should be more careful. If you want to go somewhere just get a taxi walking alongside the road is dangerous." You can't help but voice your concerns.

"I-" Minho hesitates before his answer. "I don't have the money for that." He looks embarrassed to admit it.

"Where are you even going without money? That's very dangerous Minho." You know you shouldn't scold him but you can't help but get worked up at how irresponsibe it sounds.

"You wouldn't understand." Your hands tighten around the steering wheel hearing his hard tone. He has the right to be angry, you shouldn't preach when you don't know about his circumstances.

You take a deep breath before speaking this time. "You're right, I'm sorry if it sounded like I'm scolding you. I'm just worried about what will you do after I drop you off even though we don't know each other. I overstepped. I- just, you seem like a nice person and I'm usually a worry wart."

No one speaks after that for a few minutes. Both of you are lost in your thoughts.

"I got a new job in town. I have a lot of debt so I had to sell my house and car. This was the only way for me." Minho looks out the window avoiding meeting your eyes due to embarrassment. Anyone would feel uncomfortable if they had to talk about being broke so you try to not show much reaction as you know his pride would probably take a hit if he could see that you're pitying him.

"At John's?" There's an auto shop repair down the street where you live it's like a ten-minute walk.

"Yeah, how did you know?" He looks surprised at how you guessed so easily.

"I swear I'm not your stalker. It's a small town so there's only one mechanic shop there, it wasn't much of a mystery." You joke to set a lighter mood.

"Oh. It makes sense." Minho hides his smile behind his hand but you can tell that your plan worked at the end.

The three-hour long drive felt so short with Minho next to you. After the heavy topic of his debt and journey you talked about mundane things but as you got to know him better you dreaded parting ways at the end of the road as you didn't want the time you spent together to come to an end.

You know this is a crazy idea and you're probably out of your mind but you had to ask before he leaves.

Even if it's a small town your interactions will be limited to saying hello and polite waves before both of you go on your way and for some reason, you hate that.

You don't want to remain as the nice girl who helped him once.

He's handsome so many girls will try to get his attention, you need to act before them if you want to get a chance.

"You can say no if you find it uncomfortable but I have a proposition." You start feeling nervous as the shop soon comes into view this is your only chance.

Minho picks up your nervous jitters his full attention on you.

"So, what I'm trying to say is if you don't have a place to stay at the moment you can become my roommate?" You wait for his answer while holding your breath. It’s normal, you had roommates who were strangers before you met them. You're never this bold but there's something about Minho that just draws you in. He appreciates your weird humour and it wasn't awkward to talk to him like you're with other guys. He's so attractive and nice with a sharp edge and playful teasing comments that you're ready to risk it all for him even if you're normally a very logical and cautious person.

"I- wow, that's nice of you but I can't afford it for now. I can't pay you rent." The fact that he's not rejecting you outright is what gives you the confidence to try and convince him a little more. If anything he looks flustered by your sudden offer.

"You can pay me back later once you get your paycheck and I'm not letting you live for free you will have to help me around the house and honestly you saved me today so I'm the one who's in your debt. But if you feel uncomfortable I totally understand. You can say no but I only accept if the reason is because you think I'm creepy or something." You laugh at the end feeling nervous as you keep bubbling nonsense.

"No, honestly that sounds perfect it's just you're too nice y/n. People will take advantage of you."

Your smile grows wider as he frowns. "Oh, are you worried about me? If you're so worried you can just keep an eye on me."

"Alright. I will." Minho shakes his head with a light-hearted smile, you won. He can't say no to you.

This is how two complete strangers started living together. From strangers to roommates and now as you spent more time together considered as friends you started to feel something more than friendship that gets harder for you to hide, life truly takes unexpected turns sometimes.

Honestly, it's frightening how nice it is to live with him.

Before you met Minho your life only consisted of getting home from College and then going to work at the cafe down the street, studying or watching something on the TV before you fell face down on your bed exhausted and asleep.

Now he waits for your shift to end to walk home together, cook together on the weekends and watch movies to relax. Even if you study he brews you a coffee and reminds you to take breaks.

Even when you fight for the remote or just exist together after a long day, you're thankful that Minho is next to you.

"Your boyfriend is here." You bite your lip as Clara keeps teasing you but she's right about Minho waiting for you by the door as you catch his reflection from outside waiting patiently. The cafe is already closed leaving the only two employees inside are you and your friend wiping down the tables.

"He's not my boyfriend." You jab her in the ribs but she's unfazed.

"But you wish he would be. Honestly, I don't get it why don't you just confess? He likes you too. Not even my boyfriend comes to pick me up every day after my shifts."

You want to believe her but there's something that keeps bothering you. What if it's just gratitude? You helped him when he needed it the most. Maybe he's just thankful and you misjudge his intentions.

"He's just a good friend." You like to play it safe even if you're torn between wanting to tell him. It's easier to think that he's just doing these things for you because he considers you a good friend.

"You're so hopeless. Now get out, I will finish here." Clara takes the rag from your hand shooing you to change out of your apron and go home.

You put away your work clothes and grab your things from the changing room before you meet Minho at the entrance. Once more thanking Clara before you go.

"Hi." You greet the handsome man in front of you cheerfully.

"Hi, how was your day?" His smile reaches his eyes as you appear. His hair is dishevelled so you impulsively reach out to tidy it up. His clothes are dirty with oil and grease but you're not concerned with that as you close the distance.

"Good." You reply focusing on your fingers carding through his hair.

"You will get dirty." He warns you. Minho tries to keep you at a distance his hands hover over your waist as he catches himself before he can soil your clothes with the remaining oil on his hands.

"It's fine. I'm almost done." You never really cared if he was dirty you know it comes with his job. You perfected the art of getting the spots out of his clothes so it's not a big hassle if you just put your clothes in with his in the washing machine.

"You're weird. Normally girls would hate getting dirt on them." Accepting your nonchalance with defeat he places his hand on your waist at last as you pat the stray stands down. Your white shirt now sporting two big handprints.

"I can always wash my clothes." You reply with a smile. Carding your fingers through his hair one last time before you deem your work is done.

You step back and Minho lets go of your waist as you start walking side by side to your apartment.

"You look tired. Long day?" Minho nods rolling his shoulder as he slows his pace to match yours.

"We had so many cars to fix today. My back and shoulder are killing me."

You listen as he tells you about his day even if the technical words are flying over your head. It's a short walk home but you're able to catch up with each other, you complain about rude customers or tell him about school.

Neither of you had the energy to cook once you arrived home so you decided to order takeout and talk over the food as the TV served as background music. This is what a usual afternoon looks like for the two of you, relaxing and talking.

The only difference in mood got palpable in the air when you offered to massage his shoulders and back to help with his pain. You're thankful that he's showing his back to you as you have a hard time controlling your expression when he takes off his t-shirt. You knew he was fit but not the six-pack kind of fit.

You massage the muscle relaxant gel into his shoulders, you can feel each twitch of his muscle under your fingers as you spread it over moving lower to treat his back with the same attention.

"Does it hurt?" Unsure if the pressure is alright you ask.

"No, it feels good. You could be a professional masseur."

You snort at his overreaction.

You carefully work your fingers over the knots in his back and shoulders, you don't stop until your hand starts to ache from the use. You wiped mugs and made coffees all day that your hand already hurt.

"Thank you." Minho turned around to give you a lazy smile. You must have looked like you were in pain because he held your hand and rubbed your fingers to relax your hold. Your eyes grew wide when he put two of your fingers into his mouth. You could feel his tongue running over the tips.

"Heat is good for when your joints ache." He gives you this explanation after he pops your digits out of his mouth.

You look away afraid that your blush will give your feelings away.

"You're gross." You try to appear unphased as you rub his saliva into your pants but fail miserably as Minho smirks.

"But you like it." He gives you a wink not leaving you room to react he gets up to clean the plates from the table.

Sometimes his flirty actions give you hope that he might consider you as someone more than just a friend.

Peaceful days are the new normal with occasional slightly charged moments when you think he might actually kiss you but in the end, it never happens.

The unresolved tension makes you agitated. You don't know how long you can play this push and pull before you break.

Seem like Minho has other plans. At work, you get a text from him. He forgot his lunch so you agree to get some pastries and coffee for him.

Once your lunch break rolls around you get the food and make your way to the workshop. One of his chatty colleagues tells you where you can find him and you do find him under a BMW.

"Delivery for Minho." You say in a singsong voice and shake the paper bag to get his attention. The metallic clunks under the car stop before he rolls back, his body sweaty and dirty.

"Finally. I was starving." His smile is bright as he gets up. He looks at you sheepishly holding up his dirty hands.

"Can you feed me? My hands are dirty and there's a bathroom repair right now so we don't have running water at the moment." The first thing that comes to your mind is: that God must be testing you.

"Alright." You gulp. Minho sits down as you get the food. You bought a chocolate croissant and some raspberry twists for him. Grabbing the croissant you place it in front of his mouth waiting for him to take the first bite.

The position is already making you conscious as you stand between his legs.

Minho holds your wrist his fingers leaving behind oil marks on your skin. "Hey, no touching." You pull away, inspecting the grease he left on you.

"You can just wash it off at work. Come on, I'm hungry. You said before that you don't mind if I'm dirty." He's pouting, making ridiculous grabby hands at you. You can never win against him.

"Alright, but you can't touch anywhere else." Minho nods guiding you by the wrist as he devours the food you brought.

"You're my saviour y/n." Minho grins when he's finally full. He thanks you between sips of the coffee you hold up for him.

"You owe me Lee Minho, I'm here on my precious break to feed you." You're joking with no real meaning behind your words but he pulls you closer by your wrist.

"How can I ever repay the favour?" It sounds seductive as his face is inches away from yours.

"You look like you have a few ideas in your single man mind." You don't know what possessed you to flirt back maybe you're going insane after the building tension. There's no way he can't feel it.

"Maybe." Minho grins. His lips trace the line of your neck, dragging down on your skin breathing in your scent without really touching. He's seizing up your reactions, the spike in your heartbeat or the hitch in your breath when he finds your pulse point and latches on it.

"No marks I still have four hours before my shift ends." You warn him when you feel his teeth on your skin.

"Yes, ma'am." His smirk is pressed into your neck.

This time his tongue playfully peaks out wetting your skin, you jump at the wet sensation the hand that encloses your wrist tightens ever so slightly as a warning to stop squirming.

"Since my hands are dirty I can only use my mouth I hope you don't mind." You roll your eyes at how cheeky he is. As if he can sense it he bites down on your ear, making you yelp at the sudden pain.

"Stop playing or I will leave you here." You press your fingers into his shoulders, getting fed up with his antics.

"When will your break end?" He asks between kisses.

You look down at your watch with half-lidded eyes. "M-maybe 20 minutes. Why?"

"I can work with that." He nods playfully nipping at your neck.

"What do you mean?" It's hard to concentrate on the conversation with his lips all over your jaw and neck.

"I'm positive I can make you cum in ten minutes."

"Confident are we?" You scoff.

"Should I take that as a challenge?" This is not how you expected his competitive side to arise and it shouldn't be as hot as it is.

"You can't be serious. You're in the middle of work." You make a circle with your hands showing him around that you're standing in the middle of his workplace if he didn't notice.

"No one comes in anyway, if you can be quiet no one will ever know." Minho nips at the rim of your jeans with his teeth, laughing when you gasp in terror.

You push his head back but not before he can plant a kiss on the skin showing below your crop top.

"If you keep thinking about it we will have less time." He doesn't fight you pushing his head away as if he's trying to show you that he won't do anything that you don't want. If you say no you're sure he will back down but the painful part is that you don't want him to stop despite this risky action can cost both your jobs.

"How are you even going to do it? Your hands are filthy." Minho smiles showing you his white teeth awfully confident in himself.

"My mouth is enough, you don't need to worry." His shit-eating confidence is a turn-on and an annoyance at the same time.

"Fine but I'm not sure if you can make me cum in ten." You look behind you at the door making sure that it's closed and you sigh when you see it is.

"Relax." Minho dips his head down to kiss your lower stomach, pulling at the button with his teeth to free you.

You help him with sliding your jeans down your thighs but stops you when you try to pull your panties down and realise why he stopped you. He wanted to drag it down with his teeth, his breath brushing over your legs as he pulled it lower until you could step out of it.

You hang your clothes on the back of the chair so they won't get dirty. Urging you to take your place you sit down and obediently put your leg over his shoulder exposing yourself to the cold air.

Minho's eyes lock on your glistening folds his jaw tenses as he gulps. His hands are locked in a fist behind him to avoid the temptation to touch you.

"Fuck, you're so pretty." You blush at his evident desire to devour you. His arms flex as he tries hard to not touch you, you can feel the muscles in his back dance with the effort and when he moves your leg bends with it, making your stance wider for him.

"Wish I could touch how wet you are." You're getting more turned on by his dirty talk than embarrassed by how he keeps staring at you from his position on his knees. It feels like he's about to worship you and kiss the ground you walk on.

"Yeah? You're all talk and no action so far. The clock is ticking." Your smile is devilish, and your teasing is all he needs to finally part your folds with his tongue and taste you with a long lick.

"Set the timer, baby, because you're gonna cum in five." Minho licks his lips, looking into your eyes as he buries his face back into your cunt. His tongue flicks over your bud repeatedly, getting your thighs to close on his head but he's not fazed as he continues his exploration. His pink tongue runs up and down your folds.

The speed at which he moves is insane and it doesn't help that he occasionally switches to sucking and slruping.

You need to bite your lip hard so that you can keep your noise down. Minho watches you fight to stay still as his hands are still behind his back keeping his word of not touching you with dirty hands however you're past the point where you would care if he got you dirty or not.

The one thing that's hotter than his harsh breathing against your folds is the tongue that pokes your entrance with each descent. Expertly flattening his tongue for long licks and switching it up at the top where he sucks your clit between his wet lips.

If the space gets smaller as he fights with your closing thighs he just pushes against you harder until your legs part on their own giving him the space to work his magic. You're not in the mindset to count down the minutes but he does work you up fast. His mouth hanging open he watches you from under his lashes studying where are the spots that make your toes curl and find them again and again.

It's not just you that has to be quiet as he moans his little grunts sending vibrations through you.

You're close, he can tell by the shaking of your leg on his shoulder and the fact that you let out small moans between your fingers a little louder than you would have liked. Now he's focusing solely on your swollen clit as he pushes you over the edge with his tongue flicking over in circles.

You grab his hair tightly as you cum the other firmly pressed into your mouth to silence your cries.

Minho helps you through the high with slow drags of his tongue, his throat bobbing as he drinks down your essence. His licks slow down but keep up the consistency.

His lips glisten as he pulls back his hair dishevelled and breathing hard but has that satisfied look in his eyes as he regards you sprawled on his chair.

"8 minutes. Might just be a new record." You check the clock and can't deny that he made you cum fast.

Minho distracts you with kisses, his lips touch every inch of your thighs that he can reach as you desperately try to catch your breath.

"I think my soul just left my body." Raking your hands through your messy locks you try to move your legs that by now become jelly. Minho laughs at how cute you are, your cheeks are tinted pink in embarrassment as you need to slip your panties up your legs and cover your still slick pussy.

"This was just an appetizer, you will learn soon how grateful I can be back at home." Minho leans down for a short peck. Your lips shape a shocked O as he pulls back.

"But before I get ahead of myself I have a condition first." His tone is unusually serious as he fidgets with his hands.

"I remember tomorrow is your day off so I hoped we could go to have dinner that day. I'm paying and if you're wondering- yes, I'm asking you out on a date."

You're so shocked that for a moment your mind shuts down.

"Really?"

You ask dumbly. You need a moment to process everything.

"Everyone in town already thinks we're dating. Fuck that, everyone knows how much I love you. Except for you, apparently."

"You love me?" You repeat him like a parrot.

These shocking revelations just come out of his mouth one by one that you have a hard time following.

"Yes. I love you." His confession spurs your frozen body to take action and attack him with a hug that the momentum pushes him back as you two collide.

"I love you too." Minho lets out a sigh of relief he started to think that maybe he misjudged you reciprocating his feelings.

He hugs you back without realising that this is how he soils your clothes.

"Your break is ending." He reminds you even if he doesn't want to let you go.

"Right. I need to go back to work." You will do something about the oil marks later if you're lucky the apron will hide it until your shift ends.

"I will pick you up later." Minho grins happy that you accepted his confession, leaving you with one more kiss.

You try to get yourself occupied but the hours seem to drag on as you wait for work to end. Clara can sense your sudden agitation not to speak about the marks she put two and two together.

"Your boyfriend is here." Minho only grins when he hears it and you don't correct her this time.

"It's okay if you close up Clara?" She rolls her eyes, duh, she's the one that always closes and today is nothing different.

"Get out you love birds."

"Thanks!" You yell back before you leave with Minho, your fingers intertwined as you walk side by side.

[demonic0angel]

Ma'am, I need more of Dan/Wraith in Arkham 😭 and maybe him managing to get out and meeting Dick again. Pretty please with strawberry cream on top 🥹🥹

(I’m lowkey surprised by how many people like this AU XD It got rather long lmao)

Part 1, part 2, part 4

Selina stared at the man that was sitting in her living room alongside her best friends. Harley was happily chattering his ear off, with Ivy interjecting now and then. The man, Wraith, patiently listened to Harley’s ranting, with only a little objecting whenever she went off-topic too much. He did not breathe and he rarely blinked, similar to a statue.

Or she supposed he was more like a phantom, with his abilities that he had used to help them all escape Arkham when they had attracted too many guards’ attentions.

Although he was creepy and he made the temperature of her living room drop several times, he had helped them all and he was very polite. She couldn’t find any real fault in him except the way her instincts wanted her to not look at him directly, like a haunted painting.

“So now that we’re free, what do you wanna do?” Harley asked. Selina focused back on the conversation, as Wraith hummed and Ivy and Harley turned to look at her with various levels of eagerness.

“There’s a new jewelry exhibit opening up tomorrow. Want to take some diamonds?” Selina asked, speaking up as she glanced at Wraith.

Wraith hummed. “Thank you, but I think I’ll decline. If any of you need help, I am willing to offer my services, but—”

“Is Nightwing still in Gotham?” Harley asked, interrupting Wraith, who glared at her.

Selina raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. He’s still visiting.”

“Actually, I would love to assist you three in any way. My powers are at your service. What time are we going to the exhibit tomorrow?” Wraith suddenly said, looking very eager. Selina blinked at the whiplash before looking at Harley and Ivy, who both looked amused.

It was Ivy who mouthed the words, ‘He likes Nightwing,’ to her, which made her hold back a laugh.

She could remember that little Robin that used to cheerfully break someone’s face with a flying somersault, and that same little boy had grown up into a vigilante with almost flying abilities with the way he moved and fought. Wraith was a criminal, since he was in Arkham, but he didn’t seem too bad. In a way, it reminded her of her and Bruce.

“Well. I think Ivy and Harley can take the other vigilantes, right? I can take Batman and you’ll take Nightwing?” Selina said. Wraith perked up and nodded happily.

How cute. She was so not telling Bruce about this beforehand, so she could laugh about his expression later.

A day passed, and the four of them traveled to the museum when it was night. By now, news of Harley and Ivy being broken out was already known, so security had gotten a little more strict. Still, it was nothing with all of their expertise and Wraith’s unexplained meta abilities. They snuck in easily and looted all of the gold, gems, jewelry, and antiques they saw.

“Where’s your bag?” Selina asked, as she eyed Wraith holding some pearls and gems without a bag to contain it. He was dressed in a dark leather suit that had been originally Bruce’s cat suit— it was nice to hope that he would join her one day— but was now repurposed for Wraith. Her question was answered with a small smile from Wraith as he shoved his hand into his chest, making the gems disappear. Her eyebrows rose but she just gave a nod and moved on.

After that, the bigger and heavier items were given to Wraith to keep. Selina was almost a little worried by how much they trusted him, but Harley didn’t seem to notice and only she and Ivy had some anxiety about it. However, Wraith didn’t seem to care either, and listened to their expertise without any hesitation. It was probably because he was younger than them by at least a decade, she realized.

He was extremely fascinating, and Selina suddenly understood why Harley was so interested in him like a scientist towards a petri dish.

The Gotham heroes finally arrived, just as they loaded up everything in the car. Wraith perked up when he saw Nightwing amongst the vigilantes coming towards them.

Selina couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden cheer on his usually bored or blank expression.

“Okay, Harley, Ivy, you two go back to the hideout. Wraith, you can take me away if we need to, right?” Selina asked, smiling as she recalled Wraith’s intangibility and invisibility abilities yesterday.

Wraith nodded and the other two drove off without hesitation, leaving Selina and Wraith facing the Gotham vigilantes. Wraith wagged his clawed fingers in a greeting at Nightwing, smirking broadly.

“Hello, Nightwing. It’s good to see you again,” he purred. Selina was watching the spectacle gleefully, occasionally glancing at Batman’s covered expression, wondering if she was going to see a good show today.

Nightwing faltered in his steps before he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. However, he answered pleasantly, “Hello, Wraith. I see you’ve befriended the Sirens.”

“Mhm. They helped me a lot so I could see you again.”

Nightwing’s cheeks darkened but through the shadows, Selina felt like she could see a bit of red on his face. “I see. Well, I’ll have to ask you guys to give up the jewelry you stole. We can do this the hard way or the easy way.”

“Please do the hard way,” Wraith purred again, even throatier than before. Selina had to choke on her giggles as Batman stiffened in horror, staring between his oldest son and the criminal.

