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namjooningera · 3 months

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I'm unsure if your Request are open, deeply apologizing if I disturbed you.

: Need more yandere captivated stuff, like them constantly clinging to their sweet love, locking the bedroom door at night and only giving their captivated lover permission to leave the room only if they're awake. ♡

mwa, absolutely love your writing.

Their rules - Yandere JJK

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji

AN: the boys’ rules for you, plus them being clingy. A bit of the past and background before they kidnapped u ;3

TW: starving, slight Stockholm syndrome, manipulative

Ahhhh yess requests are open thanks for asking!! (≧∇≦)b

Gojo-

Hes unbearable. His rules are short and simple, but the man himself is insufferable.

He clings onto you, legs around your thighs, head on your chest, while you lay in bed. You try to push him off, but the man is so much bigger than you. He doesn’t move an inch, it was like trying to move a brick wall.

You remember the first time he giddily told you the rules.

“Ok ok listen-“ he said in the middle of giggles, then straightened up his back to look serious but it was obvious he was still giddy.

“Hum.. No touching the stove when I’m around, No watching tv, that’s a reward not a privilege, you can earn watching it. No ignoring me, no sleeping without giving me a kiss or cuddles.”

He hums. “there isn’t much sweet thing…I just want you to be happy.” But his smile is sickly and you know there’s more to what he’s saying.

You know there’s unspoken rules he doesn’t say, like how you need to constantly keep him in a good mood.

When you were first taken by him, you rejected his every advance. Every time he wanted kisses or cuddles or even something simple, like for you to look at him. You said no, turned away, and slumped in bed.

At first he let it go. He was patient. He was just happy that you were there. That you couldn’t talk to others, look at others, and your attention would all be to him in no time.

But you refused this little charade, and you could see him slowly start to become more agitated. It’s when he stopped coming home to make you dinner (the dinner you barely ever touched anyway), and the way you felt like he was forgetting about you.

He’d always refill the things you ran out of. The bottle of water on your-his nightstand. The sanitary items and hygiene products you use. He’d always refill the pantry with all your favorite snacks and sweets.

But he stopped. And that got scary. Your mind was already in shambles, now you were thinking, what if he’s going to leave you for dead? Stop refilling, stop visiting, until you pass away in this locked hell.

Finally, he came home tonight. Around midnight. He never came that late before- it was always around 8 pm or 9 when he was really late, he always made sure to come home early enough to make you dinner.

You were starving, and you peeked from the hallway to see him stumble in, then throw himself on the sofa and then the tv on.

You weren’t really allowed to watch tv. You wonder if you could earn it. You watched him slump over, eyes heavy with a glare. He never really looked like this, honestly he always looked giddy and happy. Happy to come home to you. But now he just looked angry, upset, pissed. But it never seemed like it was to you.

He never showed you he hates you, he just stopped trying- stopped talking to you.

But why did that seem scarier than just straight up punishing you?

You slowly took a few steps out of your peeking spot, to be in his eyesight. Normally he’d be delighted, thinking you came to ask him for something or you wanted to talk, anything really. But this time he didn’t even look up from the tv. As if you weren’t there, as if he didn’t notice you.

That just added to your nervousness.

So you decided to do something incredibly stupid.

You hated his giddy happy side, but for some reason, you missed it know. At least before, the aura of the home stayed light and happy. Even if you weren’t happy. But now, the tension is fucking palpable. It’s heavy, and disgusting. You feel scared to even walk a few steps that’s how heavy the air feels right now.

Slowly you walk over to him. He doesn’t budge. His arms are spread at the top of the sofa as his body slumps back onto the sofa. His legs are up on the coffee table, eyes directed solely to the tv.

You sit next to him carefully. Slowly, you start to scoot over to him, slowly. So that his arm over the sofa would carefully be put over you.

Finally you scooted close enough that your thighs touched, and that your head slightly leaned onto his shoulder.

You were scared he’d hit you, scream at you, hurt you. He’d never done that before but what was stopping him from doing it now? Yes he was gonna hurt you for being stubborn for ignoring him, he’s gonna-

“I missed you.” He said with a sigh, eyes tired that bore into you, his voice was almost shaky, it was obvious he wasn’t feeling well. The arm laying on the top of the couch fell onto your shoulders, pulling you in. Cradling your body.

“You hungry?”

Yes, fuck yes. You’ve barely eaten in the last few days, solely relying on your pantry of snacks and sweets alone to quench your hungry, since he stopped making meals for you.

You nodded quickly and he smiled softly and ruffled your hair.

“Alright- too tired to cook. Let’s just order in ok?”

You nod immediately, digging yourself in more into his body. He smiles at this. You know you shouldn’t be touching him, listening to his dumb rules and letting him control you like this.

But you couldn’t help it. Things were just so much easier when he was happy. You got to eat, watch tv, and sure, you hated touching him, but he was just so warm.