Nightwing coughed and took out his escrima sticks. “Well, you’re under arrest, Wraith. Surrender and we won’t have to—”

“Oh my god, just fight him! Stop flirting!” Spoiler screamed and then they all flew into action. Selina took out her whip, but before she could make a move, Wraith darted at her, wrapped his arms around her, and then turned invisible before they flew off through the walls.

Selina blinked rapidly as she watched the museum grow smaller and smaller into the distance. “… you could fly the entire time?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, I’m very strong.” There was a touch of deep arrogance in Wraith’s voice. Then he sighed, “But I was told not to make too much trouble. So it’s better to make an early escape than stick around.”

“I would’ve thought that you would’ve stayed to flirt with Nightwing some more,” Selina teased.

“It’s weird to flirt in front of his siblings,” Wraith said in distaste as they flew over the building roofs and past the clouds to Selina’s hideout. “I’ll find another day to fight him without voyeurs around.”

Selina burst into laughter. Yeah, she could completely understand why Ivy and Harley wanted to take him in now. He really was quite interesting.

[13lov]

tethered pt. 2 | jjk

✰ pairing. — emo!jk x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 10k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, friendship betrayal, mention of drugs/alcohol, smut [ cunnilingus, rough sex, ...idk how else to describe it ] reader and jk are both 18+, minors dni.

✰ a/n. long awaited part 2! the amount of love i received from part one was overwhelming and it means to world to meet that so many people instantly fell in love with this couple. another part is already in the works!

✰ taglist. @ahgasegotarmy116 @hellbornsworld @kissyfacekoo @littlestarstinyseven @skzthinker @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @ilikekpop-c @busanbby-jjk @xjjk187 @aloverga @kookcobain @mzeji @bxcndd @hoseokteardrop @canyon-lwt @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @jksteponme @parkinglot-nights @chromekingkong @jk97bam [ if i didn't tag u it's because tumblr didn't allow me to! ]

part one | masterlist | ao3 | buy me a coffee?

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” Somi is glaring daggers at you upon opening the front door, arms crossed across her chest as she eyes you. Her lips are twisted into a disgusted snarl, you’ve never seen her this upset before.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “Find out about what?”

She cocks her head to the side, squinting her eyes at you. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Fuck, you’re screwed. If there were a list of all the reasons why you shouldn’t have had sex with Jeon Jungkook, the simple fact of  him being your best friend’s brother would be number one.

With closed eyes, you let out a relieved sigh. As much as you wanted to wait to tell Somi about hooking up with Jungkook, it’d be an enormous weight off your shoulders not having to hide it any longer. It’d only been a few days since it happened, but you really hate keeping secrets from her.

“How’d you find out?” You question, chewing on your bottom lip.

“My parents told me, duh.”

Holy crap, Jungkook told his parents the two of you had sex? Why the fuck would he do that?

“They did?” You ask, completely bewildered.

“Well, yeah!” Somi finally uncrosses her arms, demeanor completely changing as her gaze softens, “Why didn’t you tell me your sister got engaged?”

Thank God you didn’t elaborate any further.

“Oh! Because they probably aren’t gonna last.” You respond, stepping into the Jeon household once Somi allows you to enter. It’s been a few days since you’ve been here, mostly due to the fact that you were completely avoiding Jungkook.

The empty condom in his trash bin had been plaguing your mind nonstop, you could barely even sleep from how embarrassed you were. Why did he fake his orgasm? What if he didn't fake an orgasm and just shot a blank? Did you do something wrong? Was he not attracted to you? Why was the condom empty? 

Seeing him in person would’ve only intensified the thoughts roaming in your head, so you avoided him at all costs up until now. You’d promised the Jeon siblings that you’d finally see Twilight with them and their friends despite not being able to function correctly around either of them. 

Somi snickers, following you into the living room. “Ooh, that’s not nice.”

“It’s true, though,” you explain, “she’s still so young, only a few years older than your brother. I mean, can you picture Jungkook getting married in a few years?”

The regret from that question fills you almost immediately.

“Sure,” Somi responds, pausing to greet the eager doberman charging at her. “As long as he finds the right person. He’d get married in a heartbeat.”

You want to ask what Somi’s definition of “the perfect person” would be for Jungkook or the type of girl she’d be willing to set him up with. It’d probably be the unnamed, mysterious redhead you recently dreamed about curb stomping (yikes!).

You don’t respond to this, taking a seat on the sofa when the sudden shout of your name has you flinching. It’s Somi’s parents, excitedly greeting you with open arms as you politely stand to properly hug them. “I feel like it’s been so long since we’ve seen you! How’s your family? We just heard the news about your sister!” Mrs. Jeon ambushes you with questions, all while cradling your face.

“About how she’s making the biggest mistake of her life?” You half-joke.

Mrs. Jeon playfully waves a hand in your direction as she steps into the kitchen, her husband only a few feet behind. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m sure the two of them will be very happy together.” She turns to her husband, grabbing his hand, “I just can’t believe Imogen is getting married. I still remember when she first started high school.” 

Mr. Jeon sighs in disbelief. “I know,” he mumbles, nodding at you. “You’re up next soon, huh?”

“Maybe she can marry Jungkook,” Mrs. Jeon comments, opening her fridge, “set him straight.”

“Gross, Mom. Don’t wish that on her.” Somi groans in disgust as she plops down next to you.

Well, that answers your previous question.

“We should probably get going, right? To make it in time for the trailers?” You ask.

“Yeah, we should.” Somi responds, tilting her head up towards the staircase, “Jungkook! Hurry up and come downstairs! We’re ready to go!”

“Gimmie a minute!” He shouts back, and a chill runs down your spine. It’s been too long since you’ve heard his voice. The last time you saw him, he was lying naked in his bed; you’re not sure how you’ll survive being around him all night knowing what your last encounter was like.

As promised, Jungkook is sliding down the staircase a minute later and nails the landing. He’s wearing a black Twilight shirt featuring the leading couple, black cargo pants, and, of course, black sneakers. He looks like his usual self until you take a closer look and notice the reddish-black eyeshadow that decorated his eyes. It wasn’t much, just enough to make his eyes pop, and it complimented him perfectly. A second later, you see the black nail polish neatly coated on his nails. You have to blink a few times to ensure this is real life and you’re not trapped in a wet dream.

He strolls into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from his parents before digging through the fridge. His mom clears her throat, crossing her arms at him.

“What?” He asks, retrieving a two-liter Mountain Dew bottle. 

“Seriously, Jungkook? The makeup? The nail polish?” She questions, clearly frustrated.

Jungkook cocks his head, unscrewing the soda bottle’s lid. “What’s wrong with it? Somi’s wearing the same thing.”

“Son, you know that’s different.” His father interjects.

Jungkook takes a swig of the soda before responding. “Why? Because she’s a girl?”

“It’s not like that, hon. It’s just…we didn’t make a big deal of it when you first started the piercings, and the tattoos, and the hair dye, but this…it’s a little much. Don’t you think?” His mother asks.

You want to step in and remind his parents that Jungkook is old enough to make his own decisions and express himself as he pleases, but it’s not your place. Instead, you cheer silently when Somi surprisingly interrupts the discussion. “Did you guys seriously force him to come back home just to criticize how he presents himself, or would you rather have a peaceful summer?”

“We aren’t trying to criticize him, Somi. We’re just looking out for our child.” Mr. Jeon responds.

“It’s a special occasion, Dad. Is it bad that I wanted to look nice for—” Jungkook abruptly cuts himself short, quickly glancing in your direction before returning his attention to his parents. “...to go see Twilight with my friends?”

What was that about?

Silence passes, and the three stare at each other until Mrs. Jeon sighs defeatedly and says, “No, there’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. I hope you guys enjoy the movie.”

“We will,” Jungkook responds, closing the soda bottle lid and placing it back in the fridge. He heads for the front door, beckoning you and Somi to follow behind. He’s eager to leave the house, quickly swinging the front door open and jogging towards his car.

You and Somi say goodbye to her parents with a promise to be home by eleven before following in Jungkook’s footsteps, who already has the car running. As you wait for Somi to finish locking the front door, Jungkook rolls down his window and shouts, “Hurry up! Let’s go!”

“Will you calm down?!” Somi throws back, rolling her eyes as she finally removes the house key from the lock.

You follow her towards Jungkook’s car, sliding into the backseat as you pretend not to notice Jungkook watching you through the rearview mirror. He wants you to look at him, but you refuse, busying yourself by buckling your seatbelt and convincing Somi to do the same. Once Jungkook is convinced you’re not going to do so much as glance at him, he puts the car in drive and pulls into the road.

Somi talks your ear off in the backseat about whatever comes to mind while you keep your eyes on the window. It’s hard to not notice Jungkook glancing back at you through the mirror at every red light or stop sign, but you don’t dare meet his gaze.

The movie theater’s parking lot is crowded when you arrive; it takes Jungkook a few minutes to eventually locate a spot. A smile is plastered on his face as he parks the car, eager to see some of his closest friends after being separated for months. He informs you and Somi to disregard anything foolish he friends may say, claiming they arrived early to smoke behind the movie theater, so they’re more than likely too high to function properly.

Jungkook shrugs when Somi asks why people do that, shoving his hands into his pockets as the three of you approach the theater entrance. "Some people say it makes the movie experience better."

You want to ask Jungkook if he's ever been high, but you can barely even bring yourself to look in his direction, let alone ask him a question. So you're silent as the three of you enter the movie theater, instantly spotting Jungkook's bandmates in the far corner.

Well… Jungkook's bandmates and one other guest.

The bubbly redhead greets you guys first, running up to Jungkook with open arms as if they haven't seen each other in a million years. It makes you want to vomit.

You look away as they hug, directing your attention to the concession stand employee who had already been watching you. His name tag reads 'Beomgyu,' and he resembles a younger version of Jungkook, with the same dark hair and similar lip piercings. His eyes stay on you until a customer blocks your path, and you're back to watching Jungkook reunite with his friends.

"Hey, you were the one at that party, right? With Somi?" The redhead asks, squinting her eyes at you.

"Yeah." Is all you respond with, because why in God's name is this girl talking to you right now?

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Scar," she introduces herself, extending a hand for you to shake.

Somi interjects, grabbing ahold of your wrist while glaring at Scar. "Your name is Scarlett."

She drags you along to the ticket booth, mumbling about how she doesn't like nor trust Scar. When you ask for her reasoning, she responds with, "I don't need one. I just don't like her."

At least you're on the same page about that. 

Still, you can't help but wonder why Somi has a distaste for Scar. You have your petty reasoning for disliking her, but Somi (more than likely) has better knowledge of Scar's personality, so whatever reasons she dislikes her could be legitimate. 

You're thinking of this as Jungkook orders the tickets for everyone, asking the employee to give him a minute when the friend you recognize as Yugyeom starts tapping his shoulder. "We should go see Saw instead; it just came out."

Jungkook looks genuinely confused at the suggestion. "What? No, we came here to see Twilight."

"So?!" Jaebeom chimes in, eyes red as the devil, "Come on, dude, you've already seen Twilight. Don't you wanna see something new?"

"Fuck no, we're literally in the middle of buying the tickets." Jungkook reminds everyone.

"I kinda wanna see Saw, too."

"Same."

"Yeah, me too."

"I do, too."

Jungkook whips his head around at his sister, "What? Even you?"

Somi scoffs, "Well, yeah! Twilight just seems boring in comparison."

"Come on, guys," the employee interrupts, "you're holding up the line."

Jungkook turns towards you. "Do you still wanna see Twilight?"

Truthfully, you want to go home; but seeing how excited Jungkook was for the movie made you feel something, so you nod. He lets out a relieved sigh. 

He moves out of the way to allow his friends to buy their tickets first, slipping his sister cash to pay for hers, which she initially rejects. "I don't need your money," she claims.

"Just take it, Somi. I brought it for you." 

From what you can make out, it's enough to cover her ticket and grab something from the concession stand. The pair of siblings may bicker a lot, but it's nice to know Jungkook still looks out for his younger sister whenever he can.

Somi reluctantly accepts the money and purchases her ticket; you watch as Jungkook follows suit, ordering two tickets for Twilight and stopping you from opening your purse. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, it's fine. I have enough." You reassure him.

Jungkook laughs to himself, "Why are the two of you like this?" He questions, fishing out crumpled dollar bills from his pocket and handing them to the cashier, who sighs in annoyance, straightening and inspecting each bill before placing it in his register.

You don't know why Jungkook insists on being so nice to you despite your persistence in not speaking to him. A part of you wonders if he thinks this is some kind of date now that the two of you will be separated from the group. It doesn't matter. You don't know why you're overthinking it.

Once all the tickets have been purchased, the seven of you head towards the concession stand. Somi debates pushing herself to the front of the long line, claiming that the theater should make accommodations for those whose movie is starting sooner. Or something like that, you can't really focus with the way Beomgyu is staring at you. You're used to guys always staring, but they tend to shyly look away upon making eye contact. 

Beomgyu is quite the opposite, staring you down every chance he gets. Your skin feels hot, and you're suddenly anxious under his gaze. 

When the group ahead of you has finished ordering and is heading off into their theater, you're sure to stick close to Jungkook as you approach the counter. Beomgyu eyes him over once before returning his gaze to you. "What can I get for you guys?"

Jungkook takes the liberty of ordering a large popcorn for the two of you to share and doesn't even get mad when you request a slushie instead of a fountain drink. He doesn't let you pay, swatting your hand away when you absentmindedly reach for your purse. "You seriously have to stop doing that." He mumbles, handing Beomgyu the cash.

Beomgyu quickly prepares the popcorn and Jungkook's drink but takes his time making your slushie. He's sure to fill it to the brim, and you're worried it may accidentally overflow and leave a sticky mess. "You didn't want candy or anything?" He questions, handing you your drink. 

You shrug, "Maybe Twizzlers, but—"

Before you can finish, Beomgyu is reaching under the counter and sliding you a pack of Twizzlers. "On me."

"Oh, are you sure?" You ask, hesitant to accept the free candy.

Beomgyu sends Jungkook a cocky smirk before he responds, "Yeah, enjoy the movie."

You thank Beomgyu and pretend to not notice the death glares the two boys are sending one another before walking with Jungkook to your theater. "That guy was weird." He comments.

"Yeah." You agree, but it's definitely not true. Beomgyu was friendly and clearly interested in you, unlike Jungkook, who sent you nonstop, draining mixed signals. If his definition of weird is someone straightforward, then you should start going after weirdos.

Once you're settled in your seats in the back of the theater — per Jungkook's request — he clears his throat and says, "So, I tried messaging you on Facebook. Didn't get anything back."

"Oh, sorry. I haven't been using Facebook that much." You reply, hoping your lame excuse is believable enough.

He nods, eyes bouncing between you and the movie trailers playing in the background. "Yeah, I figured." He says. When you don't respond, he continues, "I would've asked Somi for your number, but I didn't want her to get suspicious or anything."

"That's smart." You admit, nodding in agreement.

"Are you okay?" Jungkook asks suddenly, his full attention to you.

You finally make eye contact, and the expression on his face makes your heart sink. He looks genuinely concerned and confused by your sudden coldness. You hate being so mean to him, but you're too embarrassed to explain the real reason why you've been avoiding him. So you nod and say, "Just a little tired."

It's clear he doesn't believe this; the same expression is still on his face as he refocuses on the movie trailers. 

You hate how awkward it feels to be around him now. Never in a million years would you have guessed the two of you would end up like this. A week ago, you would've been overjoyed at the idea of being on a movie date with Jungkook, and now you're considering leaving early and catching a taxi home.

The two of you remain silent as the rest of the trailers play on, and Jungkook immediately sits up in his seat when the lights finally dim and the curtains are pulled back further. He's reticent throughout the movie, aside from a muffled chuckle occasionally; he even side-eyes anyone making too much noise.

You enjoy Twilight nonetheless, agreeing with Jungkook that you do, in fact, dress like Bella Swan from time to time. When he asks if you liked it as you're exiting the theater, you tell him it was very nice and that you hope there'll be another movie.

Jungkook smiles at this, tossing his empty cup in a nearby trash bin. "I'm sure there will be. Maybe they'll even cast you as Bella's stunt double since you already have the clothes."

"Shut up." You tease, and it feels nice to joke with him as usual. You may finally have the courage to tell Jungkook why you've been so distant these past few days.

Saw doesn't get out for another few minutes, so you're stuck waiting in the lobby for Somi and everyone else. Jungkook gestures towards the nearly empty slushie cup clutched in your hands, "You get free refills on that, I think."

You take his word, strolling over to the concession stand. Beomgyu spots you immediately and gestures for you to skip around the line. You shake your head, but he still beckons for you to come over. You feel bad, but the line has gotten longer since you were first here, and you really don't want to wait in a long line just for a refill. 

"What flavor?" He asks once you've slid him your cup.

You tell him anything is fine and he gets to work, combining the cherry and blue raspberry flavors. "How was the movie?"

"It was good. The vampire stuff was cool."

"Have you seen Saw yet? It just came out."

"No, I haven't."

"It's so good; if you wanna give me your number, maybe we can see it together sometime."

What is it with guys offering to take you out to a movie they've already seen? You're not complaining; it's just odd.

Beomgyu is clearly interested in you and has offered to take you out. You'd be silly to pass up on this guy just because your current relationship with your longtime crush is at a standstill. So you accept, scribbling your phone number down on a napkin with your name underneath. He promises to call you once his shift ends and that he looks forward to seeing you.

When you turn to meet up with Jungkook, he's gone. You catch him storming out of the theater, hauling ass to his car.

You run to catch up to him, calling out his name and begging him to slow down.

When he finally does stop, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. He gets angry all the time, but this was something completely different. "So you were just using me, huh?"

What? What is he talking about?

"Using you for what?"

"To lose your virginity. You just wanted to get it over with, right?" His voice is slightly hushed now but still loud enough for you to feel embarrassed about anyone passing through the parking lot.

"Jungkook, what are you talking about?"

"You used me to lose your virginity, so when you date other guys you can tell them you've had sex before. Is that what this is?"

This accusation hurts, considering that Jungkook was the only guy you've ever been interested in romantically and sexually. You don't know where this theory originated, but you don't like it.

Jungkook continues before you respond, "I tried reaching out and talking to you, and you just blew me off! And yet, here you are, giving your number to random guys! Am I not good enough for you?!"

"It's not like that, Jungkook!" You don't mean to raise your voice at him, but you can't help it. Both of your emotions were at an all-time high.

"Then what is it like?!"

Here goes nothing.

There are already tears forming as you go to explain yourself. "I didn't reach out to you because…because I was embarrassed."

"You were embarrassed to have sex with me?"

"No!" You yell in reassurance, "No, no, no. Of course not. I was embarrassed because I know you didn't finish. I just thought maybe I did something wrong or didn't do enough."

Jungkook quirks a brow at you, "What makes you think I didn't finish?"

You really hate that he's making you explain this. "I saw the condom afterwards; it was empty."

"You went digging in my trash can to find the condom?" Now he looks more disgusted than confused; this is going so horribly.

"No! I saw it when I went to get my phone off the charger."

Jungkook takes a minute to process everything, scratching his chin in deep thought. You can't tell what he's feeling, but he does look hurt. It makes you regret avoiding him in the first place.

"So, you were prepared to never talk to me again over an empty condom?" Despite his stern demeanor, he's clearly shaking as he questions you.

You want to say no, that it wasn't a case, but you can't bring yourself to lie to him again. So you say nothing. Jungkook nods at your lack of response before turning around and walking towards his car. You remain still, frozen in place, watching as he sits on the hood of his car and smokes a cigarette.

If it weren't for Somi finishing her movie within the next few minutes, you would've walked the entire way home.

This bitch is driving you crazy.

Your older sister, Imogen, is home for a few days to start her wedding preparations. The fake bridezilla persona she's putting on bothers you the most, bursting out in tears at the most inconvenient times or having a breakdown about selecting a theme. Deep down, she doesn't care about any of this bullshit; she's like you about parties or big events.

"This is literally the biggest day of my life, and you're being so fucking difficult." Imogen snarls at you, pouring herself a cup of coffee. You're sitting a few feet away on the kitchen counter, staring out the kitchen window. Despite Imogen's occasional yelling and snarky comments, all you can think of is Jungkook.

It's been an entire week since the movie theater incident. You haven't stopped by the Jeon household not once, telling Somi you fell ill and don't want to get her sick. It's another lame excuse, but she buys it, opting to talk to you on the phone daily until you recover.

You have yet to speak to Jungkook; it's not like you've tried. The idea of messaging him on Facebook and not receiving a response makes you anxious. It's hard to believe you subjected him to the same torture not long ago. It doesn't help that Scarlett is suddenly all over his page, commenting on nearly every one of his posts, writing on his wall, or tagging him in pictures. Your recurring dream of curb-stomping her is back in full force.

You sigh at your sister, "Whatever you say, Imogen."

She waves dismissively at you, "Please, don't even talk to me right now."

You hop off the counter in annoyance and stomp off towards the staircase, mumbling, "Fucking drama queen."

"Language." Your mom warns you, flipping through one of the several bridal magazines your sister has stacked on the coffee table.

Imogen scoffs, setting her mug on the counter. "I'm the drama queen? Whenever I talk about my wedding, you throw a fucking fit!"

"Why are you pretending to care about this stupid wedding and that stupid boy you barely even know?!" You shout back from the staircase.

"If my wedding is so stupid, then don't come!"

"I don't even want to go to your stupid wedding, with your stupid fiancé and your stupid red velvet cake that no one's going to fucking eat!"

This is probably the dumbest fight you've ever had.

Imogen doesn't respond to this, advised by your mother not to and to let you stomp up the stairs in a furious rage. You make a beeline straight to your desktop, waking up the computer with a mouse shake and entering your password.

Facebook is already open once you've signed in, Jungkook's page staring right back at you. You're ashamed to admit you'd been cyberstalking him, but you had no choice. Seeing him in person would've been too much, but you still want to ensure he's doing okay.

There's a new post up when you refresh the page; you chew on your bottom lip as you anxiously wait for it to finish loading.

It's a picture of his dirty Chuck Taylor's perched upon a wooden stool. You recognize the background immediately; he's in the treehouse in his backyard. You and Somi would spend hours up there as kids, giving each other manicures and exchanging secrets; now, you can barely look her in the eye without bursting out in tears. You hate how complicated things have become.

A light tap against your door has you swiveling around in your chair. It's Imogen, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed. "Who's that?"

"Somi's brother." You respond, scrolling to a photo that actually shows his face.

Imogen steps further into your bedroom, squinting her eyes at the computer screen. "Oh, yeah. Hasn't changed much, has he?" When you remain silent, she asks, "Would it be wrong of me to assume he's the real reason why you're so upset?"

You sigh, letting your shoulders drop. "You'd be very correct, actually."

She nods in understanding, sitting on the edge of your bed. "So, what's going on? You like him?"

"We kind of like each other, I guess." You mumble. Honestly, you're not quite sure how Jungkook feels about you at the moment.

"And Somi doesn't approve of it?"

You snort, "Somi doesn't know. There was nothing to tell her at first, but things have changed."

"Are you guys dating?"

"No. We actually haven't talked in a week. I may have hurt his feelings."

Imogen nods towards your desktop, “Where is he now?”

You shrug, “Home, I guess.”

She stands, stretching out her limbs. She glances around your room, locates a jacket dangling lifelessly from your doorknob, and tosses it to you. “Let’s go.”

Taking an impromptu trip to the Jeon household had you sweating. What if Jungkook doesn’t even want to see you? What if Somi catches you talking and asks what’s going on?

Each concern you raise is instantly shot down by Imogen, claiming you’re creating excuses to avoid seeing him, how you’re only imagining the worst possible scenarios. You appreciate her overwhelming support but can’t help the nervousness creeping through your body as her car approaches the Jeon household.

“Remember, be apologetic but not desperate,” Imogen informs you, putting her car in park in front of the house.

“I am desperate.” You remind her.

“Well, don’t let him see it. You got this.”

You thank your sister one last time for the advice before stepping out of her car. You’re careful to avoid being seen from windows as you make your way into the backyard; not entirely sure what you’d say if Somi were to catch you.

You scale the tree quickly, silently praying the old wooden steps are stable enough to hold your weight. 

You sigh in relief once you’ve reached the top, only to groan at the sight of Scarlett sitting across from you. She looks up from her iPod with a bright smile, quickly pulling out her earbuds as you enter the treehouse. “Hey, stranger! Watcha doing here?”

Her enthusiasm really makes you sick. “Came to see Jungkook,” you pause to glance around the tiny, wooden deathtrap, “but he’s nowhere to be found.”

“He’ll be back soon; went to use the bathroom,” Scarlett informs you, running her hands through her hair. “So, you guys really like each other, huh?”

What? She knows about that?

“Jungkook told you?” You question, trying your best to appear unbothered. You’re unsure where she’s going with this, but you have no reason to trust her.

Scarlett nods, “We tell each other everything. So when he told me you guys weren’t talking, I may have devised a plan to help you come around. You do use Facebook, right?” She smirks

Holy shit, all the posts of them together were to make you feel jealous enough to have a conversation with him; and your sworn enemy was the mastermind behind it. It was all a ploy to get under your skin, and you fell right into the trap. 

“You’re a stubborn little thing, though. Didn’t think it’d take you so long.” She comments, slipping her jacket on.

You shrug, “I didn’t think he’d want to talk to me.”

“Jungkook always wants to talk to you. I don’t mind it, though. You seem good for him.”

Aside from Somi, Scarlett is probably the last person you would’ve expected to be supportive of your relationship with Jungkook. So, to hear she’d been secretly rooting for you behind the scenes nearly gives you whiplash. You almost feel wrong about your dreams of shoving her face into the pavement.

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “So, nothing is going on between you guys?”

Scarlett grimaces as if you deeply offended her, “Of course not! Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute, but not my type. His sister is cute, though.”

Woah.

“Somi? Jeon Somi? You’re into her?” You ask, completely stunned.

“Hell, yes. Hey, do you think you could set us up? Jungkook would never.”

“You do know that Somi can’t stand you, right?”

Scarlett excitedly nods, “I know, it’s kind of a turn-on.”

You hold your hands out to stop her from elaborating any further. Scarlett has surprised you in more ways than one in less than five minutes. You’re sure any new information would’ve made your head explode.

“I’ll…try my best.” You promise; not quite sure how Somi would feel about the idea of Scarlett liking her.

“For what?” A voice interrupts, causing you and Scarlett to direct your attention to the treehouse’s entrance. And there he is, in all his gothic glory. 

“Girl talk, none of your business,” Scarlett responds, making room for Jungkook to crawl in. 

“Fine. You keep your secrets; I’ll keep mine.” Jungkook groans, sitting between the two of you.

“Will do. I’m outta here. Got a hot date with a box of hair dye. See you suckers later.” Scarlett waves goodbye as she exits the treehouse, reminding you of your promise before disappearing down the steps.

Jungkook clears his throat, sweeping his hair away from his eyes. "So—"

"I'm sorry," you cut him off, "I should've reached out and talked to you, but I was just too embarrassed and didn't know how to approach you about it. I really like you, and I wasn't using you to lose my virginity. I mean, you're the only person I've ever been interested in. So, again, I'm sorry."

He sighs, "I understand why you were embarrassed, but I promise it had nothing to do with you."

"Then what was it?"

Jungkook anxiously scratches the back of his head before he responds. "It's just that…sometimes…it takes me a little bit longer to, uh…to finish."

Oh.

"Is it because of your…size?" You can't help but wonder.

Jungkook snorts, "What, you think I'm big?"

"I'm out of here." You joke, faking as if you're about to leave.

"Wait, wait, wait." He stops you, "I was only kidding. I never really thought size played a factor in it, but every guy is different. But, still, that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy us having sex. I mean, you had already finished, and I didn't want to tire you out just for my sake."

Knowing he had a perfectly reasonable explanation makes you feel even worse about spending all that time avoiding him. You want to tell him you wouldn't mind him tiring you out, that the idea excites you, but you refrain.

A beat of silence passes, and you ask, "But, I'm sure if there's something that you're really into, then it wouldn't take as long for you to finish. Right?"

Jungkook nods, "I guess."

"Then, what is it? What are you into?"

He coughs, tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. "Um…I guess I'm into…roughness?"

Ah. 

"That's not a big deal. A lot of people are probably into that."

"I mean, it's fine either way, but I mostly prefer when girls are kinda rough with me. Fuck, this is embarrassing."

"It's not!" You reassure him, placing a gentle hand on his knee, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me."

Jungkook stares at your hand on his knee before placing his own on top. You twist yours upwards and interlock your fingers, not missing the smile that forms on his face. His bangs have swept into his eyes again, and you use your free hand to move them out of the way. "It was my first time, too, by the way."

You snort, "You don't need to say that just to make me feel better."

"I'm serious," he continues, "I mean, I've gotten pretty handsy in the past, but nothing like what we did."

You shake your head, "I don't buy it. You seemed so experienced like you knew what you were doing."

Jungkook shrugs, "I mean, I'm not completely innocent. I may occasionally watch certain videos and read certain stories from time to time."

Porn and smut. Beautiful combination.

He shakes his head, "You still don't believe me; how come?"

You sigh, memories of the night before he left for college flashing in your mind. How you ran home in tears, how he only responded to Scar's comment on Somi's Facebook post. It almost hurts to think about. "The night before you left for school, there was an opened condom wrapper on your floor. I just figured…you know."

Jungkook nods at the memory. "I wasn't gonna go to the dorms the next day. I was planning on running away, that's why I gave you that bandana. After my parents helped bring my stuff to the dorms, I was gonna put everything in my car then take off."

You're having a hard time processing this information. Why would Jungkook plan on running away? What does this story have to do with the empty condom?

He continues, clutching your hand even tighter. "I only told a few people I was leaving, and there was this one girl who came over to say goodbye. She'd been really into me for a while and was heartbroken that I was leaving. We were about to hook up, hence the condom wrapper, but I couldn't do it."

"Why?" You question.

"Didn't feel right. I wasn't into her the same way she was into me. Just couldn't do it." He explains, eyes staring deep into yours. You believe him; you know he's being truthful.

"What made you decide to stay?" You ask.

"For Somi," he answers, "I couldn't just leave her like that. And for you, too."

Though you've felt it for many years, telling Jungkook you love him is too soon. But you want to, so very badly.

"I'm glad you decided to stay." Your voice is barely a whisper now as you try to stop yourself from tearing up.

He nods, "Me too."

You sit in comfortable silence for a minute, clutching each other's hands. You wish you could stay like this forever. 

"I just realized you never told me if there's anything you're into." He points out.

You shrug, "Just you." And it's true: Jungkook is the only person you've ever been interested in. Everything he says and does is genuinely attractive to you.

He drops your hand gently, using it to tilt your head towards him, and he kisses you. 

You're quick to cradle the back of his head as his hands snake around your waist, deepening the kiss. You move to straddle his lap, slowly pushing him onto his back. He grunts in surprise, breaking away from the kiss. "You—"

"Stop talking." You demand before your lips intertwine with his once again. With one hand on his chest, you reach to grab a fistful of his hair and tug lightly, earning a satisfied moan from him. You're not used to being rough with guys, but you're sure Jungkook enjoys it with the way his erection is already pressing up against your thigh.

Reluctantly, you pull away from him and sit up, staring at him sprawled underneath you in complete awe. "Alright, I'll message you my number so we can text. See you later."

"No! No, no, no. Please don't go." He pleads, holding you in place when you go to stand, "Just stay a little longer, please."

You smile down at him, fighting the urge to stay in the treehouse. "I can't. Imogen is waiting out front. We'll see each other soon, okay?" You promise, planting a kiss on his forehead.

Jungkook nods, fingers drumming against the floor as he watches you crawl out of the treehouse. "Don't be too surprised if I seem extra excited to see you next time." He calls after you.

"Trust me, I won't."

Jungkook is the first boy to ever sneak in through your bedroom window.

He carelessly tosses his backpack in first, cringing when it lands on your carpeted floor with a loud thud. Though you’ve assured him your parents are heavy sleepers, he’s still worried you’ll get in trouble if he makes too much noise and accidentally reveals himself. “Sorry,” he apologizes, wrist gripping your forearm as you help pull him in.

“It’s fine,” you whisper back, “they’re not gonna wake up.”

“Still,” he grunts, using his upper body strength to pull him further into your room. “Don’t want you getting in trouble.”

It’s a day after the treehouse incident; as promised, you sent Jungkook your number and spent all day texting back and forth. Despite not being big on texting, you admire how Jungkook likes to keep you updated on what he’s doing and how he checks up on you to ensure you’re okay. 

“We’ll be fine, but just in case, I did make room for you in my closet in case you have to hide.” You inform him.

Jungkook stifles a laugh, “Good to know.” He settles himself on the edge of your bed, moving over once he realizes he’d sat on a pile of clothing. “Oh, were you about to shower?”

“I was,” you answer, moving the clothing over to your nightstand, “but I’ll wait until after you leave.”

He has to stop himself from making a joke about joining you in the shower. He nods, leaning down to drag his backpack towards him, “Guess what I got today.”

“What?” You question, legs folded underneath you as you sit beside him.

Jungkook slowly unzips his backpack, careful not to make too much noise before rummaging through it and clutching something in his hand. He momentarily turns his back towards you, clips something to his shirt, then turns back around.

There’s a name tag on his chest now with his name scribbled in black ink and a little star next to it. “A job?”

He nods, “At that music store, Spin City. Need to start saving up before classes start. Plus, I wanna take you out somewhere nice before summer’s over.”

You gulp, “Like, a date?”

“Yeah. I mean, unless… I don’t know. I just kinda figured…” He trails off, suddenly worried he may be scaring you off.

You grab ahold of his hand, “I know, and trust me, you’re perfect, and I want us to be together. But, the night we saw you at that party, I did ask Somi if she would be upset if I was into you. Surprisingly, she said she wouldn’t mind as long as I talked to her before making a move on you. And, well…”

“We made a move on each other without telling her,” Jungkook finishes for you.

You nod, “Exactly.”

He sighs, “So, I’m guessing that means you wanna wait before we make things official.”

“Yeah. No matter what, I still want to be with you. But it’d be best for all of us to get her on board with this first. Show her how much we truly care for each other, and make sure she’s okay with it. So she knows my relationship with you won’t affect our friendship, and vice versa.” You explain. Jungkook’s eyes never stray from yours, listening intently and nodding at everything you say.

“That’s fair,” he agrees, “It’s a good idea. Do you want me to talk to her? Or for us to talk to her together?”

You shake your head, “She’ll definitely freak out on you; it’s best if I do it alone first, then you talk to her afterward.”

Jungkook leans back against your bed, resting his head on your pillow. It’s funny how different your aesthetics are; he looks perfectly out of place, sprawled on your baby pink pillow surrounded by teddy bears. “When?”

“I dunno,” you respond, lowering yourself until your head rests comfortably on his bicep. “Doesn’t have to be right away. As long as it’s before we move into the dorms.”

“We shouldn’t wait too long, though. It’ll only make things worse.” Jungkook mumbles, pulling you closer to him.

“I know. I’ll have a talk with her soon, I promise.”

You interlock pinkies to solidify your promise and ease his nerves. You hadn’t realized how anxiety-inducing this was for Jungkook as well. The idea of Somi not approving of your relationship had him genuinely worried. 

“But, you should know that no matter what—” he starts.

You cut him off, “I know.”

The hands that once purposely dumped slime in your hair are now tugging your panties down your legs.

“Can we try something?” Jungkook asks with a mumble against your lips, your soft blue underwear now clutched in the palm of his hand.

“Like what? I actually make you come for once?” You joke, earning a laugh from Jungkook.

“Don’t worry about me.” He presses another kiss against your lips, “You trust me?”

“Of course.” You respond, sitting up in Jungkook’s bed as he moves backward, never breaking eye contact with you. He pushes your skirt up slightly but pats your hand away when you go to remove it altogether.

“Leave it on.” He commands, bringing himself at face level with your cunt.

You’ve never felt this shy in your life, grateful your bunched-up skirt created the tiniest barrier between having Jungkook see you all flustered. Never had you been this intimate with a guy, especially not a guy you technically weren’t even dating.

His thumb is circling your clit before you have the time to protest, to tell him he doesn’t have to do this just for your sake, but the feeling of his fingers pressed against you has you at a loss for words. 

“This okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You respond, tilting your head upwards to stare at the ceiling.

Before you know it, his middle and index fingers are pressed against your opening, eliciting a gasp from your lips. At your reaction, Jungkook slips his finger into your entrance, thumb still playing with your clit. He insists on being teasingly slow today, wanting to draw out every moment and observe your reaction.  

He pumps his fingers in and out of you in a slow, consistent motion, an amused smirk on his lips when he hears your breathing become ragged. Abruptly, he slips his fingers out of you, moving your thighs to rest them atop his shoulders. 

“Wait, you don’t have to—oh fuck.” You’re cut off by Jungkook pushing himself forward, placing a sudden kiss on your clit that has your hips jolting in the air. His hand grabs your waist and licks at your slit, keeping you in place as he gently returns your body to his mattress. 

His growing erection is the last of his worries, all too focused on dragging his tongue across your cunt. He flattens his tongue, pulling the wetness upward until he’s circling your clit again. In search of something to grab onto, your hands grip the bed sheets until Jungkook reaches forward, moving your hand over to grip his hair.

His eyes are closed when you look down at him, and you swear you can hear him moan as he eats you out. You try your best to keep the noise down out of fear someone will hear, but you can’t help but yell out when he’s back to fingering you, all while circling your clit with his tongue. 

Your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face further into your pussy, and he lets out a satisfied groan. It’s embarrassing how quickly your orgasm approaches; everything with Jungkook is so intense. He knows this, eyes fluttering open to watch your expressions. Black eyeshadow is smeared across his eyelids as his eyes focus on your own, hands gripping your thighs as he tongue circles your clit.

His fingers are relentlessly pumping into your cunt now, contrasting against how teasingly slow his tongue is moving. He pulls his mouth away, lips glistening with your arousal, and asks, “You close?”

You don’t respond directly, but the grip you have on his hair gives him all the answers he needs before he’s diving back in. It doesn’t take much for you to come after that, a final kiss pressed on your clit, sending you over the edge and coating Jungkook’s fingers.

Jungkook doesn’t stop there, still continuing to lick and suck your clit until you’re begging him to stop from the overstimulation.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “Was that good?”

“That was literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You respond. Jungkook lets out a laugh as he crawls up next to you. “I should be upset with you, though.”

“What?” He questions, peppering your face with kisses, “Why’s that?”

“I came over to talk to your sister about us, and you distracted me.”

“How’d I do that?”

“Because! You came downstairs in your eyeshadow. Then you were all like, ‘Oh, hey. I cleaned my room; wanna check it out?’” You mimic a deep voice that sounds nothing like his. 

“I apologize for putting on eyeshadow, bringing you to my room, and eating you out. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“I guess.”

You both laugh at this as you move to pull your skirt down. “Hey, how’d you realize you like it when girls are rough with you?”

Jungkook shakes his head as the memory returns to him, a shy smile on his face as he glances over at you. “A couple years ago, I was picking on Somi for something. I don’t even remember why, but it got to the point where my parents were telling me to stop, and I wouldn’t. Then, you just started yelling at me out of nowhere, and I don’t know why, but it was the hottest thing ever. I was in awe. I really thought you were gonna slap me. Since then, it’s just been a turn-on of mine.”

“Wow. That’s actually kind of pathetic.” You tease.

He groans, “Please don’t say that. You’re gonna make me hard again.”

Laughter is shared between you once again before you lean your head down to rest on his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat making you feel calm. A comfortable minute of silence passes before you have to address the unfortunate inevitable, “Somi should be here soon, right?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles, “within the next ten minutes.”

You sigh, “Next time I come over, I’ll have to tell her about us.”

The next time you stop by the Jeon household, Jungkook has you bent over in the backseat of his car.

His finger digs into your waist as his cock is plunging into you at full force, emptying all the thoughts from your brain. You still haven’t fully adjusted to his size, but you don’t care; the pain of being split open makes you come faster. It feels better.

Jungkook insisted on taking things slow, telling you that you’d need to adjust to his size, but the moment you sunk your dripping cunt onto him, he was under your spell. 

Your body lunges forward with every rough stroke Jungkook gives you, hands buried in your hair as he pulls you up against his chest. His hand moves from your hair down to your neck, tilting your head back while applying the slightest bit of pressure against your throat. Your eyes close out of instinct as tears form in the corner of your eyes before trickling down your cheeks. He kisses them away one by one before settling his lips on your neck. You make a mental note to check yourself for hickeys afterward.

You’re coming around him before you realize it, body spasming as you grip the driver’s seat headrest. Jungkook shows no signs of stopping or slowing down; in fact, he’s sped up even faster since fucking you through your orgasm. He lets go of your neck to push down on your back, left hand gripping your waist while the right intertwines your fingers with his. 

A few strokes later, he’s finally coming and jokes about showing you the used condom as confirmation.

You shake your head, gesturing for him to pass you the shorts he’d tossed in the front seat. “I can’t believe I let you trick me again.”

“What?!” He exclaims in utter shock, reaching in the front seat to grab your discarded clothing, “How exactly did I trick you?”

“I came over to talk to Somi, but then you were all like, ‘Hey, come look at my car; I just got it washed.’” You playfully roll your eyes, searching around the backseat for your underwear.

“Can I keep these?” He asks suddenly, the most nonchalant expression on his face as your panties dangle from his middle finger.

You scoff, reaching to snatch them from him, confused when he retracts his hand. “I think I will keep them until you talk to Somi. Since it was you who wanted to talk to her first.”

“Then, I guess I’ll get them back tomorrow because I’m definitely talking to her today.”

Except you don’t.

You spent the entire summer sneaking around with Jungkook and procrastinating about having that talk with Somi. It was anxiety-inducing, to say the least, and you had no idea how she’d react. You tell yourself she won’t be upset as long as you assure her your friendship won’t be affected by you dating her brother. 

You’re scheduled to move into the dorms within a few weeks, so it’s best to sort things out now before you all live under the same roof, unable to avoid one another. Jungkook doesn’t seem nervous at all. In fact, he’d given you a pep-talk the day before you showed up at their home.

“She can’t stay mad forever.” He pointed out, eyes sealed shut as you do his eyeliner.

“I know,” you mumbled, adjusting yourself on his lap, “but that girl can hold a grudge.”

“Right, but this is you we’re talking about. You mean a lot to her, to both of us, actually.”

His words play in your mind as you enter the Jeon household, following Somi into the kitchen. “Baking something?” You ask, a sweet, decadent scent hitting your nose.