That’s why, fast forward to now, you let him cling onto you in bed. Whining bout his day and how he doesn’t have enough time with you. How if he could just open your rib cage and snuggle inside, stay warm and with you forever he would. You think he’s crazy, weird, gross, but you don’t comment on it. You let him think your okay with all this, you let him nibble on your collarbone and let him whisper how he’s never gonna let you go, how your his for life and how he loves you like none before.

He’s warm. You notice. You notice his heartbeat, his breath on your collarbone, his eyes full of hearts and swelling with love. The way he huffs every time you slightly move away.

“H-hey umm I need to use the toilet can you move-“

“Can I come?”

Oh god.

Geto-

His rules were unknown honestly. He didn’t outright say any, he wanted you to think you had freedom. Like you weren’t being held hostage in his home. As if you were just his lover living with him. Like you had free rein.

As if he didn’t lock the bedroom door every night, thinking you were fast asleep. Like he didn’t keep track of every time you used the restroom, the shower, did your skincare and ate. As if he didn’t have those times and dates and stamps of every time you did so, so he could keep track of every little thing you did.

He wanted you to be happy and free in your home, he called it. After it all, he built it on all your necessities, all the things you use and like, so it is your home. It was made for you.

But there are the unspoken rules.

He hates when you get up from bed in the night, to go use the restroom. He wakes up in a jump, eyes wide and exploring the room, his hands roughly shoving the blankets off the bed to see your not there.

He panics. And he knows he shouldn’t. There are alarms everywhere, he has a tracker on you, he knows when you leave and when you stay and where you are at all times. He gets up quickly however, feet scampering to the bathroom door where he knocks on it slightly, asking you to come out.

He’s always been an okay-amount of clingy. But he panics a lot. He doesn’t show it- but he does. He thinks you’ll leave, you’ll die- or something. Maybe someone else will snatch you- a “monkey” or some curse. He’s seen the real world he knows how dangerous the average person can be so could you imagine blood thirsty curses? Ready to swipe your small body at any second and have you for a second dinner?

He’d never let that happen.

And he wants you to reassure him. He won’t ask for it but he needs it. Desperately. Tell him you won’t leave, you won’t die, that your safe- that he’s safe. That you’ll be together forever.

But you don’t. Because you hate him.

You use to, when you two were actually friends- no, best friends. You’d tell him all the time that he was safe with you, that your his best friend and you’d make sure that the both of you live a long and healthy life- together.

And that’s what stayed in his mind. Why’d you break your promise? Why’d you have to stop telling him these sweet things? Is it not true anymore? Are we not safe? Are you gonna leave- be taken away? Don’t leave.

He wakes from a bitter nightmare that same night. A treacherous feeling crawling his spine, panic in his eyes and his body thrashing. He looks at you. His sweet Angel. You could never do him wrong. But he needs your comfort, your reassurance.

“Angel? Angel wake up, please.”

You refused to, ignoring his please. The truth is, his panicking in his sleep woke you long ago, but you didn’t want to wake him up from his little nightmare. You perhaps wanted him to suffer just a little longer.

“Angel? P-please just..”

You rolled your eyes, body facing away from him on your side, still faking your sleep. He could deal with this on his own. You know one of his huge rules was to comfort him and nurse him like you used to- one of his unspoken rules. You know this because just a day after he kidnapped you, he came home with what he called “monkey blood” all over him.

He wanted you to clean him. Tell him to stop calling humans monkeys. He wanted you to bring him back, to keep him from the evil that plastered his mind. Because you were the only one who kept him a clear head, that kept him sane and on earth. Otherwise, who knows what he’d be now?

That day, when you didn’t comfort him, the day after he kidnapped you, he became desperate. Begging you almost, but then he stopped. Like a cloud of indifference and anger covered his eyes and he grabbed you by the arm, pulling you into a closet and locking you in.

You screamed, yelled, begged him to let you out. You went through all stages of grief basically, angrily screaming, then begging, tearing up, then calming down and crawling into a little ball in the corner of the closet. It was dark, cold, miserable. Dust got in your hair and eyes, you tried to dust it away with your hands but you felt so dirty. You just hoped he’d let you out soon.

He only left you for an hour or two- you don’t really remember. He didn’t wanna be too harsh on your first punishment. He still loved you after all, you were just being a brat. But then he dragged you out and sat you down at the dinner table. He acted like nothing was wrong, smiling at you and picking up a spoon of the food he made. He put it to your mouth, trying to feed you. You shook and trembled. You knew you couldn’t say no, or who knows how long he’d keep you in that damn closet? At least you’re free now right? You ate the food off his spoon, and let him feed you for the rest of dinner.