“Brownies for some stupid bake sale my parents are having. Help me clean up?” She asks, pouting her lips at you.

“Sure.” You agree, under the assumption that there wouldn’t be much to even clean up. 

Boy, you were wrong. It’s like Somi used every dish in the house to make one sheet of brownies. There’s no backing out now; you already agreed to help, and it’d be best to stay on her good side for now.

She gets to work rinsing each dish before handing them to you to load the dishwasher, moving quickly to get everything done faster.

“What a beautiful friendship.” A familiar voice comments; you fight back a smile as Somi groans at her brother.

“You wouldn’t know; you don’t have any friends,” Somi responds, laughing at her words.

“Neither will you, soon,” Jungkook whispers back, groaning when you swat him in the chest. “Any brownie batter left?”

“None for you. Shouldn’t you be at work?” Somi asks, handing you another dish.

Somi takes a break from rinsing off the dishes to bicker with Jungkook for a minute. You tune out from the conversation, dipping your fingers into the leftover batter bowl and gathering the chocolate on your fingers.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Jungkook says. When Somi finally directs her attention elsewhere, Jungkook takes the opportunity to grab your wrist, bringing your fingers up to his lips before sucking the chocolate off them. 

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head, nervously glancing behind you to ensure Somi hadn’t seen anything. You swat at Jungkook’s chest for the second time, and he laughs as if you’re being overly dramatic. It’s odd how surprisingly calm he is about everything. His demeanor would have worried you if you didn’t trust him so much. 

Jungkook wipes the renaming bit of chocolate around his lips before mouthing ‘Good luck.’ You give him a nervous smile, watching as he slips past Somi and leaves out the front door. You get back to work, making small talk with Somi as you help her load the dishwasher.

It’s now or never.

“So,” you start, “we’re gonna be living together soon.”

Somi smiles, “Finally! God, I can’t wait to have some freedom. My stupid curfew is a major cock-block. Right when things are finally getting good on a date, I have to go back home. So fucking frustrating. There’s literally cobwebs in my vagina.”

You snort, loading the final dish into the washer. “Well, you won’t have that problem anymore.”

“I know. And maybe you’ll even find someone worthy even to date you.” Somi jokes, hopping on the kitchen counter.

“Uh, what if I already have found someone…worthy enough?” You question, pressing a few buttons to get the dishwasher going.

“As if.”

“Somi, I’m serious.”

She sighs, still not buying your confession. “Alright then, who is it?”

“...Your brother.”

A beat of silence passes, and then Somi doubles over in laughter, nearly slipping off the counter several times in seconds. It takes her a minute to catch her breath, clutching her collar for support as she regulates her breathing; even tears are forming in her eyes. “Holy fuck, can you imagine? You and my brother? Jesus Christ.”

“Look, there really isn’t an easy way to say this, but we really do like each other. We’ve been…together this whole summer. Well, not officially; I didn’t want to put a label on anything without talking to you about it first.” You finally confess. The weight on your shoulders doesn’t immediately drop as you expected; it’s like the load has gotten heavier.

Somi has a blank expression as she stares at you, eyes darting around the kitchen as she processes the information. “You’re serious?”

You nod.

She shakes her head, “What kind of friend are you?”

Fuck.

“Somi, please, let me—”

She cuts you off, hopping off the counter and inching towards you. “So, what? All this time, you were using me to get close to Jungkook? Out of every fucking guy on the planet?!”

“No! Of course not! Somi, I never even imagined myself in a relationship with him until this summer, I swear!” Your voice trembles as Somi approaches you. The two of you have never been in a physical fight before, but the expression on her face tells you there’s a first time for everything.

“Oh, really? You expect me to believe that, huh? So it’s just a coincidence that you guys suddenly got together right before we’re all gonna be living in the same building?”

“I know it doesn’t sound great, but—”

“I think you should go.” Somi cuts you off calmly, her sudden change in demeanor shocking you. A moment ago, she looked angry enough to hit you, but now, she seems a few seconds away from breaking down in tears. 

You nod understandably, telling Somi to take all the time she needs and to call you when she’s ready to talk. 

She doesn’t say a word as you exit her house, and you wonder if you’ve just lost the best friend you’ve ever had. 

“I’ve never seen her this angry, Jungkook. I thought she was gonna hit me or something.” You groan, ear pressed up against your phone as you rant to Jungkook.

It’d been a few hours since you left Somi’s house; Jungkook had promised to call you during his break to hear how the conversation went. You’re still shaking as the memories flood you, how your best friend in the world accused you of using her. What a fucking joke. 

“She’ll get over it, trust me. Y’know, before I called you, she spent five minutes yelling at me over the phone. Five fucking minutes, and I just took it. She’ll be fine.” He says, following up with a loud slurping noise that suggests Jungkook has chosen to have ramen for lunch.

It’s astonishing how calm he’s managed to stay this entire time.

You flip over on the couch, head resting on the armrest as you stare at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna lose her. She’s a fireball, for sure, but she’s my fireball. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“I just told you you’re not gonna be without her, okay?”

“...Okay.”

There’s a knock at your front door, most likely from the pizza delivery Jungkook had sent to your house.

“I gotta go. The food is here. Are you still stopping by after your shift?”

“Of course. You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” you stand, making your way to the front door. “I’ll save you some pizza.”

He chuckles at that, “You better. I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

He what?

“You what?” You pause, hand on the doorknob.

“I love you, and I’ll see you later.” He hangs up.

You don’t have time to process his words; the knocking at your front door happens again.

Twisting the knob, you’re met with Somi staring back at you. “Somi? What’re you—”

“I don’t care if you date Jungkook.” She claims, storming through your front door, “If you guys want to be together, then I’m not standing in the way. But I will not be your friend if you date him, so it’s either him or me.”

You follow Somi into your living room, your pulse quickening upon hearing her ultimatum. “Somi, that’s not—”

“Before you choose…as a girl, and as your friend, I have to be completely honest with you.” She sighs, fingers nervously raking through her hair as she sits on your couch. “I called Jungkook after you left, and he talked to me about you guys.”

You nod, taking a seat next to her. “Okay, and…?”

She sighs again, taking your hand in her own. “Everything he’s ever told you was a lie.”

[ozzgin]

Yandere!School Q&A 2

Answering some of the questions involving the Yandere School universe. Gender neutral reader, mildly NSFW/suggestive in parts.

Just curious, is there a difference between men and women in the yandere/darling academy?

Not at all. In theory, there could be a difference in uniforms, as seen from the occasional depiction of skirts, but that's really up to the student. As in, they can wear either, regardless of gender.

When it comes to you, on the other hand...I feel like they'd either ask you to wear pants, or heavily reinforced skirts. Too many creepshots and perverted attempts otherwise.

I know the yandere school verse is meant to be silly but I’m genuinely invested in the lore and worldbuilding now. What classes are taught in both schools? Do the darlings resent the yanderes? WOULD THEY BEAT THE YANDERE STUDENT’S ASS IF THEY GOT FOUND OUT??? SO MANY QUESTIONS SMFKEDKK

To be honest, I still haven't considered all the logistics!

I'm imagining a mix of both when it comes to classes: you have yandere-specific courses, and then general subjects with some practical applications. Obviously you can't do without mathematics, for example. If you don't understand double integrals, how will you determine the area you need to cover to reach your Darling who's running for the hills?

Also, I don't think the Darlings would be too upset. After all, they are studying solely to find themselves a yandere one day. What is a little baffling is that out of all the damn darlings in school, this guy ends up chasing after a ‘yandere’ student.

One of the Yanderes at Yandere Academy is bound to be a Platonic, and they're probably going insane watching every student and teacher going after the school Darling. Do you think they'd be on the staff or a fellow student?

There's plenty of platonic yanderes, both among the students and teaching staff. They make up the security brigade, ensuring your safety and keeping dangers away. If other students let their infatuation go overboard, they will be quick to correct it.

In fact, this is where their yandere skills shine most. Taking care of you.

Ohh what about yan art teacher using reader as the model for nude portraits in class?

That'd be like opening Pandora's box. What's to guarantee that the students won't go feral? Even as a regular model, removing any article of clothing within the artistic depictions is strictly forbidden. The other teachers already have to sort through stacks of confiscated fanart involving you, they don't need a boost in lewd creations.

Unless you mean a private encounter with Yan!Art Teacher for some extra credit. That's a whole different story. 👀

for your yandere school au if I was in readers situation, and I got a free full?? scholarship?/ to a fancy school?/? I no longer need to go along with family tradition I’m getting that free scholarship it’s not like I particularly needed a bunch of people to stalk me 🤷

I'm kind of hoping that Yandere School comes with a full scholarship, too. Bonus points if they offer legacy benefits. Reader comes from several generations of graduates, after all.

Not to mention, you already have a bunch of people stalking you, if we are to count the yandere family members. You'll feel right at home.

The darling is christian in some other scenarios right? What if in sex ed class, she said that she would only do that if she got married? Imagine every single yanderes trying to be a good husband material but the darling is so damn clueless about it

I don't think the religion was ever specified, but you're free to imagine it however you'd like, anon. I can definitely picture the yandere students perking their ears at such statement and taking it as a challenge. You want to wait until marriage? Then they’ll bring the marriage over right now. You have to wonder if there’s some current fashion trend you’re unaware of, as every student has asked for your opinion in rings. You’d assumed it’s a question involving their own, personal acquisitions, so now there’s a bunch of classmates fighting outside because they all got different answers and clearly only one of them holds truth.

That one teacher who got all those accidental smut submissions about Y/N is gonna be feasting tonight

I suspect most teachers have a neatly organized storage full of content involving you. Whether it's accidental submissions, confiscated doodles, illegal photos and so on. Hell, they probably trade the stuff like collectibles.

"You got the fic I asked for?" one teacher asks lowly, resting against the wall.

"Uh huh."

Another teacher swipes through a thick folder with the efficacy of someone who does this too often.

Imagine yandere school y/n slips up and accidently calls a teacher mom/dad. Or worse (or perhaps better depending on who it is), mommy/daddy. y/n is embarrassed, yandere students are jealous, and teacher is now horny.

Terrifying affair. The teacher will have to evade weeks, maybe even months of assassination attempts coming from the students and parents. Reader probably joked about it at the dinner table once, and the mom/dad has been spiraling ever since. How could such a mistake happen? Have they neglected their darling child?

“I-It’s not what it looks like!” one student will stutter, terrified to find Reader’s parent behind them.

“I’d say it’s pretty obvious, you’re doing a terrible job. Hand me the binoculars”, they demand in a whisper, glaring at the object of their envious stalking: the teacher.

How would the readers parents/fam react if the reader complained about the school staff or a student? [Gym teacher dress coding reader] With this as personally speaking I would be really annoyed. The yan family could also take it as an insult because I know for a fact they make sure the reader has all the best stuff. As well how they're bothering or unfairly treating the reader. And if the yan fam connects that the school is yan (students and staff) they would FLIP OUT. But that's out of the point

I’d say it depends on their relationship. Remember, Reader’s parents are graduates of Yandere School, so it’s entirely possible they were taught by the very same teachers and staff. Thus, they might be reluctant to question their authority.

“You have to understand, I had my best intentions in mind”, gym teacher will explain to the parents with a solemn face.

“No, you’re right. We’ve seen the way those kids look at our (Y/N). Who knows what perverted thoughts linger in their mind?”

The grey-haired man dabs a handkerchief across his forehead, visibly paler.

“E-exactly. It was all to protect (Y/N) from any indecent, uh, risks.”

Gym teacher prob got a forest downstairs

Only one way to find out. Better put on your adventurer's hat! 👅

Okay but like, the poor principal having to deal with the entire Yan!academy

He probably stares in the mirror every morning, noticing yet another grey hair, or that his eyebags have gotten worse. He's going to need an early retirement. "I tried my best", he mumbles to the portraits of the previous principals.

How would the yandere school react to reader being hypersexual? P.s can I be raccoon 🦝 anon? [I'm afraid you'll have to pick a different emoji, anon, as raccoon is already taken]

I mean, I can totally picture a playboy/playgirl kind of Reader who skips class to smooch one of the students in a storage room. Or Reader getting too flustered and excited and begging one of the teachers for "help" after school. I'm sure most would comply without hesitation.

Though you may have to deal with a horde of jealous partners who don't like to share. Next thing you know, you have to compile a sexy time chart and schedule the smooching to fit everyone in.

hai ! this is related to yandere school, i’m curious to know what if reader decided to accept the scholarship to darling academy? like i can imagine readers parents worried and proud while clumsy yandere is absolutely celebrating abt it :D

Knowing Reader’s luck and Clumsy!Yandere’s misfortune, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s more yandere students lurking the Darling Academy grounds. Or even worse, some darlings begin to develop intense feelings for Reader. Worry not, your clumsy best friend will always come to your rescue.

[acexsmhking]

Just read your Toby x Chubby!Reader

It was SO GOOD!!

Now begs the question, what other creeps would like a chubby reader?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ What other creeps are into Chubby!Reader(s)

Summary: How many creeps have a higher attraction towards chubby body types?

Warning(s): 18+ content, mentions of cannibalism, this is not to discourage others just how I interpret the characters

This is such a good question! Now of course, my page is dedicated to all body types, skin tones, etc as I always want all of you feel comfort. However I will admit I am guilt of laying out very specific preferences and expectations characters have. It just adds that familiar human depth.

Now, I’ve explained that Toby’s attraction to chubbier individuals isn’t necessarily innocent. Nothing about Tobias expect his puppy dog eyes are. They’re a great source of stimulation and trigger for him. They make him hungry.. or well as much hunger as someone like him can feel (greed).

Others would have to be Tim, Brian, Jack and Jane. Let me explain.

With Tim and Brian, really it’s nothing more than just base attraction. Plus Tim himself is rather large, and you don’t see Brian finding him any less pretty. For Brian and Tim it’s kinda just an always been subconscious fact. No sorts of triggers or stimulating.

Jane is huge in my AU. I mean it. I haven’t been able to write her sheet yet so hey you get a first time look. First of all, Jane is tall like 6’1 and absolutely nothing but muscle. Think Ambessa from Arcane. She’s an agent meant to trick down, contain or kill various murders and.. things. So for Jane, she actually just likes seeing someone who is so completely opposite of her hard muscle. Even if you don’t have that much chub, the fact alone you’re soft, untouched and warm attracts her.

For Jack… well. First of all, chub instinctual shows a sign of status. Being well fed, well maintained and well cared for. As brutish, annoying and manipulative Jack can be. He aims to constantly prove himself a worthy mate. Especially a worthy father. That means he is constantly aiming to make sure you’re warm, well fed, and well groomed. Not just to show you he’s worth keeping around but that he’s a fantastic sire for kids. So it sucks if you do like muscle building because Jack IS going to ruin your gains. Again, that chub on your tummy at the very least, is all he wants.

What about the rests. Well I’d say the rest as either so far gone (cough Kate, Jeff and HABiT cough) that such things are really just dumb to ask about. Kate doesn’t even really know she’s female. Can’t even spell the letter F if she wanted to.

For Helen and Jason I would say they’re actually VERY open to all sorts of body types. They’re artists at heart and the point art is expression and exploration. No matter what, attracting their attention means you’re a worthy muse.

Alex and Jay? They’re still so knee-deep in shit that really. Your bodily image is the LAST thing on their mind. As long as you aren’t starving, they aren’t worrying.

[lze325]

Thats One Way To Confess

changbin x fem! reader

genre: non-idol/college au, friends to lovers

warnings: mdni, language, talk/joking about sex, kinda explicit texts messages, jokes about death, reader and changbin are stupid (let me know if i need any more)

summary: what happens when you accidentally send the messages meant for your friend to the person they were about?

basic info: you live with hyunjin, seungmin, and felix. changbin lives with han and chan. you all decided to get drunk to celebrate the end of midterms but while drunk you tried texting hyunjin about how good changbin looks but clicked on the wrong contact.

a/n: im bad at summaries, also first post! not proofread please let me know if there are mistakes

————————————————————————————

“what have i done?” i repeat over and over to myself as i stare at the messages i sent last night. i practically throw my blankets off myself grabbing the first pieces of clothing i find before making my way to the living room.

“HYUNJIN” i yell as soon as i see him sitting on the couch. he jumps at the sound of my voice opening his mouth to respond but before he can i grab him and pull him back to my room.

“what’s this about?” he asks his voice laced with curiosity. “did i do something?”

“no i did” i pause trying to find words “i- its better if i show you,” i grab my phone pulling up the messages i sent last night.

“i decided to text you last night about changbin because you remember how good he looked at dinner and i think the liquor loosened my lips a little too much.”

he gives me a look of pure confusion “i didn’t get those messages?”

“yeah no shit, i clicked the wrong contact.”

he does a double take glancing back at the contact, “YOU SENT CHANGBIN THE PORNO TEXTS?”

“shut up,” i slap his arm hoping seungmin and felix didn’t hear that.

“sorry sorry, but like what are you gonna do about this?” hyunjin questions rubbing the part of his arm i slapped.

“die probably, i mean its not like i can just talk to him about it he’s my best friend and i probably just ruined everything.”

“you definitely didn’t ruin everything,” hyunjin reaches out as if to comfort me but decides against it last minute because it probably won’t help much.

“he’s gonna think i’m weird and gross and never want to talk to me again” i say while pacing around the room, “i’m just going to curl up and die.”

my phone pings with a text as i glance down at the illuminated screen.

“fuck me,” i say throwing my phone on my bed before falling on it. “my life is over.”

hyunjin grabs my arm pulling me up so i’m sitting on the edge of the bed as he tries to stop me from spiraling “just talk to him and explain the situation i’m sure he’ll understand.”

“you’re too hopeful,” i add before laying back down covering my face with my hands.

“are you gonna text him back?”

“i don’t think i can handle that rejection right now so no i’m not.”

————————————————————————————

“have either of you seen my phone?” changbin asks sitting down at the table and pulling out his laptop.

han looks over at him, “yeah i grabbed it, you left it in my car last night,” he says tossing changbin’s phone over to him.

“thanks-“ he starts but as he flips his phone over to look at the screen he notices the messages from last night.

chan notices the look on changbin’s face as his brows furrow. “what is it?”

“y/n texted me last night.” he responds the confusion present on his face.

“she texts you all the time, what’s new?” han rolls his eyes “you can barely sit through a class without texting each other, it’s honestly sickening.” he fake gags as if to express his words even more.

“knock it off hannie, she admitted she has feelings for me… over text… while drunk” changbin breathes out still in disbelief.

“you didn’t know?” chan’s glance shoots up from his laptop.

changbin whips his head around very close to giving himself whiplash, “what are you talking about?”

“YOU ACTUALLY DIDNT KNOW?” this time it’s han questioning. “have you not seen the way she looks at you, how she constantly wants to be close to you, the fact that she hates physical touch but she constantly initiates it with you. she’s down bad.”

“you think she meant it?” changbin asks, the project they were working on long forgotten.

han sighs pushing his notebook away as he leans onto the table in front of him, “a wise person once said drunk words are sober thoughts and she was drunk out her mind. i mean you saw her last night she literally fell asleep at the table and made jeongin carry her to the car.”

chan try’s to ease changbin’s mind slightly, “she did think she was texting hyunjin and acted like they talk about it all the time. why would she do that if she didn’t actually feel that way.” he adds trying to ease my mind.

“i don’t even know what to say.” changbin looks back at the messages trying to decide what to do.

————————————————————————————

a few hours later

i ignore his messages because i don’t want to make more of a fool of myself. i lay in my bed wondering if i should just transfer to a different school to avoid the embarrassment.

hyunjin left a while ago to go to class he tried to take me with but i refused since i knew changbin would be there.

i knew i would have to eventually face him but for the time being sulking and feeling bad for myself felt like the best idea.

that was until there was a knock on the door.

“who is it?” i yell over not really wanting to get up.

“y/n open the door.”

no that voice, i could recognize that voice anywhere, “please go away changbin, i don’t want to do this right now.”

“y/nnie please open the door,” his voice sounds almost upset.

reluctantly i stand up from the bed and move to unlock my bedroom door, “i know you’re here to make fun of me or tell me i’m weird or disgusting or both. i’m sorry i sent those messages they weren’t meant for you and i shouldn’t have been saying things like that no matter what. i didn’t want to mess up our friendship but i can understand if you don’t want anything to do with me anymore.” i ramble a light red hue paints my cheeks from embarrassment as i refuse to look him in the eye.

“what are you talking about? you think i’m going to stop talking to you because you admitted you have feelings for me?” he asks appalled that i would even think that.

“well i mean i know you don’t have feelings for me so i understand if you find it weird.”

“don’t tell me how i feel,” my eyes finally meet his as he says this my brows furrowing slightly.

“how do you feel?”

“i’ve been in love with you since that day you sat down in chemisty 101. the day you forgot to bring a notebook because it was your first class. you were too scared to ask anyone for something to write on so you sat and just listened to professor kim instead. when i finally noticed you weren’t writing anything i offered you my notes so you wouldn’t fall behind.” he pauses taking a breath as he glances over my face landing on my lips a second too long.

he continues, “i’ve been waiting for you to say you felt the same way because i was too nervous to tell you how i felt.”

a moment passes and i don’t respond, “please say something.”

instead of using words i grab his shirt pulling him closer to me as i kiss him. hoping to express my feelings that way. since i don’t think words are enough to explain the way i feel for him.

after a moment i pull away breathless, “you actually meant it? you feel the same way?”