He was so incredibly happy that you were obeying him so early in the “relationship”, that he didn’t put you back into the closet, but instead let you watch tv. Of course, not without him sitting under the couch, while you sat on the sofa with your legs dangling on his shoulders, brushing his hair and braiding it like you did when you two were best friends. Before things changed.

“Angel please, I need you.” He almost whimpered.

You sighed, and got up, turning your body to him. “What was the dream bout this time?”

He’s always had nightmares, about different things. When you were best friends, he refrained from telling you them. Just wanted you to tell him it was okay, he just wanted to hear your voice and be lulled back to sleep.

Now he won’t shut up about them. Shameless, you think.

“Oh Angel.” He pulls you into his chest, a very much unwanted hug, one hand on your head and the other wrapped around your waist, he pulls the covers back on top of the both of you.

“It was terrible. You were hurt, my dear. Don’t you see why I have to keep you? You hurt- that would destroy me, my love.”

His words disgust you, but what really disgusts you is the way you know he isn’t lying. You can hear the genuine concern in his voice, that he genuinely thinks this is helping you, not just for his own selfish desire.

“Oh Angel, if you left- I wouldn’t know what to do.”

And that scares you. That scares you because he knows damn well you can’t leave. The cameras, the security, the alarms and the tracker. The way he tightly holds you as if your going to disappear into thin air. The way your almost out of oxygen with the tight hold, your chest and ribs being smushed against his. You could feel his heart beat, you could feel it trying to pounce out his rib cage.

“I won’t leave.”

What you meant to say is that you can’t leave, there’s no way for you to anyway, but you glance up at him and see that what you said was the right thing to say, a smile adoring his lips as he kissed your head softly.

“My sweet Angel. You always know what to say.”

Or you just know what he wants to hear.

Nanami-

Nanami had so many rules, regulations, all these things you had to remember.

“You need to ask me permission for certain things. Entertainment is a privilege you’ll be rewarded with. I have books and art supplies you’ll be using before screen time. Healthy snacks only- with the exception of dessert after dinner. You don’t get dessert if you’re being bad.”

He sits on the coffee table in front of you, wearing his work clothes, a nice suit and some goggles in his hands. You sit on the sofa in front of him, arms crossed in your chest out of anger but you listen anyway.

“The better you are the more freedom you have, my dear. I’d never want to take away the things that make you happy, but I can’t stop myself if your being bad. I want you in bed by midnight, or you sleep when I do. If I’m late from work and can’t make dinner I’ll send some- you’re not allowed in the kitchen until you get the privilege of it. You have a pantry full of snacks and healthy foods, and a water dispenser until I can come home and make dinner. I will make breakfast every morning.”

His damn rules and regulations go on forever, but at least you know what will make him upset and what won’t.

“Once you can prove your a good girl/boy, I’ll provide you with more electronics for your own entertainment, but screen time will be limited. I expect you to keep up with your hygiene and get enough sleep, eat well and continue your hobbies. I’d like you to greet me in the morning before I leave and at night when I come home- obviously this rule varies on the circumstances of the day.”

You sigh, further sinking into the sofa as he talks you down further.

“In the future, I expect goodbye kisses and greetings. If you ever need anything you just need to ask me. If you’re thinking on picking up a new hobby, you want new clothes, different snacks- I expect you to tell me. And lastly, you are never allowed to go to sleep angry. I know this situation isn’t ideal, but I never want to argue before bed, and sleep angry with each other. We need to hash things out everytime, I don’t think it’s fair to each other, otherwise.”

You just nod, half the things going over your head but you know you should agree.

“Alright I’ll be home early today, okay? Goodbye my dear.” He gets up and stands near the door, waiting.

You look up at him from the sofa, then realize what he’s waiting for.

“Just leave.” You say upset, curling up into the sofa. He frowns, but leaves anyway, waving goodbye.

He had just kidnapped you. What was it the second day? He abducted you last night. Let you in on all the fun rules today.

Great.

Honestly, you’re still freaking out in your head a bit about all this. At first you thought it was some curse disguised as him, but you could sense his cursed energy was all him. No trickery, no fakes, it was him. He fought so hard but you were no match for him.

You definitely could have been, and that makes you laugh. You really could have. But he’s been watching you since high school. Watching your techniques, your moves, the way your body sways in fight and the way you dodge. The way you attack, everything. You’ve fought him plenty of times to train and for fun. You never thought- you never once thought he’d use it against you.

That he memorized your every move, adapted, the way he knew exactly what way you’d fight back, what way you’d dodge what way you’d try and escape.

How could he?

You were so upset, so betrayed. It hurt so much. You curled into yourself, upset, thinking bout the way he basically took advantage of you as friends. You thought you were fighting beside him, were you really just fighting him all along?

That day he came home, and saw you laid out on the couch, dried tears on your cute pink cheeks, your body curled to protect yourself, fast asleep.

He smiles at you, but it’s a soft sentimental one, one that has a hint of sadness.