“of course i do, and i’ll keep telling you until you believe it.” changbin shakes his head smiling over at me.

he laughs slightly before saying, “now about that chokehold.”

“oh god,” i cover his mouth with my hand.

this is gonna be a long night.

————————————————————————————

a/n: sorry for the rushed ending. but omg i finally finished this, if you’re still here thank you for reading it means a lot. love you all -lane

please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission

[ramp-it-up]

Muse: Three

Muse: Two | Muse Masterlist | Muse: Four

Summary: Three's the Charm. Or the Curse.

Pairing: Art Curator! Ari Levinson x Plus sized model! Reader

Word count: 3.8 K

A/N: Muse will be a series of one shots featuring Muse and Ari, and this the second one. We’re gonna hear from them at least every week. 😏 Big thanks to @princessphilly who basically inspired the premise and then endured me being feral in her inbox. This AU is tangential to the Peach and Knock You Down verses. Here I go again. 🤷🏽‍♀️

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Angst and Toxicity. Art Curator Ari. Plus sized model Reader, dating app life, casual sex, toxic situationship, 2 am calls, phone sex, late night texts, 4 am confessions, mean reader, oral (m receiving) rough sex, implied impact play, some guy named Steve ;), masturbation and daydreaming, feelings are flying around, but no one is trying to catch them.

I don’t have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post!

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

--------

The third time wasn’t planned either.

You’d been at a rooftop party in Tribeca, his neighborhood, sipping tequila from someone else’s glass and pretending the skyline made you feel something.  You'd been in Europe for 10 days, all work and no play (well maybe some good wine and good times), and now you were home, dressed to kill and hunting for absolutely nothing.

Not looking for anyone. No one at all.

You wore the kind of dress that made men stutter and women stare, all curve and cling, and a slit so high it epitomized the phrase ‘serving cunt.’ But matter how good you looked, the vibe was off. You were already halfway out the door, bored and buzzed, when your phone lit up.

—-

Someone mentioned to Ari that you were there and his heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t missed you. Not exactly. But you still lived in his bloodstream like a toxin.

Ari: I need to see that O'Keefe, because I’m thinking about how to pitch your pussy wing to the Whitney.

You smiled before you even meant to.

I’ll bring it over.

—---

His place again. Different vibe. Same tension.

He opened the door in a low-slung pair of sweats, shirtless, hair a mess like he’d either just woken up or spent the last hour trying not to text you. You crossed the threshold and flowed into him, your face winding up in his hands.

“You’ve ruined me,” he muttered against your lips.

“Good,” you whispered, sliding your hands down his chest. “I want you cracked open.”

The sex was a war. Bodies tangled, breath was stolen, teeth were at throats, and Ari’s hands left prints on your body that you begged for.

He pulled your hair. You bit his shoulder. Nobody relented.

But after, he asked the question neither of you you were supposed to ask.

“Why’d you really come?”

You glanced at him, a mess with your mascara smudged and your lips bruised. Ari thought you were beautiful.

“Because I was bored.”

It was a lie. But you said it like it was the truth.

Ari nodded once, no smile this time, “Fair.”

You sat up, pulling on your panties slowly. His eyes followed every movement like they always did.

“This is still just sex, Ari.”

“I know.”

You stood. Winked. And didn’t kiss him goodbye.

“Call me when you’re lonely enough to forget that.”

“I always am,” he said, voice low.

You almost turned around. Almost. But you walked out like you didn’t hear it, like your body wasn’t already aching for a fourth time.

Ari listened for your knock longer than realistic, his cock hard again for you and his chest a little hollow.

He knew the game. But the way you left wasn’t detachment.

That was art.

—----

2:14 a.m a week later

Your room was lit only by the glow of your phone You were still dressed, heels kicked off by the door, satin sheets tangled around your legs.

You weren’t drunk. Not really. Just restless. You were annoyed from a night full of people who said nothing interesting, and from hands that didn’t hold a candle to his.

You’d danced. Laughed. Almost let some stranger kiss you. But the whole time, Ari sat in your chest like a slow-burning ember you couldn’t snuff out.

So you called.

Not a text. Not a DM. A fucking call. 

You didn’t even know why you called. He’d sent you his number weeks ago, and you hadn’t used it, only messaged him through the app. He followed you on Instagram and you added him just the week before.

Now he had your number, in more ways than one. He answered on the second ring.

“Muse,” his voice was thick with sleep and something else, something like relief.  “Didn’t think I’d hear from you again.”

You paused and bit your lip.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Same.”

“So you weren’t surprised?”

“I’ve been waiting for this call since last week.”

Silence. 

“You alone?” you asked.

“Always.”

That word sunk into your skin. Deeper than you wanted it to.

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Then don’t,” he said, voice dipping low. “Just tell me what you need.”

You closed your eyes.

“I need to cum.”

Ari groaned softly. You heard rustling, sheets, maybe his hand already brushing over himself. That sound went straight between your legs.

“Are you touching yourself yet?” he asked, voice all velvet and gravel.

“Not yet. I want you to tell me what to do.”

“Fuck.” His breath hitched. “Okay. Take off whatever you’re wearing.”

You did. Slowly. Phone cradled against your shoulder. Cool air kissed your bare skin.

“Now what?”

“Lay back. Spread your legs. I want your fingers where I’d put my mouth.”

Your stopped breathing. He wasn’t even trying to play it cool anymore. His voice got rougher and more unhinged with every erotic instruction.

And you followed each one like a commandment.

He talked you through it, exactly how he’d taste you, hold you open, and suck you until you sobbed. The way he’d pin your hips down and lap up every drop. The way he wouldn’t let you come until you were begging for it.

You could almost feel how hard he was, how close. You were both panting, moaning, and lost in the fiction that felt more like fact. His voice was your undoing.

“Say my name,” he growled, right as the orgasm hit.

And you did.

“Ari...Jesus.....Ari.”

He came right after you, a deep groan that sounded like he’d been holding it in for days. Then silence again. You were the one to break it this time.

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughed softly, wrecked.

Fucking Muse.

“No. Of course not. Just helping each other sleep.”

“Sure,” you murmured. “Just sleep.”

You didn’t hang up. Neither did he. You both stayed on the line. Not talking. Just breathing.

Until eventually, you fell asleep to the sound of him doing the same.

—-----

The next morning. You woke up to sunlight, a dry throat, and a notification.

Ari: Slept well?

You smirked. Stretched. You were still tingling from the night before.

You: Obviously. I sleep like a baby after I cum that hard.

Ari was undone. Hard as a rock at the news that he’d done his job. His job. Christ.

Ari: Then I’m a humanitarian. The UN should give me a medal. Nobel Peace of Ass.

You laughed into your pillow and typed back.

You: Don’t get cocky. You weren’t inside me and I did all the work.

Ari: You like doing the work. I’ve seen how you move when you’re on top. Still think about your pussy clenching around me. Fuck, you’re like a vice. An extremely wet, silky vice.

You stared at the screen for a second, jaw tight, heart a traitor.

You: You’re replaceable, you know.

A lie.

Ari: I know. You’ve had others. But none who make you call first.  And no one else knows the sound you make when you’re trying not to moan.

You left him on read. An hour. Just to remind him you could.

—----

Later. Another ping.

Ari double texted. This was a problem.

Ari: Wearing anything dangerous today?

You: Pencil skirt. No panties. Dangerous enough?

Ari:  The image I just got is illegal in 14 states. I’d risk all of them. Wanna see what you’ve done to me?

You almost said yes. Almost sent a pic yourself. Almost. Instead…

You: Ari, this isn’t a thing.

Ari: If it wasn’t a thing you wouldn’t have called me last night. And I wouldn’t still be thinking about all the ways you said my name.

They all destroyed me.

Your heart pounded irrationally.

You: You’re starting to sound attached.

Ari: More like, intrigued, like I’m staring at a painting I can’t afford but still keep coming back to.

That one hit. You didn’t reply. Not because you were uninterested, but because you were too interested. 

And if he ever knew how often you reread his messages, he'd own you.

—-------------

4:07 a.m.

You woke up for no reason. Your phone was lit up on your nightstand with one notification.

Ari: You’re asleep. I know. Just needed to say this somewhere. You don’t have to respond.

You blinked. Stared. Something in your stomach coiled tight. Three dots blinked. Disappeared. Blinked again.

Ari: I lied. I wasn’t just intrigued. I’m fucking haunted by you.

You sat up, chest tight, throat dry. He kept going.

Ari: The way you looked in that dress. The way you laugh. The way you can leave like it doesn’t cost you a damn thing.

Ari: I don’t want to be a thing to you. But I want to be the thing. And I know you don’t do soft. But fuck, I’d let you break me slow if it meant I got to keep you a little longer.

Five minutes and you didn't reply. You couldn’t. Then he sent another text.

Ari: Ignore this. Delete it. Pretend I was drunk.

Then…

Ari: But if you feel anything close to what I feel….Say something.

You stared at your screen like it might explode. You felt everything and hated that he knew it. Why did he have to know you so well?

You: You shouldn’t say things like that at 4 a.m.

Three seconds later, Ari responded.

Because you said something.

Ari: It’s the only time I can’t lie to myself.

You closed your eyes. Goddamn him.

You stared at his last message until your eyes blurred. It was too much. And not enough.

Your first instinct was to shut it down.

You: You shouldn’t say things like that at 4 a.m. I’m not your salvation. I’m not built for soft landings. I will hurt you.

You hit send. Then tossed the phone aside like it burned you, but it buzzed again and you grabbed for it.

Ari: I’ll take the bruises.

You closed your eyes. God, why him? He was the one that would be your undoing. You hesitated before answering, your thumb hovering over the screen. Then you just did it.

You: …come over. Leave your feelings at the door.

Ari: Halfway there.

—----

Ten minutes later, you opened the door. Ari didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

His eyes were already on your mouth, immediately hypnotized. You grabbed him by the collar, dragged him in, kissed him hard and pushed him down on the couch.

You both knew this wasn’t just sex. But neither of you was ready to admit it.

“Your turn,” you murmured.

And then you dropped to your knees.

Ari froze. He hadn’t expected this. Not from you. You hadn’t sucked his dick. Not even once.

Not for lack of interest; he’d dreamt about it. Fantasized. But he never asked. 

And now, here you were.

On your knees. For him.

His mouth went dry. His dick didn’t. Not even close.

“Muse…” his voice cracked, hands fisting the couch, knuckles white.

You didn’t answer. You lifted your arms and unbuttoned his shirt like he was a gift you were unwrapping. Your fingers traced over every line of muscle. He hissed when he realized this was really happening.

“Muse…you’re killing me.”

You leaned in and kissed his chest, tongue snaking out over his nipple. And he let you. You slid his shirt off, fingers brushing his triceps like you knew what made him weak.

“Shhhh,” you whispered. “’M busy.”

Ari’s head fell back on the couch as his blazing eyes watched you. He was utterly undone. 

“Yeah, I can see that…”

With his shirt off, you kissed across his pecs, then shifted to lick and kiss each of his ribs and over his abs, sinking lower onto your knees. Ari was going to blow all over your face, and not on purpose.

“Oh god…”

“Woman at work here. Trying to focus.”

“Fuck. I am focused.. Focused on you…I just…”

You unbuckled his pants and once free, his cock bobbed in front of your face, completely erect and begging for your attention. 

You looked up into his blue eyes, almost too soulful to look at.

“Looks like someone missed me,” you said.

Then your mouth was there, hot breath ghosting over his cock. He was already painfully hard. You hadn’t even touched him yet and he was halfway gone.

“Been too long,” he muttered. He hated himself for how true that was.

You raised a brow. 

“We helped each other sleep yesterday. Fucked a week before that.”

He met your eyes. His were dark now, pupils blown so wide that the blue had almost disappeared.

“Like I said. Too-- fuck!”

He gasped as you stroked him, him up and down gently, then teased the tip, then slid down again, hands working his balls like an artist.

And when you reached out to lick his tip, Ari forgot how to breathe.

“What were you saying?”

“Fuck, Muse… I need…”

He was done speaking when you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around his dick. In fact, he stopped talking altogether. All that came from him were a series of moans and goans, as you worked him over with your tongue and your lips.

His hands found your hair, grasping gently at first, and then with increasing intensity as you bobbed on his cock. 

You relished every moment, the visceral nature of it. At one point, he tried to pull you off, but you weren’t having it and instead took him deeper, forcing your throat to relax and take more of him.

“Oh my god. I… I’m going to cum.”

His fingers tangled in your hair. Not to guide you. Just to anchor himself. Because it was you. On your knees. For him. And he couldn't stop watching. Couldn’t believe this wasn’t a dream.

You worked him over like it was your job, like you were mad at him for not begging for it sooner. And maybe he was mad too, at how good it felt, at how much he needed this, needed you.

At how it made him feel something close to being worshipped. By you.

“Oh my god, I… I’m gonna…”

You didn’t stop.

You just looked him in the eyes and took him deeper.

And he came apart at the seams.

His muscles tensed, and it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite.

It was a raw, guttural sound that settled between your legs like a brand. 

He groaned your name, hips jolting, and you took it all. And did what you never did. 

You swallowed.

Ari watched, chest heaving, sweat dotting his temples as you sat back on your knees and wiped the corners of your mouth as if you were casually adjusting your makeup.

Ari stared at you.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, woman.”

You tilted your head mock-innocently.

“Was it to your satisfaction?”

Ari didn’t answer, just lunged, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto the couch easily. Then he threw one of your legs over his shoulder as he mouthed at the soft skin on your thigh.

You breathed his name just the way he liked, “Ari…”

“You didn’t think I was done, did you?”

You smirked. “Not even close. You did say it’d been too long.”

His look said exactly how long it’d been.

The talking stopped. The fucking started.

And this time, it wasn’t war, it was surrender. The kind that left you both trembling. That kind that left marks you wouldn’t find until morning.

And in the moments after, when your chest was on his, both of you soaked in sweat and breathless, you whispered just loud enough for him to hear:

“Say anything like that again, and I’ll ruin you.”

Ari, still high off the taste of you, decided to be a smart ass.

“Promise?”

But he knew he couldn’t let you tear him apart forever.

----

The next afternoon, your limbs were sore in that satisfied way, and the ache between your thighs left a lingering reminder that you’d had that kind of night. 

One that left you wrecked, wired, and craving more. You stretched slowly and let the memory hit you like a second wave. 

The way he’d looked at you while his fingers worked you open. 

The way his voice slid against your skin when he called you beautiful. 

The way he owned every inch of you without a single promise.

Ari wasn’t there. But you wanted him to be.

That’s what really fucked you up.

Because you were the one who never wanted more. You were the one who always left first. 

But something about Ari’s touch had lingered. It wasn’t just the sex, though fuck, the sex was enough to ruin you. It was the way he looked at you. That was worse.

Those blue eyes were steady and unbothered, and entirely too knowing that you were far from indifferent towards him.

And that was so inconvenient.

You padded to the kitchen, naked and still wearing the imprint of his hands. Every step reminded you of how thoroughly you’d been fucked.

God, he was so good at that.

Coffee brewed while your thighs ached, the good kind of sore. You checked your phone.

No messages.

Good.

No expectations. No complications. 

Just a memory of the way he’d groaned your name, the weight of his body pressing on yours, the deep, slow thrusts that opened you up in the most delicious way. The way his fingers had curled around your throat, not to choke, just to hold. 

Ari's voice in your ear, You like this? Like being used by me?

He knew the answer to that. So did you, but you’d never admit it.

You sat down on the edge of your sofa, legs falling open instinctively, your fingers trailing down the inside of your thigh. 

You weren’t going to call him. You told yourself that.

Swore it.

But if you closed your eyes, you could still feel his mouth between your legs, dragging your orgasm out like it was a performance piece. You remembered the way his tongue had written his name on your clit, the soft hum in his throat that said he was enjoying it more than you were.

Your lip caught between your teeth as your fingers slid lower, slick and ready, your body already betraying you.

All for Ari, even if he wasn’t there.  

You pressed down, finding that rhythm, that pressure, that perfect place where pleasure bloomed behind your eyes.

Your head fell back. You imagined him there. On his knees. Worshipping. That beard scraping your thighs, his hands holding you wide open.

Your fingers moved faster, hips tilting, breath breaking apart in gasps as the edge closed in.

Ari. Ari. Fucking Ari.

You came with a quiet cry, hips jerking, legs squeezing together as your body pulsed around nothing. No cock. No hands. Just the ghost of him and your own damn fingers.

And when you came down from it, breathless and alone, you muttered to no one: 

“…Fuck.”

—----

A couple hours later, you wandered through the grocery store, hair up, face clean, but dressed in a scowl that was meant to intimidate. You told yourself you just needed coffee, but you knew better. 

You lingered too long by the fruit, fingers brushing over waxy apples, mind elsewhere entirely. When the cart bumped into yours, you looked up impassively.

“Guess I owe you an apple,” a deep voice said.

You glanced up. Tall. Handsome. Short brown hair, clean shaven, fit. Handsome.

He looked safe, the kind of guy who’d text the next morning. The kind of guy who’d ask what you were doing this weekend.

He placed an apple in your basket, a charming little peace offering.

“I’m Steve, Steve Kemp.”

You turned the apple over in your hand, feeling the weight of it, the simplicity.

“Smooth,” you said, lifting one brow. “That line usually work?”

He grinned, leaning in just a little, enough to close the space between strangers.

“Only when the person looks like they’re about to run away.”

For a second, it tempted you, the ease of it. A new face. A clean slate. The comfort of something safe. But you didn’t want safe. You didn’t want easy.

You wanted…something from someone you wouldn’t admit to yourself.

You wanted the weight of a body pinning you down, the sharp scrape of a beard on your thighs, every inch of you being owned. And although you could tell him to try to replicate that, this guy wasn’t it.

You set the apple back on the pile, giving the stranger a soft, practiced smile.

“Not in the market,” you said, and walked away without looking back.

Your body was still beholden to the memory of someone else.

—--

Across the city, Ari sat at his desk, contracts open, untouched. You lived in his head, under his skin. He closed his eyes, and there you were, hips rolling, breath hitching, the taste of your skin still on his tongue, the scrape of your nails against his back still stinging, and the breathy, desperate way you’d said his name still echoing in his brain.

Ari closed his eyes, the memory playing out without permission. The sacred image of your cream coating his condom-wrapped cock tormented him.

His hand shifted, cupping the hard line straining against his slacks. For a second, the idea of jerking off right there in the office to the thought of fucking you raw didn’t seem all that crazy.

He was sure he could get off with just a few tugs thinking of you.

Yeah. He was crazy.

The buzz of his phone dragged him back, the screen flashing with a reminder: late lunch date. Ari exhaled, flexing his fingers once before pulling himself upright. The day wanted him elsewhere. But his head stayed with you.

Muse.

—--

The low hum of conversation floated through Cathédrale, the kind of place where everything felt expensive and deliberately dim. Ari sat back in the leather banquette, nursing a glass of bourbon that didn’t do a damn thing to settle the fluttering behind his ribs.

Across the table, his lunch companion was talking, her voice a smooth, practiced purr that he barely registered.

Poppy, Polly, Peggy. He wasn’t quite sure of the nickname.

She was perfect on paper. Stylish, sharp, bred for black-tie galas, fluent in flirtation, and eternally just a little bit bored. She leaned in slightly, perfume clouding the air between them, her voice dropping to that silky soft register women used when they were about to cross a line.

“My husband’s in London for the week,” she said, letting the words hang there, heavy with suggestion.

It should’ve landed. It didn’t. Any other day, maybe it would’ve.

But all he could think about was you. The image of you stretched out under his artwork, flushed and undone. The way your hips had rocked against his hand, head thrown back, mouth open and desperate. 

The way your thighs had tightened around his shoulders, dragging him deeper, holding him there while your flesh shuddered around his mouth. 

His dick twitched against the constraint of his slacks, the memory more vivid than the woman across from him.

His companion laughed lightly, brushing her hand against his wrist, letting it linger, waiting for him to bite. But he didn’t.

“Sorry,” Ari said, pulling his hand away, polite but distant. “Got a lot on my mind today.”

You were a whole hell of a lot.

She tilted her head, mistaking his disinterest for some calculated game. But there was no game. Not this time. The lunch wrapped up fast after that, her parting glance lingering a little too long, and Ari let her go without another thought.

Because the only woman tangled in his head wasn’t sitting across the table.

It was you.

The one who wasn’t supposed to mean more than a couple of nights. 

The one he couldn’t shake.

His Muse.

------

Muse Four

Are you as wrecked as I am?

[elanorpam]

it's been way too long since i last did wildly self-indulgent fanart, so of course i did it for an SVSSS AU that doesn't even have any actual fanfiction written of it yet. but what can i say! it's a compelling scenario! Just check the original post for details!

here's a workplace doodle for his mess of an outfit, too:

Xin Mo is floating behind his back, wrapped in talismans. the collars are meant to be vaguely inspired on a flower bud.

Some notes i came up with for this version, copied straight from a month-old discord convo:

he may have protagonist halo now, but he's for sure not a stallion protagonist. he literally exchanged fates with his favorite person in the world in order to spare them a hellish trial-- that's romantic as fuck!! damn!! this is old CLAMP shoujo and no mistake!!

binghe may no longer be the protag, but he's still a half-heavenly demon. power-wise, heavenly demons can't be topped, and all the remaining heavenly demons are accounted for. so, SQQ can't be a heavenly demon, even in part.