He didn’t want to hurt you. Genuinely. But he couldn’t help it. Every year, being thrown into a friendzone, every year his obsession for you grew, he wanted you as his wife not best friend, every year he saw himself grow older- and was scared. What if he grew too old to get married? To have a family? Each year you showed the same care you should your friends, nothing grew into sweet love for him, and that scared him. In high school, he waited. Hoping that you’d mature and grow to love him. He stayed by your side hoping he wouldn’t have to do anything drastic.

But the time passes anyway.

And you didn’t seem to change.

And he carries you to your bed, their bed. The bed you share. When he places you down he caresses your head and hair, you kick him away in your sleep and that hurts him so deeply. He locks the door, sits on your bed and watches you. He had to do this. Don’t you see?

The way you would smile at him, laugh with him, love his seriousness and fight beside him. He loved that all about you. You two were meant for more then a measly friendship right?

He pulls you to him in your sleep, cuddling your unconscious body, snuggling his face into your nape and softly pecking your collarbone. He smiles at the way you whine in your sleep, trying to push him away and stop being smothered.

But he loves to smother you- he won’t stop. He lays almost on top of you, head in your nape, as he softly caressed your waist and hips, pecking your collarbone, smiling dazedly, almost drunk, off the cute sleeping sounds that leave your mouth, the breaths that leave your nose, the soft heaving of your chest.

He loves how domestic this is. His wife/hubby, his adorable lover and partner. His equal and forever. He believes that you two have always been together, that you’ve always cared for him as much as he cared for you- you just don’t realize it.

He eyes become heavy. Being in your arms (not that you were trying to keep him there), reminds him how relaxed he feels in them, that they make him drowsy and almost high off the feeling. His body almost slumps over, un-tensing. He had a long day of work. It was nice to come home to his loved one, to be in your arms, to be held and to hold.

If he could stay like this forever, the time not continuing, just you and him in a warp of space where time doesn’t exist, where you could be one. Where he could cherish you and spoil you forever and ever- reliving the lovely memories from when you were young.

A smile softly sets on his face as he falls asleep snuggled to you, he thinks, that he doesn’t need to live in the past. You two can make new memories, better ones. Memories, where you actually love him, not just as a friend, but as a lover.

His lover.

Toji-

He didn’t really have rules for you. He didn’t care too much about physical affection, sure he liked the average kiss on the cheek before he left to assassin some idiot. He wanted your attention obviously, but he didn’t mind you being a brat and never giving it to him.

“Alright I’m going to work.” He’s waiting for you. He’s waiting for you to run up to him and kiss his cheeks, tell him you love him, at least wish him goodbye. He felt desperate. Sad. He wanted you to just- why are you being so bratty?

“I’m going to work.”

He’s at the door, hand on the handle. You’re sitting on the couch. He lets you watch tv, sometimes he’s happy when you accidentally come across the news channel and see all the disgusting shit on the news, all those disgusting heinous crimes. Maybe someday you’ll see those and understand. Know that he did this all for you, it’s all for your own good. As cliche as that sounds.

“Im going-“ “Ok I get it!” You basically yelled.

He seemed startled. That’s when he starts to wonder if he was giving you too much freedom. You yelled at him. How could you? You want him gone, you want him to leave.

Alright he’ll give you what you want.

That day he came home, and cleared out the pantries and locked up the fridge. He left the next morning, telling you he had some mission that’ll last a few days. You just shrugged at him like normal, pretty happy you’d get a break from him.

But you didn’t realize his plan. His stupid crazy fucking smart plan. You opened the pantry. Nothing, just a few things you can’t really eat. Like a half full jar of peanut butter, uncooked pasta, some can of tuna. You opened the other drawers and cabinets. Condiments only basically. Salts and spices. But where was the food? Ok, it’s fine. You’ll cook something, grab some things in the fridge- wait what? Why was there.. a lock? Why’s it locked? It was never locked- oh. He did this. This is your punishment.

No, you’ll take it. If he wants to be an ass- you’ll just be even pettier and go with it. Then he’ll know not to test you right? He’ll essentially get worried that your not eating, then go buy more food and unlock the fridge.

Boom. Great plan right? Wrong.

Your stomach growled. It was what, the third day in to not eating? You thought you had more resistance then that- that you could hold back for longer. But no, your stomach was in pain and you felt yourself growing weaker.

You felt yourself getting desperate.

You decided to emergency call Toji. He had one attached to the security, where you could only call him, if ever an emergency while he wasn’t home.

You went up to the little screen on the wall next to the door, an iPad connected to all the security, well only he could access that part. What you could access, is the emergency call. But before you pressed the button to call you stopped yourself. Fuck you were hungry, but you couldn’t give in. Plus you knew he was angry. He wouldn’t just give in.

You needed to sweeten him up. You knew that he won’t just give in if you ask for food.