HOWEVER, as a protagonist, there's a factor more important than power! it's the CHUUNI FACTOR. what's more CHUUNI™️ than being part demon?

one option is being part demon and part angel.

how would that even fucking work??????? IDK man, you can either pull from chinese folklore for fairies or heavenly beings or spirits, or you can blame Airplane and go "he accidentally implied the existence of christian elements by means of importing unexamined anime tropes"

Shen Jiu conveniently has a big fat blank on his parentage. We as fans can and have put whatever the hell we wanted there.

SQQ would jump into the abyss still under the impression SJ was a shallow villain. If his trip through the abyss involves recovering SJ's memories somehow, that sure would be fun times, huh?

so he awakens a mysterious ancestry and survives the abyss and takes Xin Mo, but he probably takes longer than Binghe did due to being squishier.

but Xin Mo isn't ACTUALLY his! so he papers it over with sealing talismans, and to battle the temptation to wield it he takes to wearing these longass sleeves. they're probably covered in talismans as well.

guessing Xiu Ya stayed behind to be mooned over by the clown trio in Cang Qiong. let's go full sparkle-sue here and say he's now fighting almost entirely via musical cultivation. i like swan-necked konghou harps so let's go with that, it'll look dope.

why is he barefoot? why WOULDN'T he be, is the question. fragile!! suffering!! dainty!! he's a shrinking flower, tormented by the weight of the One Sword To Rule Them All!!

also for extra pathos, his constant mental struggle against Xin Mo means he can't spare energy to front. it takes constant focus! he's still a bit in his delusional shit, but even when he's going "oh no, binghe is only latched throat-deep onto my dick because he's a good boy who's concerned about me and the danger i could pose by losing control" he'd probably… well, he'd probably say that out loud to anyone who asked. he's in a half-trance, mentally battling the crazy-making sword. lying is too much work.

Wouldn’t resisting Xin Mo’s influence be the mental and spiritual equivalent to training under 400x gravity or something? his wife-beam is going to be off the charts when he puts it down.

also also: who the hell dressed him like that? fucking shang qinghua, of course, after SQQ showed up in the northern palace to punish MBJ for hurting binghe in the conference. did the system explain shit to SQH? on the one hand, extremely funny if it updates him on the role change out of nowhere mid-alliance. on the other hand, extremely funny if he only finds out because Binghe is crying safely in Qing Jing while the scum villain apparently jumped into the abyss.

Here's another link to the original AU post! I've had it open on a tab all this time just so i could point to it when I was done, so make sure to check it out!

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [32]- Back Alley

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Business partners don’t have to be friendly.

Word Count: 3100

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You were beginning to think that the divorce clause in your prenup was going to come in handy any day now.

Granted you and Bucky had a deal, and you did trust him to hold up his end of the deal but he hadn’t spoken to you, or spared you as much as a glance for almost a week now so you were slowly getting lost in your anxious thoughts.

It was one thing when you were giving him an attitude but him acting like you didn’t even exist?

That flat out made your chest ache.

“Here you go,” Clint’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as he put the file in front of you and you looked up at him, then smiled slightly.

“Thank you.”

“Oh no, thank you,” he said with a huff of laughter. “Rhett is an asshole, I’m glad you’re taking over.”

“He’s not so bad,” you muttered, opening the file to skim the page, then let out a small laugh. “But yeah. I could’ve told you he would reject this even if I offered it to him.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Not enough profit on his end,” you muttered, shuffling through the pages. “And he wants to see every plan you have, A to Z.”

Clint heaved a sigh, shaking his head.

“Well as I said, I’m glad you’re taking over,” he said and sat up straighter. “Nat will back you up, you know?”

You hummed, still focused on the page. “In the deal?”

“As the heir.”

That made your head snap up and you blinked at him in silence for a couple of seconds. He seemed almost entertained at your puzzlement as he leaned back on his seat behind his desk, and shrugged his shoulders.

“She talked to me too.”

You licked your lips. “And?”

“You won’t even try to feed me some bullshit about respecting your father’s chosen heir?”

“Depends,” you said. “Do you respect my father’s chosen heir?”

He let out a chuckle and held up his hands.

“He has done nothing to earn my respect,” he said. “I was willing to give him a chance—I did give him a chance and he fucked it up, as you know.”

You crossed your legs, keeping your gaze on him.

“Arthur is a legend in our line of work,” he said. “He’s the main reason why we have the truce now. That’s why I don’t understand how he made all the right choices up until the choice of heir because that…Y/N, that’s your right. I’m glad you’re making your move now.”

You pursed your lips.

“I’m not sure if it’ll be enough to make him reconsider.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “You have Bucky in your corner, Steve and Sam and Nat as well, and I’m planning on supporting you the minute your name comes up.”

You weren’t so sure about Bucky being in your corner at the moment but you still smiled at him. “Thanks Clint.”

“So the only one left is…”

“Tony,” you said. “He doesn’t trust me.”

“He doesn’t trust Ian either.”

“No but he trusts my father,” you admitted. “He may not like Ian but he isn’t going to go against that decision.”

He hummed, drumming his fingertips on the desk.

“Nat and I will talk to him,” he said. “Let’s see if he changed his mind in the light of these recent developments. Just one question though.”

“Hm?”

“If your father doesn’t change his mind,” he said. “Will you take it from Ian anyway?”

That was a difficult question.

If it were Steve or Sam asking you this, you could answer it truthfully but you didn’t know Clint as well as you knew them. You had no idea if it was a bait, so whatever answer you gave him could change his opinion about backing you up, so you bit inside your cheek, deep in thought.

“I…” you trailed off. “I’m not going to start a war, but I’m not just going to lie back and take it if Ian does. I doubt anyone else would either.”

Clint nodded his head slowly.

“You two are always going to be a threat to each other, he knows that,” he muttered. “He’s an idiot, but not that much of an idiot.”

You shifted your weight on your seat, nibbling on your lip.

“Mm hm.”

“And you do realize that one of you will have to kill the other to get to the top?”

That made your jaw clench before you nodded your head, trying your hardest to ignore the churning in your stomach.

“Nat said the same thing.”

“Because she knows how it goes,” he said. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

You paused only for a moment, an image of you pulling the trigger flashing before your eyes before you smiled at him.

“Sure,” you said. “If it comes down to that, yeah. I’m ready.”

                                                 *

“I don’t understand what the problem is, your whole relationship with Bucky has been nothing but a fight so far,” Becca said as she handed you and Sarah your coffee cups. “I wouldn’t say it’s too big of a deal.”

“We’ve never had a fight like this though,” you muttered and turned to Sarah. “What do you think?”

Sarah shot you a sympathetic smile. “I don’t think it was the best call to hide Rhett from him until that meeting.”

You let out a whine, slipping a little in your seat. “I had a reason!”

“Which was?”

“I didn’t—I—” you stammered. “I didn’t want him to go behind my back and make that deal himself, obviously!”

Sarah and Becca exchanged glances before they turned to you.

“And you think Bucky,” Sarah started. “Bucky who’s been trying to push you to the top ever since you told him you wanted to be the heir would do that?”

“Yeah well, forgive me if I can’t trust mob bosses,” you muttered. “My dad said he wanted me to be the heir, and then what did he do? He took it away from me. I’m not going to let Bucky do that as well, that plan has been in motion for years now, I put in the effort—”

“Should I just text Bucky you have daddy issues and be done with this nonsense?” Becca asked and your jaw dropped.

“I do not have daddy issues!” you insisted. “Sarah, tell her!”

“Your picture comes up when I google daddy issues,” Sarah said with a shrug of her shoulders, making your jaw drop.

“Sarah!”

“I mean if we look at it from Bucky’s perspective, he does have a point in feeling betrayed.”

Your stomach did a painful flip and you took a deep breath, throwing your shoulders back.

“Well you are my best friends so we’re not looking at it from his perspective,” you told Becca, making her let out a small laugh, holding her hands up to gesture surrender while Sarah sipped her coffee.

“Does he at least know you and Rhett had a full on relationship?”

“Was it that bad?”

“It wasn’t good,” you sulked while you and Isla walked out of the building. “I swear if I fail the midterm…”

“You won’t fail,” she assured you and you let out a groan, but then stopped dead on your tracks when your eyes fell on Rhett who was leaning against his jet black car on the other side of the road. A smile curled your lips and you turned to Isla.

“Um—”

“Go ahead,” she said with a wink. “I have to find Bradley anyway.”

“Tell him I said hi!” you called out, already running to Rhett and you threw yourself into his arms, making him chuckle before he lifted you up to sit you down on the hood of the car, his lips claiming yours. You heaved a sigh when he pulled back, then smiled up at him brightly.

“Hi!” you said, your fingers brushing over his curly hair. “I thought you had a meeting!”

“The meeting finished early.”

You tilted your head, pulling your brows together.

“Oh you got rid of him?” you asked. “What was he, a mole?”

He gave you a reprimanding look. “Not in public, baby.”

You rolled your eyes at him, making him chuckle as he squeezed your thigh, still his other hand resting against the hood beside you, caging you in while you fixed your skirt.

“Do you have plans for tonight?”

Rhett hummed. “I have a plan that includes you and a bed, does that count?”

You let out a giggle, pecking him on the lips.

“There’s this party for the end of the midterms,” you said. “Do you want to come with me?”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you alone at a party,” he stated. “Sure thing, I can tag along.”

“Yay!”

“Before that though, have you—” he started but his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out, and took it to his ear.

“Yeah?” he asked while you absentmindedly pulled his gun out of his waistband to check the magazine, humming a song to yourself. “Yeah, no, I had to cut the meeting short. Our usual guys are dealing with the clean up.”

You counted the bullets, then slid the magazine back to its place while Rhett stroked his thumb over your knee, coaxing another giggle out of you.

“Great, thanks,” he said and hung up, making you look up at him as he took the gun from you.

“You’re missing a bullet.”

“It’s inside a guy’s skull as we speak,” he muttered, leaning in to brush his lips against yours and you cupped his cheek, heaving a sigh when he pulled back.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“I had like three energy drinks,” you said as he tilted his head to shoot you a look. “What, it’s the midterms week!”

“Let’s have lunch in bed.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing, Rhett.”

“Should be a thing,” he mused, dragging his fingertips up your leg, making you swat at his hand.

“We’re in public!” you reminded him, making him chuckle. “Anyways, what are we eating then?”

“You’re eating whatever you want and I’m eating you out.”

You tried to ignore the fire spreading over your face as your jaw dropped.

“Very romantic—” you started but you were cut off when his phone started vibrating again, making him grit his teeth before answering.

“What, dickhead?” he snapped at whoever it was on the phone. “I’m with my girl, the fuck do you want?”

“Be nice!” you whispered to him and he shook his head slightly.

“Yeah Lucas, he knows,” he said. “I called him before I called the clean up guys. Can you handle your shit or should I come there and hold your hand?”

You raised your brows as he hung up the phone, then turned to you.

“Sorry about that baby.”

“No problem,” you said “So that was Lucas on the phone?”

“Mm hm,” he said. “He wants to know if my dad knows about how the meeting ended. Anyways, as I was saying—”

“You do realize he wants your position?”

That made him pause and he frowned. “What?”

“Lucas,” you said, leaning back on your palms. “He wants your position as the prince of Chicago and he will try to stab you in the back.”

His eyes searched yours before he scoffed a laugh.

“Lucas is as loyal as a dog,” he said. “What makes you think that?”

“He glares at you the way my cousin glares at me,” you pointed out. “Whenever you’re not looking.”

His frown deepened and he thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“Nah,” he brushed it off. “No way. As I said, loyal as a dog.”

“But Rhett, your position—”

“The only position I care about right now is the one I’ll put you in when we get to my place,” he muttered to your lips with a smirk, making you giggle before he stole a kiss. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

“It didn’t come up,” you muttered. “Besides, it isn’t as if we were serious.”

“You kind of were.”

“Debatable.”

“You need to tell him,” Sarah insisted, making you turn your cup in your palms just to distract yourself. “It’s better than Rhett telling him, no?”

“I guess,” you said. “I just don’t think he likes me nowadays.”

Becca rolled her eyes.

“You two need to start actually talking to each other.”

You huffed out a breath, then sipped your coffee.

“I mean we have the therapist appointment,” you said. “Which, I don’t even know if he will show up but…”

“You are feeding false information to the therapist,” Sarah reminded you as if trying to help you. “Try to talk to each other truthfully, maybe?”

You clicked your tongue, turning the cup between your palms.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Can’t hurt to try I guess.”

                                         *

The therapist appointment was uncomfortable to say at the very least. Bucky kept quiet for the most of it despite Dr. Raynor’s efforts to include him in the conversation, and the answers he gave her were pretty curt, so it came as a no surprise when Dr. Raynor put her notebook aside.

“I’m sensing a tension?” she said, motioning between you two while Bucky bounced his leg, his gaze darting to the clock on the wall before returning to her.

“We’ve had a disagreement,” you said, making him grit his teeth.

“Y/N.”

“We’re in a therapy session and you haven’t talked to me for the last week,” you said. “Might as well.”

“You haven’t talked to each other for the last week?”

“I did try,” you defended yourself and Bucky crossed his arms, keeping his eyes on the table.

“Bucky?”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Don’t do that!” you insisted. “You’re angry at me for some reason—”

“For some reason?” he asked, his voice full of disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

“What happened?” Dr. Raynor asked and you licked your lips, then sat up straighter.

“We’re going to make a deal with a business partner,” you said. “Bucky is angry because I know him.”

“No Y/N, I’m angry because despite us having a deal, you went behind my back.”

“I didn’t go behind your back,” you protested. “Not sharing every single detail with you isn’t going behind your back.”

“You knowingly kept me out of the loop and that’s not going behind my back?” he asked and you threw your hands up.

“Bucky—”

“Do you feel like Y/N betrayed your trust, Bucky?”

Your jaw dropped as you looked at Dr. Raynor. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah actually,” Bucky said. “We had a deal and it turns out she’s had all these plans that she didn’t let me know about. Including knowing the guy—which by the way, you never did tell me how you know him.”

Your heart skipped a nervous beat and you let out a breath. “I don’t think it’s the place for it.”

“I disagree, you were the one who started it,” Bucky said. “So? How?”

You bit inside your cheek, then cleared your throat, motioning vaguely. “We used to date.”

Bucky gawked at you for a couple of seconds in complete silence before a dry laugh climbed up his throat and he ran a hand over his face.

“You used to date,” he said, dragging the tip of his tongue over his lip. “Of course…”

“That’s not even relevant—”

“Oh it’s very relevant,” Bucky cut you off, glaring at you. “What he—he still loves you or something? That’s why he’ll say yes to the deal? Because he thinks he has a shot?”

“Wh—no!” you exclaimed. “Do you hear yourself right now? It’s completely irrelevant!”

“Says you.”

“In case it has escaped your notice, we’re married, dickhead!”

“Alright, let’s calm down,” Dr. Raynor said but neither of you spared her a look.

“How is it irrelevant that the guy you used to date happens to only want to talk to you or make a deal with you?”

“Because I made sure that he trusts me!”

“Yeah?” he provoked you. “And how did you do that?”

 “By being good at this fucking job, how do you think?” you snapped back but before Bucky could retort, Dr. Raynor cleared her throat.

“Let’s continue this conversation in our next appointment,” she said and Bucky scoffed, then stood up to walk out of the office. You smiled at Dr. Raynor, standing up as well.

“See you next week, Dr. Raynor,” you said and went after Bucky, only catching up with him when you stepped outside.

“Bucky!” you called out and he turned around to give you a quizzical look. You licked your lips and stepped closer to him, not even sparing a glance at the bodyguards waiting for him by his car.

“Do you mind?” you asked him, nodding at the nearest back alley and he looked like he would say no, but he still followed you there. You took a deep breath and crossed your arms, looking up at him.

“I was going to tell you about me and Rhett,” you said and he let out a dry chuckle.

“Yeah,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. “Sure.”

“What, you don’t trust me?”

“I trust you as much as you trust me,” he pointed out, making you swallow thickly.

“Don’t be like that,” you muttered. “First you ignore me for a week and now—”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

Even you were aware of the petulant tone in your voice; “You’ve barely looked my way since the sit down!”

“I will talk to you when I have something to talk to you about.”

“If you’re expecting an apology—”

“Oh I know you better than that,” he cut you off. “Is that all or do you need anything else? I’m going to be late to my meeting.”

“Stop fucking treating me like one of those mob wives,” you growled and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not,” he said. “I told you. I’m treating you like a business partner. That’s what you said you wanted, isn’t it?”

You gritted your teeth, glaring up at him in silence and he had the audacity to give you a dry smile.

“Great. See you at home.”

He walked away from you and soon you heard the car driving off. You let out a furious breath, then leaned back to the wall, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them again.

“Very well then,” you muttered to yourself and got your phone out of your pocket, then found the name in your contacts. Your heartbeat sped up as your finger hovered over the screen, but you took a deep breath, touched it and took the phone to your ear.

It only rang once.

“Finally,” the familiar drawl reached you. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t call sweetheart.”

You could feel the smile curling your lips.

“Hi Rhett,” you said. “Do you have a moment?”

Chapter 33

[firefly--bright]

re : the world.

jean kirstein x reader, modern au.

summary ; sasha introduced the two of you as complete opposites, two different worlds. but you'd disagree, especially since it feels like jean creates a new world just for you. warnings ; a little too self indulgent? aka reader likes peach flavoured stuff. also mentions of drinking, nothing graphic. a/n ; erm! haha. sorry for my absence again. i promise im still writing d2d and blooming hearts. pls be patient with me you guys r saints. thank you. enjoy this as i run away. hc reqs are still open hmu babes i lowkey want d2d to blow up a little. like okbambi. throwaway thought. continue reading. thx taglist ; @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @mrsnobodynobody , @hopeless-anti-romantic-again , @jeanscremebrulee , @berrijam , @happxme , @cherrypieyourface , @imgayandshesanime , @moonmalice , @kivernova , @potaho3frog , @xakilicious , @katestrophes , @gojo-ana , @ppushable, @candleohappiness , @zombiefiedskeivy , @1ovede1uxe , @sevriizy

masterlist is in pinned post! ✿ enter my taglist! ✿ headcanon requests are open! ✿

Jean has this habit.

Its not well concealed - hell, you're sure he doesnt even realise it himself, a muscle memory that seems to replay against his tendons, condensing him down to his action. You dont realise it at first either, but patterns have a tendency of making themselves apparent, especially since its about him.

The scene plays out something like this - kitchen lights are warm and shining, clinging onto the apples of your downtrodden cheeks, unheard and tired problems that weigh down your organs now find themselves boring down on your skin, a more physical proof of your labour. The week - scratch that, the month - had been rough. There's a cup of coffee against the palms of your hands, the tips of your nails a little blue from the cold you had just endured outside. Inside, its warm, your friends sit huddled around the coffee table that holds an unnecessarily important game of monopoly. The community chest cards were more than half gone, and Sasha sat with her back resting against the foot of the couch, tongue poking out of her lips thoughtfully, subconsciously. Your eyes blink blearily, steam from your coffee doing the exact opposite of it’s entirety, and Jean mixes just a splash of creamer into his own cup - just how he liked it. 

His eyes have been passing glances across your body, slumped with your back against the marble of the kitchen counter, picking up on something you refuse to be seen putting down. He clears his throat - an opening for a potential conversation, a test to see if you’ll take the bait and turn to him - and when you do, because of course you will, there's a victory that lifts his shoulders and puffs up his chest, muscle memory, tendons tightening. 

But youre so tired. He can see it in your eyes and under them, so when he asks his question, he doest so in the least gentle way possible. So he’ll get you to talk, because he knows that cornering you might be the only way he can get a real answer that lays unfiltered, beating still as it slips out of your mouth. 

“What is it this time?” he asks. His voice covers any unhindered iciness that his statement might hold, making it warm and curious instead of cold and blunt. Or maybe that's just how you see it. Maybe he’s a well meaning asshole who you’re accustomed to, whose language you’ve come to know well. Alphabets memorized.

You sigh. You wonder if your sigh itself could be an alphabet, if he understands all the frustrations underneath it. Your tongue can't conjure up anything else for a brief while, and for the same brief while, jean looks at you. Wholly, fully, more than you’ll ever be, though his eyes scatter themselves across your body. Your nose, your lips, your hair, your clothes, a slight sense of disarray but comfort nonetheless because the disarray meant that you had lived in it long enough and that you trusted your clothes and your hair and your nose and your lips more than enough to be here right now.

“Yknow.” you say, unsure of whether or not its a start of a statement or the end of an unsaid one. You decide to let it linger, staring into your cup until you find the words to say something important, clambering to find meaning that your voice somehow always inherently lacks. Theres a lump in your throat that’s small enough for you to ignore it, and then you begin speaking again, “i don't feel like im… enough for this.” you say. You're aware that it's unimportant, words lacking meaning. They always have, especially now.

“For what?” his voice asks, and you wish his reflection could share the same space as yours in the cup, make his space yours, but he doesn't. Instead, his shoulder presses against yours, which you suppose is better. An anchor, you think to yourself, even though he doesn't realize it. 

“All of it. Like, somehow… i keep trying, right? To be a good student, to be friendly and kind and just… try - like being good at work and at talking and all of it. But i’m not, even though sometimes i think im finally, finally making some progress, it all just comes crashing down on me and i feel so…dumb about it. Like im incompetent. Like all roles are too important for me to get them.”

It doesn't feel like the world is off your shoulders. You wonder why everyone always told you to talk about your feelings; claiming it’ll make the burden lighter. But the process of doing that would include giving it to someone else who’s less likely to have had a bad day and making their day worse by association. It felt like a math formula, another thing you were inherently struggling with.

No, the world feels all too real, all too on-your-shoulders, all too present and pressing against your shoulders, the hurt seeping to the ends of your collarbones.   

“Incompetent.” he says. Its not a reply, neither is it a question. Like he knows exactly what you mean and is contemplating on it. Consider it. Then he shrugs. Sighs through his next statement to make it sound less like a confession of admiration, “you're not incompetent.” 

A pause. You don't believe him, and he knows it. And before he begins his strategy of building you up; he does it. 

Turns his back to everything else. Stands in front of you so he can be the only thing in your eyesight, his back to your friends, to the rest of the world as he makes his attempts to lessen the weight of yours. And surely - and you know he knows it, realises it just as you do - you lift your head up, eyes directed to his, your face pointing to your world, directly to him. In that action, you match each other perfectly well, even if Sasha introduced the two of you to each other as complete opposites. You wouldn't necessarily agree with her, especially not now, when both of you create your own world so easily, with the least amount of the hesitation that easily comes to the two of you.

He speaks quietly. Almost under his breath, as if they are truths that are heavier than his words, “you're not. When you talk, its clear that you're passionate, knowledgeable. Even if you don't realise it. Somehow you convince people to believe in you everytime you speak. It's one of the things i like about you. You-” he weaves his hand into his hair halfway through; an action he only commits to when he’s passionate about the topic he's speaking about, “you could make an atheist believe in god. Maybe because you have bits of truth hidden in there, whatever it is, but you're fully lying if you think you're incompetent. Or dumb. You’re not. You're good. Fucking brilliant.” he says, scoffing as if its a universal fact that youre unknowing of. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west, the earth is round, and jean believes youre ‘fucking brilliant’. 

You blink. Before the gears in your heavy machinery of a brain can move, he says, “i know you wont believe it, so let me do the believing for you. Depend on me a little, yeah?” he asks, like it's a plea. And honestly, you give in, without hesitation. 

His back faces the world and there’s a resolution in your eyes as you face your own world, smiling gently.

The next time is one you can particularly take note of. 

You're at some party that eren was throwing - pre halloween, everyone in costume, the song from the speaker so loud that the ground beneath your shoes was shaking, etching a reminder of tonight on it - a typical college-like event. Everyone was having a bubbling and tipsy conversation amongst themselves, connie and eren arguing over the music that they put on, sasha fawning over mikasa who could be seen blushing lightly even under the flashing lights, reiner with his arm around someone you knew from class - and admittedly set him up with - as you try not to let a proud smile set over your lips at the fact. You had a bet with Marco, another inside conversation that had been had all the way to the party; you bet on reiner finally “getting some” tonight, and marco betted on him not. Which he clarified, was not because he didn't believe in the guy, but because reiner had a way of… being awkward when he was tipsy. Fifty solid dollars over this. You weren't going to lose.

Your head bopped to the argued-over music, scanning the crowd for jean, who claimed he was going to find you a drink you’d actually enjoy sipping on through the night. He knew you well enough, so you’d allowed him to, posing it to him as a challenge that he took with a cocky smile and a self-assured confidence that you were tempted to break.

You weren't going to break it. Of course not. Not unless he won. 

Bert asks you about your plans after the party. You tell him that you’d probably go home with the girls - unless they find their own plans for the night, which, you hope they do - and ask him the same, and he tells you he’ll go home with reiner, unless the obvious were to happen. You shout at him about your bet with Marco because you know your voice wouldn't be carried to his ears otherwise, and he smiles and says, rather wisely despite his slightly slurred speech, that you’d probably win. You tell him that if Marco were listening you’d flex about it. He laughs a little before someone from his class waves him over and you're left to your own devices again, scanning the crowd for a familiar head of soft hair that you imagine far too much running your fingers through.

And you find it. Shoulder the crowd, holding two glasses of his concoction, heading straight towards you, making sure not to spill even a single drop. You applaud his persistence, and he reaches you with the same smile he left you with, eyes sparkling and soft around the edges, looking at you like the world’s been tuned out, handing you your cup.

“Peach sparkling…spirit.” he says, not having had a single thought about naming the drink, but nodding once in satisfaction after it slips out of his mouth. You nod back, impressed, and look down at the ice floating in it. “Ice so your iron deficiency has something to chew on.” he completes with a laugh, one that you playfully punch him for as if your insides dont melt at the fact that the drink is more of a symbol, really, of how much he really knows you. peach , your favourite flavour, to dilute the wretched taste of alcohol. The coolness to keep you awake, and the ice floating at the top just as he said, because you liked chewing on it.

And as if just that much wasnt enough, he does it again.

Back to the world, he faces you completely, now closer than ever. Chest to chest, not because there were people unknowingly pressing your back from both sides, but because you'd be that close by choice either way. He traps you, but youre a willing accomplice, guilty of the same crime, and you create your own worlds with none of the hesitance that you both so frequently carry with everyone else as if this is the easiest thing youd ever do. As if its always been easy.

You tip your glass to his, and he clinks the rim of his cup to yours, lifting it to his lips with the same smile, now softer, gentler, because he knows only you're looking, because he knows he’d let you. 

The drink tastes divine. The completeness of knowing you, fully, wholly, without hesitation, the peach mixing with whatever cheap vodka he could find, knowing just how strong to make it so you wouldn't scrunch your nose at it’s burn but rather enjoy it, knowing you'd nurse the same drink for the rest of the night, close to your chest as it would vibrate not to the sound of the music but to the sound of your quietly beating heart because out of everyone, jean made it. 

Despite the drink's coolness, enough to freeze your fingertips, your insides felt. They felt, every organ - your lungs, your heart, your liver, your kidneys - felt, conscious and whole, flipped inside out and alive. 

Your back to the world, you and jean creating your own. 

Habits have a funny way of catching on, jean noticed, as you made a knowing decision to turn your own back to the world that you knew to be so large and unknown, opting for the warm one that jean hoped to preserve for you.

He notices, too. The first time you do it, its september. Your boots scruff up against the harsh of the pavemented sidewalk, orange and red leaves under your feet, with a cup of coffee in your hand, the one that he happily paid for like it was muscle memory. There could be silence between you, sure, because he knows that even that would be pleasant. But there isnt, and hes glad nonetheless, bringing his cup close to his lips, knowing that yours have touched the same rim to get a taste, hoping it would cover up the small smile that creeped onto his face, threatening to stay against his cheeks for you to notice, because of course you would. 

You finish the end of your sentence. Something about autumn, he knows, and your shoulders are brushing his as they perpetually are, coat against his, and he swears a world is created because of it, the lint of your fabric almost like magic when it presses against his, even if brief, because it cant be anything short of it with the way he’s feeling. Comfortable, whole, significant. He licks his lips, cleaning off the residue of the coffee and tasting the lingering of your lips indirectly on his like a revered devotee, a saint waiting for sacrifice, and says something probably insignificant. About the rain? He’s not sure. And then it turns into, “one time, connie - i think in middle school? Like back when i first met the guy - had his mouth wide open under the sky so he could get a full gulp of direct fucking rainwater in his mouth because we’d just learnt about… the water cycle. I think.” he says, and you laugh.

And then it happens. You do it, and he takes notice, because of course he does, of course, because its you. Turning on your heel, your back facing the world, as you fall into step, still beside him, walking backwards just so you could face him. For a moment he’s concerned - youre not the most synchronised person in the world, he once watched you stub your toe fully on purpose while trying to prove a point of how you’re not that navigationally challenged - but he shakes the thought out of his head as a slew of others fill it instead. You trust him. Enough to be a slight nuisance, enough to know if there was anything blocking your path that your back was facing so you wouldnt stumble, enough to know that he’d find this enjoyable rather than annoying. And then another larger, overwhelming thought.

You noticed. You noticed him doing that to you - turning his back to everything else, willingly, wholly, so you knew his attention was pinned on you and you only - and wanted to repay the insignificant favour.

And then he continues. As if nothing had occurred, as if a world just hadnt opened up and swallowed him up, organs flipping inside out. “And then when i made fun of him, the fucker went out there again, waited for the rainwater to fill his mouth up fully, and spit all of it on me.” he said, your laughter continuing to bubble and pour out of your lips and onto his, infectious as he thought it was, your shoulders shaking, no longer pressed against his, but he felt it anyway. Straight to his heart, his hand aching to cover it because his hesitance was carved onto his bones, but his choice to let it beat for you overwhelmed his tendons. 

He wondered if you knew. If you somehow, in your own way, knew that he’d always hold out for you as a knowing choice. That he’d went out to buy that peach drink for you to mix into the cheap vodka that eren had on his kitchen counter. If you knew that he’d never known what the right words to say were until you taught him a whole new dictionary, a vocabulary he’d somehow been blind to. Hes fluent now, he thinks, because he knows you fully, wholly. A world created and burnt into places, because both your backwere against the world you both knew.

Because jean saw you as his. And he knew - a new vocabulary - that you saw him as yours.

Back to the world, chest to a new one, your steps sync together, smiles the same on your lips as they were on his.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The woman doesn’t say a word as she gets in the car. You don’t either. The tension in the car is like the sound of glass about to break. Each breath is another crack. 

The fourth passenger in the car is your confusion. You’re not quite sure why you’re still there. The job is done, right? And this is business. Not your business. You don’t ask. Questions are a bad idea with these kind of people. 

Rogers drives out of town. The old warehouse is ominous and you’re happy you’re not the one he tells to get out. The woman doesn’t hesitate even as you can sense her uncertainty. You only get a brief glimpse of her as she goes as the car pulls away swiftly. 

He retraces the same route. He clears his throat as he passes the city marker. “We needa talk,” he says. 

“We do?” You eke out. 

He sighs and adjusts his grip on the steering wheel, “look, I’m taking you home. You did your job.” 

“Oh, okay,” you fold your hands in your lap. 

“So, let’s discuss the elephant in the room. Discretion,” he intones. 

You thoughtfully mull the world. As far as you’re concerned, the moment you’re out of the car, it’s all behind you. Just a weird fever dream you can forget about. 

“Not that anyone should ask but if they do, you know nothing.” 

He stares at you intently. His blue eyes are bright despite the shadows, as his beard and hair swallow up the dark. He really is a frightening man. You’re fortunate to be walking away. You know that at least. 

“Sure,” you agree. 

“Open the glove box. Your take is in there,” he says. 

You lean forward and do as he says. You take out the envelope. It’s stuffed with bills. That won’t be suspicious at all. You’ll deposit it a little at a time. Wait, should you accept this? It’s blood money, isn’t it? 

“All yours. I’m sure you can figure out something to do with it,” he says. 

You recognize the streets around you. Your neighbourhood isn’t the nicest but it’s home. For now. You watch through the window as you ponder your deal with the devil. You won’t argue with him but you could always give the money to a good cause. 

He pulls up to your building and you tuck the envelope in your purse. That’s it. It’s over. It’ll just be a funny story to tell in twenty years when the heat’s off of you. People won’t believe someone like you had a brush with danger. You can hardly believe it yourself. 

“I’ll stay here til you’re inside. Make sure you don’t have anyone tryna snatch your purse,” he says. 

You look at him, “what are you walking about?” 

He squints and his lashes flick. He shakes his head, “what?” 

“Who are you?” You ask. 

His lips part and he pauses before he speaks, “you hit your head?” 

“Discretion,” you say. “Remember? I don’t.” You tap your head and pull the door handle, “have a good night. Or, er, life.” 

You shut the door gently and turn away. You let out a breath and march staunchly up to the front door. You sense him watching you but you’re not bothered. It’s over. You’re free. 

You go inside, certain to pull the grate door closed heavily before you continue up to your unit. As you get inside, you let your shoulders drop and hang your head back. No more scary men and hopefully, no more fainting. 

You take out your phone and find it just as lifeless as ever. You have a few notices to keep up your game streak but nothing important. Just an email. 

Wait. Before you can swipe it away, your brain catches the name. You applied to the firm months ago. Please, don’t be another rejection. 

You open it, one hand on your phone, the other stirring around for the envelope in your bag. You carry both through the front room of your apartment and into the bedroom. You tap the email to open and put the phone down to look for a hiding spot. 

You tuck the money under your mattress and reclaim your cell. You sit on the bed and read. It’s an offer for an interview. Great timing too. The sooner you can get out of this city, the better. You’ve seen its dark underbelly. No thank you. 

You reply, drafting your acceptance several times before sending. Content, you stretch out the last of the tension. You feel bad for all those people; the man that Rogers beat in the middle of the road, Warren, and whoever that woman was in the backseat. Still, all you have is your empathy. You can’t do much for any of them. 

The night passes so dully that you can almost believe you dreamt the last three days. In the morning, you’re back to the usual, though it doesn’t feel quite so. You get dressed, pack your lunch, and set off for the firm. 

You greet Geraldine as she unlocks the front door of the office. She’s happy to see you. You’re less than happy to see your desk. There’s a dozen post-its stuck to your keyboard. Each with a name and file number. That’s everything you have to catch up on, all scribbled in Brenner’s tight lettering. 

You sit and stack them up neatly. Brenner shows up an hour later. He’s hung over. You can tell by how he keeps his sunglasses on and goes through coffee like a siphon. 

Neither of them acknowledge your absence. They don’t ask and you don’t mention it. If all things go to plan, soon enough, your desk will be filled by someone else. 

You get through a couple post-its before lunch then check your phone. You have a time and date for the interview. Things are moving along. You’re already fantasizing about giving your two-week notice. 

You’re going to be out of here, onto greater things. Just like you set out for. Well, it’s just an interview. You need to be practical about this. One step at a time. For now, you need to shovel through the pile of shit before you. Fresh air is just around the corner. 

[soo0hee]

Just One Chance

This is part of the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab by @camandemstudios

Pairing — Boo SeungkwanxReader

Summary — while for some valentines day was a day spend filled with love, compassion and roses, for you it was a total disaster. Alone and dissapointed you return home after what was suppossed to be the saving grace for your relationship where you were met with your best friend and roommate Boo Seungkwan. Maybe your night wouldn't end with total catastrophe...

Genre — fluff, maybe a lil hurt/comfort if you will

AU/Trope Info — Non!IdolAU

Wordcount — 3.1k

Warnings — ex-boyfriends being idiots, Kwannie being a jealous and rambling cutie

Rating — PG-13

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

“And you are sure you want to give him another chance?” Seungkwan asked with his eyebrow raised almost into his hairline and his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was leaning against the wooden frame of your door, eyes not straying away for even a second and more than a little displeased about the fact that you had yet again, chosen to give that asshat you called your boyfriend a chance to make up for all the dates he had missed over the last few months.

Yes, months. How you were still able to simply look past all this dicks faults when he had already told you he would change for the, what felt like millionth time, and every single time it left you more disappointed than the last time. And every single time it was Seungkwan, who had picked up the pieces after he was met with teary eyes, hunched over shoulder and the expression of a kicked puppy that had his heart skip a beat upon you entering your shared apartment after another failed night with Nick.

Oh, how Seungkwan learned to hate that name. Just the mention of it made him feel livid enough to want to punch a hole into his rooms wall and yet he would wait for you to come home time and time again with your favorite fuzzy blanket, your favorite cup; a bag of your favorite tea already waiting to be poured over with boiling water, a tub of ice cream equipped with two gigantic spoons and open arms for you to fall into when you needed him to just listen to your angry huffs that, in his humble opinion made you look more like an angry teddy bear then a real threat to society.

Not once had he send you away when you were faced with yet another disappointing night in which your boyfriend had either failed to give you more attention than his phone, flirted with anything that wasn´t sitting in a tree at the count of three while you were sitting right beside him and not bother showing up at all. And even when he hated how the result always seemed to be the same, Seungkwan would rather burn in hell then stop being the person you came to after your failed nights with Nick.

Even if it ripped his heart to shreds to witness you running back to a man that was so clearly not interested in what you had to offer. A man that didn´t see the love, the care, the kindness and so many more things you were willing to give in a relationship. A man, who was evidently not him.

Even then he would wait for you.

“Just this last time Boo. It´s Valentine ’s Day after all and I want to see if at least tonight, Nick can follow through with his promises. If he does, then fine I’m willing to give him another chance but if not, he can finally go to hell.” You sighed and applied one last layer of lip-gloss before smacking your lips together with a pop.

Seungkwan pursed his lips, already having a feeling that this night was not going to be different to all the other times.

“How do I look?” Turning around to face your friend and roommate you tilted your head to the side with a questioning look on your face.

Many words were burning on the tip of his tongue to be said.

Beautiful, ravishing, gorgeous, stunning, angelic and so many more clouded his mind and yet he only settled for a simple, “Good.”

You rolled your eyes at his blunt answer but you also knew that Seungkwan meant it when he said so. He was no liar, at least he had never lied to you about anything and you trusted your judgment and gut maybe a little more then you should. After all, your gut had also once told you what a great guy Nick was.

Seungkwan watched you get up and grab your purse from your desk.

“Do you know when you´ll be home again?”

His question was met with a shrug. “Depends on how the night will go really. I could be back in an hour, late at night or tomorrow morning. Honestly at this point can´t say I expect much.”

‘Then don´t go!’ was what he wanted to say but stayed silent. It was no use. He knew how stubborn you could be and that if you put your mind to something the chance of him getting you to change your mind was slim to nonexistent. And so he sends you out the door with a wave.

His own plans were rather simple. Without a date and no real desire to leave the coziness of your shared home, Seungkwan preferred the quietness of a night in. His companion for the night? Left over Jajangmyeon that was still in the fridge, Netflix and maybe, if he was lucky enough he would find the Soju you had hidden somewhere in the apartment.

The plans were quite sad if you remembered that today was Valentine’s Day but that was nothing that really bothered him. Sure, his friends had teased him mercilessly for not asking out the girl that served him his coffee every morning before he went to work with an extra sweet bat of her eyes but Seungkwan could not remember a day on which he had even once indulged her flirtations. So yes, his plans were boring and Seungkwan was absolutely fine with that.

One movie turned into two and just when he thought his night would be spent alone, he could hear the beeping sound of the entrance code be punched into the lock system before the door opened and you entered the apartment on soft soles. How you managed to do that in the heels you were wearing Seungkwan had no clue.

The man turned his head to catch your eyes and the slightly amused smile was immediately whipped from his face; the “I told you so.” That had been waiting to be said suddenly stuck in his throat.

Fresh tear tracks were glistening on the apple of your cheeks, make up smudged and your eyes still watery like you had stopped crying just a few moments ago.

You dropped your purse carelessly on the floor, kicked the heels away and trudged over to where your roommate was waiting with his arm held out so you could take his hand; pulling you down and into his side where you buried your face into the soft material of his shirt.

Seungkwan didn´t mind the mascara which would no doubt stain the fabric. He´d just wash the shirt the next day when he did his laundry either way.

“Don´t you want to tell me that you told me so and that I’m dumb for thinking tonight could be any different?” your words were muffled by the fabric but could be heard well enough and while the words had undoubtedly something he was going to say, he also felt quite bad that he even had the chance to say them. He had hoped that for once you didn´t come home downtrodden and that for once Nick had gotten his shit together.

“No, I’m just sorry that it happened again. What was it this time? You were out for quite some time?” Seungkwan comforted gently, fingers tracing over the back of your neck where your hair exposed the skin.

“It was fine. Nick was punctual, nice and paid attention and I thought, wow! He really surprised me there. And then when we were about the order dessert suddenly this girl stood at our table. Causing a scene and yelling about what an ass he was and if I’m the bitch he replaced her with as if, and I quote, “He hadn´t spend the last 6 months fucking her every weekend!” Kwan he didn´t cheat on me. I was the he cheated with! It was so humiliating.”

Two things were on his mind hearing this. One, the urge to drive over to Nicks place and punch the lights out of him. And two, tell him what an utter fool he was for treating you like a toy that could be put on the shelf until he wanted to play again.

“I feel so dumb. How did I not see this? How did I honestly thing he was worth giving him so many chance when all Nick did was treat me like dirt?” you twisted your head a bit to glance up at Seungkwan`s face through your lashes.

Pushing back the urge to bend down and press his mouth to the slight pout of your lips, Seungkwan shook his head.

“Don´t say that, you´re not dumb! You were just… in love…” he choked out his last words like they were poison in his mouth.

Somehow his words shook something inside you.

Were you really in love with Nick? Was that really what it was? Or was it you holding onto someone because you didn´t want to be alone anymore?

“Maybe…” you sighed just to turn your head back into your roommate, arms thrown around his mid section.

The TV filled the silence between you with mindless banter which went in over your head.

“You know what? We won´t let tonight end like this! Go to your room, wipe those tears away and wear something comfortable.” He nudged you a bit, words met with a grumble on your side.

“What why?” you questioned and refused to move.

Seungkwan nudged you again, this time harder and you let go to sit up and stare at him as he freed himself from the blanket thrown over his legs and lap to get up. Your arms fell a bit, hands reaching for your own to pull you up from the couch.

“You´ll see. Meet you here in 10.”

Confused but following his instruction you stumbled to your room. You got rid of the slightly too tight dress and opted for sweat pants and a hoodie you had stolen from Seungkwan some time ago. Well, stolen might not be the right word for this. Seungkwan knew very well where it was, he had seen you wearing it often enough and even put it on your bed again after having done his washing multiple times. Ignoring that half of your closet at this point consisted of his clothes.