You slightly press the button, hearing it ring for a second before he picked ul and answered.

“What?”

Normally, he’d be asking if your okay, if you needed him, what’s the emergency. You know, all that. When he was actually worried. You gulped.

“O-oh! Yeah I called because I umm.. I miss you?” Yeah, not so convincing.

“Yeah, doll?”

“..yeah. When you coming home?”

“I don’t know.”

… He’d never answer like that before. He was being so dry? What was his plan? But then, the hunger, the dizziness, the weakness in your bones- you started to overthink. You started to think that perhaps he wasn’t coming home. He was going to leave you forever in this locked cage, alone, to die. And then you thought, what if his mission is going bad? And that’s why he isn’t being clear? What if he really doesn’t know when he’s coming home because where he is, is so dangerous he isn’t sure if he even will come home?

But if he dies, you die. If he dies, you die. If he dies you die if he dies you-

“TOJI please! Please please come home I can’t- I can’t be here alone anymore- I need you. Please Toji don’t die-“

“Die? Doll? What’s wrong?”

You start to sniffle, thinking about your own death. Thinking about different ways you’d die out, and all leads to one- alone. You didn’t wanna starve to death alone. You couldn’t.

“P-please? Come home? Miss you..” the genuine upsetness in your voice seriously surprised him.

“Ok doll. I think I can get home by tonight ok?”

“Toji?” You ask softly, sniffling.

“Yeah doll?”

“I feel so sick.” You whine, clearing your throat.

It’s like you could feel him smile from the other end. “Alright doll, don’t worry, m’ coming home soon. I’ll bring you some things on my way back. Kay?”

You nod, even though you know he can’t see you nod, he chuckled over the line as if he did.

This time, when he comes home, grocery bags in hand, you run up to him to greet him. Never like you used to.

It’s funny, you almost jumped on the man, you almost hugged him, you stopped yourself before you could, your mind reminding you that he’s your captor. That you hate him, that he tricked you and he’s evil and- oh but he’s so warm. You haven’t felt physical affection for so long. And he’s just so big like a cuddly bear. And you just- you can’t have him leave again okay? This isn’t fault. You’re not about to hug him because you want to, okay? It’s just.. you don’t want him to starve you again ok? Really it’s not because you.. you think he’s so cuddly. You think he’s so warm and inviting. And you could smell the food wafting from the bags he held- did he buy takeout? Oh my god- and from your favorite fucking place-

You softly put your hands around his waist, head on his chest, just holding him gently, scared that perhaps that wasn’t him but some figment of your imagination.

“Oh sweeeheart, you missed me that much, hm?”

You just nod, feeling disgusted but oh so satisfied. You don’t wanna look at him, you know you’ll be met with some smug smirk, that smirk showing that he knows he won, that now, you won’t exactly take him for granted.

“I brought take out cmon.”

Tehe I’d let them take me 😋 anyway, thank you sm for the ask! Requests are open yall! Also feel free to give me commentary! I don’t rlly write so 😭

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upsidedownmvnson · 1 year

Text

you can take it | eddie munson smut

summary: eddie gets jealous at a gig and reminds you exactly who you belong with :)

warnings: dacryphilia, just pure filth, rough sex, daddy kink, name calling in bed, jealous boyfriend, shy!reader, voyuerism

You really were innocent in the whole situation.

You were at The Hideout, watching your boyfriend Eddie perform. You sat alone at the bar, sipping on something sweet and fizzy the bartender made you, on the house.

Someone approached you, introducing himself as Eric. He didn't leave when you mentioned you had a boyfriend, but he didn't make any moves on you either, he was just speaking to you, so you didn't feel concerned about it.

The only rule you and Eddie had about hanging out with other people is as long as they're not into you, it's totally fine. Because usually, Eddie is a pretty level headed guy, especially when it comes to you. He loves you, and trusts that you love him, and only him.

However, there are a few people that push Eddie's buttons just by existing. You knew about Jason Carver, but who you didn't know about was Eric Heely, lead singer of Hotels of Fire, another band that frequents gigs at The Hideout. And an industrial pain in Eddie's ass.

And now, he was leaning against the bar talking to you while Eddie played the rest of his show.

And Eddie was getting pissed off.

He didn't like the idea of this guy talking to you, but what he really hated was that this guy was using you to get a rise out of him, and worse yet, it was fucking working. Eddie's neck was getting hot, and he'd long lost his usual grin. Instead, it was replaced with a tight scowl, a really annoyed grimace that probably would've signalled something was wrong if you would just look at Eddie.

But no, you were talking with Eric, sipping on your drink. He could tell from there that you weren't doing anything wrong at all. You saw the best in people, and if you had said you weren't interested, you would trust the other person to take that as an answer. But Eddie knew better. Eddie knew that Eric wasn't just trying to make a new friend, he was trying to ruin Eddie's night.

By the time you realized you were in trouble, it was far too late. Eddie had already decided that you needed to be taught a lesson.

And once you're in hell, only the devil can get you out.

You noticed Eddie's grimace, and put two and two together when you saw your new friend waving at Eddie, smug smile on his face.

"Do you know Eddie?" you asked, growing suspicious.

"Oh yeah," he said, making sure Eddie was looking at him before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "We go way back."

You reacted quickly, getting out of your chair and smacking that guys hand away from you. You were clearly telling him off, but Eddie just wished you would get away from that guy.

Eddie, still not angry with you, was fuming. Eric had touched you. He touched you without your permission, and you felt uncomfortable, Eddie could see that. The music turned aggressive, and his bandmates could see the scene unfolding in front of them, and they didn't know what was going to happen.

After cutting the song short, Eddie announced their set was over.

His friends looked at each other questioningly, as there was still supposed to be another few songs, but they wrapped up anyway, unplugging their instruments and beginning to disassemble. Eddie threw the van keys to Gareth, and didn't say a word as he rushed over to 'save' you.

You met Eddie halfway, trying to assure him that you didn't do anything. Eric was behind you smirking at the damage he'd done to Eddie's mood.

"Baby," he cooed, rubbing your arms. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at him." Eddie nodded over to Eric, and followed up by flipping him off. "Go over with Gareth, okay? I wouldn't trust this guy near your drink." Eddie plucked the beverage out of your hands, and while he doubted that Eric did anything to it, he just wasn't willing to risk it.

Eddie stormed over to Eric, and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

"If you ever lay your hands on her again, I will kill you. Do you understand that? I will kill you."

"Death threats? Eddie, don't you think you're being a little dramatic? She was totally into it."

"If you interpret recoiling as into it, you're a predator." Eddie had to get out of here before he did something he would regret. Before he got the band barred from the only place they could find to play. "Stay away from us."

"Whatever, freak."

Eddie let go of Eric's shirt, turning on his heel and focusing on just getting back to you and calming down. Was he mad? Jealous? Pissed off? Yes, yes, and yes.

"Eddie?" you asked, as he approached you, but he didn't answer, just grabbed your hand and pulled you close, closing the gap between you and laying a big, fat kiss on you in front of everyone. You melted into him, not really caring who saw. Eddie loved pda, always had, loved showing everyone that you were his, and he was yours.

Hid hands wrapped around your waist, holding you as he leaned into you, bending your back and forcing your chest into his. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, taking in the intoxicating smell of him. Eddie, sweat covered and sexy.

"Eddie," you mumbled against his mouth, "let's pack up and just get out of here," you said, pulling away from him finally.

"Yeah," he agreed, "good idea."

And you could see the fire in his eyes. You could feel the way he tried to push into you. You were in trouble, but you weren't scared, you were excited.

"Are you ready to help us pack up?" Jeff asked, "or would you just like us to watch you make out some more."

"No one was forcing you to watch," Eddie said, his tone level and casual. None of his usual joking manner. "I'll bring the van around."

Eddie pulled you behind him. He wouldn't be letting you alone with that guy fucking lurking around. You were guided out the back door, and through the dark parking lot behind the bar. Eddie always parked in the same corner, far enough away from the door where he could secure a quick deal or two during his shows.

Even through the rage, you thought he was being a perfect gentleman by opening the passenger side door for you, but you should've known better. In this mood, you should've expected him to be dirty, dirty, dirty...

When you moved to get in, he pushed you down, bending you over the seat. With your ass in the air, he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties down to your knees, immediately smacking your ass three fast times. It stung, the sudden intrusion of pain was a delightful surprise. He groped your ass for a second, mumbling something about it being his.

"I fucking love this ass," he muttered, sliding his fingers down through your already soaking wet folds. "And this pussy."

Two rough fingers found your clit, rubbing small, quick circles around the little bud.

"I need to get you home," he said, plunging those fingers inside you. "Like, right now."

"We should h-help pack up," you said, only to be met with another smack on your ass from his free hand. He wasn't holding you down, you could've easily asked him to stop and he would've. But you didn't want to. And he knew that.

"Just need a minute," he said, falling to his knees. The concret scraped his knees, but he didn't care. He needed this to calm down. Then he could go pack up and get you home and deal with the rest of his frustrations. "Jus' a little taste," he whispered, leaning forward and diving into your pussy like it was the cure to all his problems. Which it kind of was, honestly.

One hand was gripping your thigh, right where it met your ass, holding it open so he could lick, and suck and just taste you. The other hand, slid around you to rub slow circles on your clit again, but not enough to get you off. He didn't want to overwhelm you already, and he definitely didn't want you to cum yet.

"Eddie," you moaned, biting your hand to keep quiet. "They're waiting for us."