“Are you ready?” Seungkwan called from the hallway and stuck his head through the door.

You nodded and slipped into your sneakers; Seungkwan handing you your jacket he had picked up from the living room floor.

“Then come on.”

The cold of a February night hit you in the face and you hooked your arm into the man`s by your side.

“Are you going to tell me where we are going?” you asked, still not sure what he was up to.

“Just walk with me. You´ll see.” He hummed and pulled you along with him. You realized that Seungkwan was not planning on telling you where you were going and so you decided to simply enjoy his company.

The night was cold and you were glad you had your jacket on because you were sure you wouldn´t have survived this walk if not.

You took in the neighborhood, walking past stores and restaurants you usually hurried past without paying them much mind when you either went to work or returned from it and only wanted to bury yourself in your bed. They looked cozy, like something you would love to check out sometime soon. Maybe Seungkwan could join you for that and only as you walked further did you realize where you went.

The sight of the water of the Han River rippling as wind brushed over it, on some place close to the shore even frozen from the drop in temperature opened itself and the lights of the city reflecting beautifully on the surface as you made your way to the park close to where you were.

Visiting this place was definitely something you should do more often. The sight was amazing and in midst of the buzzing city, it was a welcoming place of quietness that had something magically to offer. The light of the street posts lighting up the way, bathing it in a soft glow and giving Seungkwan a little halo over his dark brown hair with his muffs on his ears.

You watched his side profile as you walked together, and something inside your stomach stirred.

It wasn´t that you didn´t know Seungkwan was handsome, no you weren´t blind after all, you could see why he was constantly fawned over by your girlfriends or why when he was out men and women were turning their heads to look after him when passing by them. But never had it made you feel like you were a fool for not realizing just how beautiful he was when you looked closer like you did now.

His soft, slightly ruffled hair fell in gentle waves, strands framing his face like the frame of a portray, enhanced its impact. The puffy coat he was wearing almost swallowed him, making him appear much smaller then he actually was and like a giant teddy bear you wanted to hug as much as he would let you.

“You should just take a picture if you plan staring at me all night. It holds longer and you can take it anywhere you go, that way I’d always be with you.” He teased and winked at you.

You felt heat flush your cheeks at being caught in your staring.

“Sorry!” you squealed higher then you had intended and looked to the ground in shame. Seungkwan chuckled in amusement.

“It´s fine. I know I look amazing.”

You scoffed in mock offence and punched his shoulder with the hand not hooked around his arm. He dramatically pulled a face.

“You´re so mean! Punching me when all I’m trying to do is being a good friend!”

“You´re a little shit, is what you are!”

Seungkwan grabbed his heart, acting like he had just been shot in the chest. His theatrics made you laugh freely. It was the first time since you had left the restaurant a few hours ago in which you felt like you were where you were supposed to be.

“This? That smile you have right now? This suits you so much better than the tears from earlier.”

You let out a soft sigh, smile still painted onto your face. Seungkwan lifted his arm, brushing a lose lash away from your cheek as it clung to it. The warmth of his skin seeping into your bones, even if only for one tiny moment. Your heart sunk at the missing feeling just the smallest bit.

“I´m glad, I-” you began yet stopped when your eyes caught his. The lumps in your throat making it almost impossible to speak without sounding like you were going to cry again. Not because of Nick, no. All you were able to think about was Seungkwan.

Seungkwan who made you laugh every moment spend together. Seungkwan who cared more for his friends then for himself oftentimes. Seungkwan who had a soft spot for his baby bookkeu. Seungkwan who breathed smiles and energy and Seungkwan who managed to make your knees weak with the simplest of actions.

Waiting for you to continue Seungkwan looked at you with his hand tilted to the side.

“Thank you, for being here. For having my back…”

His eyes softened at this.

“You never need to thank me for that, y/n. You can always trust me to have your back when you need me. I´ll be there.”

His breath fanned over your cold skin, eyes flickering down to your mouth as nibbled on your lower lip.

“Boo I-“you whispered into the night when you felt his lips on your own. Gently moving against them like he was afraid you´d run away any second before pulling away. The touch was only fleeting. Barely a few seconds and yet you weren´t able to shake it from your mind!

Abrupt Seungkwan pulled back, taking two steps back and away from you. His wide panicked eyes looking anywhere but you and your heart dropped at his violent reaction.

“I´m sorry, I´m so sorry! I shouldn’t have- this shouldn´t have happened and I wasn´t supposed to-“

Quickly you reached out to hold his flailing hands still in yours.

“Seungkwan stop!” you called out hoping to break through his panic but it was unsuccessful. Avoiding looking at you and trying to get his hands out of your soft grip, he tucked them back with little to no force.

“Stop!” you yelled once more and the man froze.

“Stop.”

“But you-“

“I´m not mad.”

“Why not? You should be. I shouldn´t have kissed you, it was a mistake! A mistake that shouldn´t have happened because I CAN`T lose you!” he rambled more to himself than he was talking to you.

Giving him your best –Don´t bullshit me- face you stared at him. “Who, in the ever loving fuck told you that you could ever lose me?”

Seungkwan shook his head, devastation written all over his face.

“You don´t know that. Because if you knew you would run.”

“Try me.”

Staring at you like you had grown a second head Seungkwan stood there not knowing what to do with himself.

“Try me and see what will happen Boo. I bet you´d be surprised.”

He sighed loudly and looked to the ground. Not brave enough to see how your face would inevitably change to one of disgust and rejection.

“I love you y/n. I´ve done so for ages and those last few months have slowly been killing me inside! I- i hate Nick for treating you like you weren´t something to be cherished every second of the day and I hate that you went back to him so many times even if you knew, you knew that he wouldn´t change. Nick was an asshole who is blind to how amazing you truly are. Who never knew how to treat you…”

It was amazing to witness the usually smooth talking Seungkwan fumbling for words. Stuttering like he didn´t know what to say and a scared in a way you rarely ever got see.

“…and if you could give me just one chance to proof that I can treat like you deserve, I would…”

Rushing to cut him off you roughly took a hold of his face to press another short yet sweet kiss to his lips before raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile dancing on your lips.

“One chance.”

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Why Orion doesn't babysit...(

Regulus Black AU

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Summary: There are reasons Orion doesn't babysit. (Based off an episode of Last Man Standing)

Rating :T

______

“That was a nice dinner, Reg. I’m glad that you agreed to speak to me again.”

Sirius said with a grin as he closed the door behind him. After not speaking to each other in years, Regulus had finally approached Sirius about making up. Sirius knew that it was no easy feat for Regulus either. For Regulus Black to apologize about anything was about as rare as seeing a unicorn.

Something told Sirius that you were partially behind the apology too. After you gave birth to Regulus’ son, you had been trying to gently nudge Regulus in the direction of speaking to his brother again. You had been the one to approach Siruis after Walburga died. Apparently both Regulus and Orion were debating on if they should have went along with Walburga or not. It took maybe two months and Regulus turned up at Sirius’ door.

“You’re welcome. Please don’t push your luck.”

Regulus commented as Orion got up from the couch. He was happy to be talking to Sirius again too (even if he wouldn’t say it). There were still somethings that Regulus wasn’t totally comfortable with. You sat down next to Remus on the couch.

“You lot are back earlier than I thought.”

Regulus nodded, glancing around for Oliver. It wasn’t often that Regulus asked Orion to watch his grandson and he was about to remember why.

“Yes, our reservation was moved up. Where is Oliver?”

Orion glanced over his shoulder. Oliver had been one good little boy. He reminded Orion so much of Regulus as a child. It was like seeing the little star of the family all over again.

“I think he went to the lavatory. He’s a good kid. I only had to spank him the one time.”

A dead silence quickly overtook the room. Both Regulus and yourself turned to Orion with a frown while Sirius muttered “oh fuck” under his breath. You turned to your father-in-law speaking before Regulus lost his shit.

“Orion, you shouldn’t have done that.”

Orion shrugged.

“My shoulder is fine.”

Regulus rubbed a hand over his face before counting to ten.

“Father, we never spank Oliver! What were you thinking.”

Orion sat back down.

“No wonder he looked so surprised.”

Regulus started to get loud right away. You gently put a hand on his chest hoping to calm him down.

“Orion, what happened?”

“I told him to clean his toys up. He said make me so I did.”

Regulus growled. This was the last thing that he wanted to deal with. After growing up in a house where he was hit on the regular basis the last thing that he wanted was for Oliver to grow up that way. Normally all it took was for Regulus to give Oliver a glare and the little boy was doing exactly what was asked of him.

“Father, again we do not spank our son. Haven’t you learned from the way that Sirius and I were raised that spanking a kid doesn’t do any good? We don’t want Oliver to be afraid of us.”

“Alright, Regulus you made your point.”

Orion rolled his eyes and moved to take a sip of his tea. He got up and walked over to the coat closet. Halfway through putting on his coat, Orion turned to look at you. You hadn’t said much since a few moments before. Orion wasn’t a fool either. He knew that you were not about to push Regulus when he was angry. No one wanted to deal with that.

“Y/n, dear, may I ask you a question?”

You nodded as Regulus walked over to Sirius muttering something in French. Sirius elbowed his brother to pay attention to what their father was saying. While things with Orion had gotten better, Sirius still didn’t exactly trust his father 100%.

“Does Regulus pick up his socks?”

“Yes.”

You replied. Orion held his hand up before opening the door.

“You’re welcome.”

When Orion was gone, Regulus turned to look at you before shaking hs hand. Running a hand through his hair, Regulus went off in search of something stronger to drink.

“Never again! That crazy old man is not watching our son again! I am about to put dad in a home.”

Sirius and Remus were looking at each other with wide eyes. Chuckling, Sirius turned to look at you.

“Regulus used to hate picking up his socks. Dad let it go for a little bit. When Mum finally bitched about it enough, Dad unfortunalty let Regulus have it.”

Regulus came back into the room with Oliver behin him.

“Sit down.”

Regulus said calmly. Oliver sat down on the couch looking up with Regulus with a smile.

“What did I do?”

Regulus knelt down in front of his son with a sigh.

“Why did you say make me to grandpa when he told you to clean up your toys?”

Oliver shrugged.

“I thought it would make him laugh and he didn’t.”

Regulus nodded as you moved to sit on your son’s other side. You gently stroked Oliver’s hair out of his eyes.

“Oliver, I believe you know that when you are told to do something, you are supposed to do it.”

Regulus nodded in agreement.

“Sorry, son, but grandpa doesn’t find anything funny. Your mum is right, though. When you are told to do something, you need to do it. Now go upstairs and get ready for bed.”

Oliver nodded, sticking his bottom lip out before going upstairs. You gave Regulus a look that said, “do not be a pushover.”

Regulus shook his head before standing up and going back to his drink. Sirius elbowed Remus in the side before turning back to his brother.

“Hey, Regulus. Pick up your socks.”

____

@millies0bsimp @geeksareunique @jessyballet @knreidy1 @fific7 @teletubiswszpilkach @spideyxalmighty @dumbbunnys-safes @dumybitch @readtomeregulus @lucasfilms77 @rogue-nyx88 @marichromatic @i-love-scott-mccall @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @s-we-e-t-t-ea @iluvthe-marauders @woohoney @saramaple @missgorldafirst @stelleduarte @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @bennyberry @f4iryluvy @panpride @haroldpotterson @mentally-unstable-hoe @goldensunshineshit @ravenhood2792 @playmore-zeppelin @authoressskr @knight-of-gleefulness @ell0ra-br3kk3r @livshifts @ad-astra-again @regulusblackswhorecrux @kindestofkings @criminalyetminimal @rubes-xoxo @padf00ts-l0ver @regulus-black-223048

[aloesarchives]

JJK Drabble #2

Tw/Warnings: Fem!Reader, Fluff, Fluff Brainrot, Domesticity, Family Man Toji, Usage of Wife and Mom, JJK Oc added

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Reader: Female, Usage of Wife and Mom

AU: Modern/"Toji Lives" Au

(A/N): I'm back! Well, kinda of. Long story short, dealt w/college stuff and had a health scare that kept me away from writing. Also had a mini burnout too. More is explained here!

Thinking about Toji taking up crocheting and knitting because he saw how expensive yet cheaply made certain items like blankets are made. So he buys a simple set to try it out, following Youtube tutorials and watching videos for ideas. Once he masters the basics, Toji is LOCKED IN once again. Making full on hand-made blankets, scarves, hats, mittens/gloves, stuffed animals, covers/cases, bags, scrunchies, even damn rugs. Anything you ask him for, he’ll make it. This ends up being very practical to Toji because he saves so much money by just making them at home himself. It has to be the premium, natural, good quality type. Organic cotton, wool, cashmere, alpaca/llamas, silk, linen, mohair, bamboo, hemp, all of that. Tell him about polyester or something and he tells you to put that shit back. He buys the premium yarn nearby, locally, or gets them imported internationally. Gets every and any colors because he never wants to be limited when making his projects.

There was a throw blanket you wanted for the couch but it was expensive and the size was a lot smaller than you hoped. The next day, you come home to see Toji making it for you. The same color but better quality and inexpensive, and it was the size you wanted too. You were happy and amazed that he made it within a day. Living off your praise and approval, Toji just makes everything. Since he can’t get carpal tunnel or arthritis, his hands and wrists never get tired from working. Though, his posture does get bad and his back aches from being hunched over. The blanket in your bedroom with Toji? He made that shit with fucking love and care. He actually made multiple ones depending on the weather and season. 

Man has even made throw pillows, regular pillows, water bottle cases, table cloths, coasters, bags, cushions, and made your own curtains. I mentioned before that everything in your home was either made, customized, or renovated by Toji. This stays TRUE because almost all the pillows and blankets in the house are his creation. The blankets and pillows that cover Megumi and Tsumiki’s beds? All Toji. Both pillows and blankets match each other and are in respective colors for the two. Megumi has one at his dorm because it gets cold over there and he hates sleeping in the cold. 

If you are a stuffed animal fiend, like me, you ask Toji to make you any stuffed animal you want. Definitely make squishmallow dupes for you if you asked him. In your personal room/office, there’s a pile of stuffed animals in the corner from Toji that you pluck one from the pile and hold it while relaxing or walking around the house. The ones he loves to make are bees, dragons, whales, dolphins and dogs. And they’re so soft and huggable, you squeeze them all the time. Toji just grins to himself knowing the things he makes brings you and the kids happiness.

Toji “Anything my wife wants, my wife gets. No questions asked” Fushiguro

It’s normal for you to come home to see Toji crocheting/knitting away at something. You either find him in three places at home: the engawa in front of the courtyard and garden, the family room with the shoji doors open, or in his personal room/office. Mostly, he sits outside sitting on the engawa working away at something. It makes him work better, or so he says. Makes his own needles and hooks because of his big hands. Megumi still has his crocheted stuffed puppy when he was younger, still going strong even though it’s been worn down from love. Tsumiki has all the Sanrio characters knitted/crocheted as gifts from Toji.

Tsumiki always wears her hair up in a ponytail, Toji makes her scrunchies in her favorite designs and colors. Her favorite cardigans and pullover sweaters that keep her warm during fall and winter were made by Toji because he wanted to try making outerwear. Luckily it worked in his favor. Tsumiki asked Toji if he could make her a tote bag because she needed a bag for outings. She comes home from school one day to see three of them in different sizes. She has those cute little flower keychains on her school bag and outing bags too because she asked Papa Toji for them. The massive white and blue circle rug in her room is from Toji.

Megumi’s winter scarf, earmuffs, and hat are made by Toji too. Megumi will never admit it out loud but he appreciates that Toji made it for him. They keep him and he doesn’t feel the wind chills nipping at his face. Megumi also appreciates his dad for making his stuffed animals. I’m projecting here but Toji made a set of plush stuffed animals after his shadows. His divine dogs, all of them. Megumi keeps them on his stuffed animal net in the top corner above his bed. Megumi wears a jacket and hoodie made by Toji all year round because of how versatile they are. In general, they’re Megumi’s favorite clothes to wear too.

Thinking about asking Toji to make a present for Nobara and Yuuji on their birthdays. You asked Nobara what her favorite color and style was while Yuuji said he wanted a new hoodie. Toji makes them pretty fast and the two are in love with their gifts. Nobara is wearing her bag EVERYWHERE, and I mean, EVERYWHERE she goes. Yuuji, like Megumi, ends up loving his hoodie that you always see him wear when he’s in casual clothes. Since Nanako and Mimiko grew up with Megumi and Tsumiki, one of Nanako’s cardigans and a pair of her socks are made by Toji while Mimiko only has a random plushie Toji made for her when she was younger because Suguru had to clean the other one.

Not me thinking about how Tsumiki, Megumi, and Mayumi(JJK OC) baby blankets are handmade by Toji himself with their own individual design and patterns. Megumi and Tsumiki’s are still in good condition even though they were lovingly used by the two throughout their whole life. Their baby hats, socks, and certain outfits were all made by him. He keeps them all in individual boxes to not lose them. Gets sentimental and nostalgic that you catch him staring as he holds the small clothes in his big hands. Reminiscing about Megumi and Tsumiki being babies and small children, now realizing that they are growing up before his eyes.

God, all of it is thoroughly well knitted and crocheted that people thought you bought it from a store. “No, actually my husband made it for me. Isn’t he skillful and amazing?” Your friends and co-workers lowkey ask you if Toji is willing to take commissions for them. They’ll pay for it obviously but they want good quality home-made items Toji makes which gives you an idea. You asked Toji if he considered making orders for other people besides his family. He did think about it but he said he would get overwhelmed when receiving orders and packing them up. You asked him if dealing with the orders and packaging them would help him change his mind. So you unintentionally set up a small business with Toji. His shop consists of blankets, bags and baskets of any kind, pot holders, rugs, coverings, and pillows. It runs where one week is for receiving orders, one month is for making them, and another month to send them out. Making a spreadsheet/list for Toji to show what he needs to make. Probably gets finished with all the orders in two weeks or something.

For some reason, Toji wears eye-glasses when he knits and crochets. You don’t know why but it makes him more handsome that your brain rots/short circuits every time you see him working away. He got you all flustered and down bad it’s insane(but absolutely valid). But you don’t understand why he would need them since he already has better vision and eye-sight than 99% of the population.

“Honey, since when do you need glasses?”

“I need it so I don’t strain my eyes when working on them?”

“Can you, like, squint? You already have 20/10 vision. You don’t need glasses when you have superhuman vision, Baby.”

“Doll, just because I have good eye-sight doesn’t mean my eyes aren’t as sensitive. My eyes are still bugged by light, shit hurts and gives me headaches. Anyway, can you pass me the blue yarn in front of ya?”

Megumi and Tsumiki always see you with their Toji. You’re chilling and minding your own business with their baby sister napping away while Toji is working away at a rug because he is bored. Even though he’s been doing this since they were young, the two still can’t get over how their dad can make a king-sized blanket(start to finish) in four hours. Or when they come home from school and see Toji finishing up on a big and long green dragon, turning to Megumi and Tsumiki asking them, “Do you two think your mom would like this?” Or they could be chilling then Toji asks them to try on the projects he finished to see how they look. Tsumiki and Megumi are his main critics, you are too but you aren’t bothered by certain details to criticize Toji’s projects so he leaves it to the kids.

Mayumi(JJK OC) is chilling by Toji as he’s working away, either sleeping away or playing with her stuffed animals close within sight. Being the three year old she is, she sometimes hides underneath the unfinished blankets and pops up from under to surprise Toji. Papa Toji gives his iconic DILF chuckle that has you  GEEKING and GIGGLING like a damn school girl when you get the chance to hear it every time. He just pats her head, calling her a little rascal or princess, then resumes.

I’m projecting once again but you know those cute crochet dolls? Like the ones with the big black eyes, big head, small body, and no mouth? Toji made those of the entire family. There’s one of himself in his iconic black compression shirt, white sweatpants, and kung fu slippers. He added a little scar too where his mouth would be. Then there is your’s, all pretty and pristine with your iconic outfit. Toji getting your colors and features down to the bone. Next is Megumi and Tsumiki, literal carbon copies of their real versions. Toji said Megumi’s hair was the hardest part to make lol. Then Mayumi’s doll is later added once she’s born. The mini Fushiguro Doll set sits on the top shelf of a pristine black display case, next to the tv, in the family room. 

He’s the type of guy you wouldn’t expect to be good at a skill like this then later found out he’s an absolute master and god among men. Toji doesn’t parade around craftsmanship because he knows how some guys have fragile egos. But he won’t shy away when people ask him about his work. Pulls out his phone to show people the things he made with two needles, one crochet hook, and a shit load of yarn.

Satoru, being the shitter he is, tries to tease and bully Toji about it. To which you reprimand and scold him for it. But Toji doesn’t care about dealing with his antics because it’s a practical skill and keeps him out of trouble. Then you remind Satoru that his winter scarf he always wears was made, the one you gifted him for his 18th birthday, was made by Toji at your request. Satoru never wore any scarf because he thought you made it for him. But for you to tell him Toji actually made it for him, Satoru shuts himself up and doesn’t shit on Toji anymore.

Toji loves it when his family uses/wears the things that he made. Usually wears a goofy smile or grin on his face to conceal his prideful yet satisfied self, knowing his creations are appreciated and loved by his family.

Tag List:

@luqueam @ploylulla @tqd4455 @wolywolymoley @captainbabybear @ravenswife

Tag List(@ w/ no links):

@szillx @g0th1xac1d @SleppyAnn @kneelarhmstrung