"Don't care," he mumbled, continuing to eat you out, right there in the parking lot. It wouldn't be the first time you'd done something here in the parking lot, but it was the first time where you weren't hidden inside the van.

"Eddie," you moaned, as he licked up your slit and dipped into your tight little hole with his tongue, before pulling away entirely, letting the cool breeze blow across your wet centre, and you whined, wishing he would continue. He laughed, leaving your clit behind to grip both your ass cheeks in his calloused hands, the rough fingers felt amazing against your soft skin. He bit one of your ass cheeks, and kissed the other. And then slapped both at the same time.

And you got ready for him to fuck you. But instead he tucked his erection into the band of his jeans, and pulled your panties back up. He fixed your skirt, and then guided you to sit in the van.

"You're so good," he mused, his bad mood already lessening. "So beautiful."

You blushed, suddenly bashful about what he'd done.

"Now let's get the fuck out of here," he said, closing the passenger door and rushing around to the front. He drove to the otherside of the lot, completely unfazed by his voyeuristic tendencies.

The guys were already moving stuff outside, and leaving it by the backdoor.

"We were afraid to come over there," Gareth joked, loading stuff into the back. He found it even funnier when he caught the blush creeping over your neck and cheeks. He didn't say anything else about it. But he knew that there was some truth to it all.

"Just hurry up," Eddie said, impatience catching up with him. "I'm in a bad mood, I just fucking hate that guy."

"Yeah, that guy is a dick." Gareth shook his head. "But it's not like she would've let him do anything."

"Obviously," he muttered, and closed the back of the door. "It pisses me off that he would even try to use her like that though, like she's less of a person. It's just, it's gross."

"It is gross," he agreed. "Well, we're out of here. I think I'll catch a ride with Jeff. You seem, uh... busy."

"I think that's for the best."

The drive home was silent, except for the radio playing quietly between you. Eddie's hand gripped your thigh, tightly, possessively. He was thinking of all the ways he was going to fuck you. All the ways he was going to make you cum. All over his face, his cock, his fingers. He couldn't think about anything else. He loathed the idea that Eric probably thought he could get with you. It made it him fucking furious. The more he stewed about it, the more angry he got.

It was time to remind you that there was no one on Earth that could fuck you like he can.

He trusted you fully, but he was going to remind you anyway.

"Eddie?" you asked, "Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

"I'm sure, my love." He traded his grip on your thigh for your hand, which he brought to his lips to place several chaste kisses to your knuckles. It was sweet how much you cared about his feelings, and boundaries. "I just need to make sure you're properly fucked. I've been fucking you softly lately, and I love that," he smiled, and you were blushing, the topic of conversation making you bashful, "but it's time for Daddy to really fuck your brains out."

"Eddie!"

"Time to make my little mouse cum again and again," he continued, "until you're screaming and begging me to stop." He continued to kiss your hand as he spoke, "but you won't want me to stop, not really."

"Don't be dirty," you whispered, shy about the way he was speaking to you. But you loved it. You were soaking wet, clenching your thighs together, thinking about all the ways Eddie would have you. All the ways you would totally and fully give yourself to him.

"Oh baby," he cooed, "tonight we will be filthy, and I think," he let go of your hand, "I'll start now."

And with that he slipped his hand between your thighs, pushing them open. He wasted no time in grabbing your panties, yanking them over to the side and slipping his fingers between your folds.

"So fucking wet," he moaned, slipping a finger inside you, "and so fucking tight." He groaned, taking the finger out and popping it into his mouth. "And sweet."

You were breathing heavily, so turned on by how Eddie was acting. He'd dominated you before, but this was different. Like he was trying to prove something. He was trying to prove to himself that he was the right one for you, that he was the one you wanted and needed.

"I want you to be good for me tonight," he said, moving back between your legs and fingering you again. This time with two thick fingers, and his thumb on your clit. He knew everything by feel, his eyes never left the road. He knew where to touch, and what to do to please you. "Just do what I say and you'll be rewarded."

"Okay," you whispered, speechless at what was going on. You pulled your knee up onto the passenger side door to give him more access to you. To let him in deeper.

"Good girl," he cooed, "off to a good start."

He removed his hand again, and you whined at the loss of contact, but he shut you up by sticking his fingers into your mouth. "Taste that, honey? It's my favourite thing in the world." He kept his fingers in your mouth for a moment, until he felt your tongue swirl around the digits. "You're gunna suck my cock as soon as we get inside your house, and you're not gunna stop until I tell you to stop."

You nodded, and he pulled his fingers out, returning to gripping your thigh like at the start. You were throbbing, thinking 'please touch me again,' over and over and over in your head until you were sure he knew what you were thinking, because his smug smirk returned.

"Look at you, fucking begging for it, looking at me like that isn't gunna be enough, doll. You're not calling the shots tonight."

"Can I suck your cock now?" you asked, and he smiled.

"No," he said. "Keep your hands to yourself."

And suddenly your hands were magnets, and he was what they were attracted to. You wanted to touch him, to play with his hair, or his jacket. Touch his thighs, or any piece of exposed skin you could find. You needed him. You wanted him to be inside you, anyway possible. The lay restlessly on your lap, just keening to touch him.

You clenched your thighs together again, and Eddie tutted at you. "Don't do that, your pleasure is all for me tonight."

"Eddie..." you whined, hiking your leg up higher, trying to entice him to return to his work between your legs. But he didn't budge, just smirked as you whined and writhed in his passenger seat. He loved it like this, he liked how fucking feral you got for him.

And he especially loved how smug it made him when one of the guys sat in that seat, knowing all the dirty things he'd done to you in this van.

He killed the engine, parking crooked in your driveway. No one was home, it was a recipe for a perfect night.

"Don't even have to be quiet," he mused, "you're really in for it, little mouse."

And you were quick to exit the van, and excitedly head into the house. You were only a few steps in, leaning on the wall and trying to kick your shoes off when Eddie slammed the front door, grabbing your hand and turning you back around to him.

"I said 'as soon as we get inside'," and he pulled you down until you feel on your knees. "I didn't say take anything off."

He pushed your face into his bulge, the jean rubbing against your cheek, and the zipper cold on your nose.

You undid his belt above you, fumbling because you couldn't really see it. You pulled it through the loops, and he grabbed it from you before you could discard it.

"Take my pants off," he muttered, letting go of your hair. And you obeyed, tongue tied and soaking wet. Throbbing in your panties. Eddie had never been like this. And you wanted more. You wanted more than you knew.

While you worked on his jeans, he wrapped the belt around your neck. Not to choke you, but to hold it there, as if it was a promise. A promise to keep you in line. You sucked your lip into your mouth, salivating at the sight of his dick springing to life, free from the confines of his ripped jeans. His sexy, sexy ripped jeans.

You started teasingly, licking the underside of his dick slowly, but he yanked the belt, causing it to tighten ever so slightly. "I said, suck my dick!" he raised his voice, annoyed that he had to repeat himself a third time.

You whimpered, putting the tip in your mouth, and he thrusted into your mouth, forcing himself into your throat as you choked and gagged.

"If you want to stop at any point just tap twice or say Atari," he said, a softer tone taking over for a moment, he pulled back a bit, making you look up at him, "tap twice now if you understand."

You tapped his leg twice, and then you gagged on his dick as he thrusted it down your throat again. "Good girl," he muttered, dick twitching at the view he had. Belt wrapped around your throat like a leash, tears filling your eyes and his dick hit the back of your throat. You didn't even have to move, because Eddie couldn't control himself from grabbing your hair, and guiding you to suck his dick exactly how he wanted it.

Eddie was fucking your face, a foot from the front door. If anyone came onto the porch they'd hear the wet squelching of Eddie thrusting into your mouth, or the coughing caused by the intrusion.

"That's fucking unreal, little mouse," he muttered, throwing his head back and his continued gripping your hair by the roots, moving your head up and down on his thick cock. "You take daddy so well."

Your hands gripped his thighs, trying to ignore the painful throbbing of your ignored pussy, while Eddie takes his pleasure. "You look so pretty like this," he said, returning his attention to you. Tears made their escape down your cheeks, dragging your mascara with them.

He gave the belt some slack, and you backed off of him, sucking in a few big gulps of air.

"I didn't know you could take it so good, baby," he cooed, "Daddy's good little slut."

You nodded eagerly, not sure if you were allowed to talk or not. You leaned forward to take him back in your mouth, doing everything you had been before, but without Eddie's guiding hand, you did it yourself, shoving his cock to the back of your throat where you coughed and gagged around him.

His groans were delightful. Eddie moans were music, filling you you with pride and desire. You pulled away again for some more air, and he looked at you with a devilish smirk.

"Come up here," he said, yanking on the belt, forcing you back to your feet.

The belt dangled when he let it go, and he just looked at you for a second. Your hair was messy, cheeks covered in wet makeup, puffy lips, belt hanging loosely around your neck, and glossy eyes that made Eddie swoon, for just a moment. And then he smirked, rubbing his thumbs across your cheek, trying to remove some of the mascara, but he just smudged it more. He smiled.

"Did you like that?" he asked, wanting to make sure you were liking this otherside of him. You nodded. "Why don't you bend of that couch over there? Hmm? Show daddy that ass he loves so much."

You did as he asked, bending yourself over the armrest of the couch. Irritated by all the clothes still on, but Eddie said not to take anything off, and you wanted to be his good girl. Even your sneakers were still on.

You looked behind at him, and he had taken all his clothes off, and was roughly palming his cock in his hand. One finger looped around your panties, yanking them down your legs and off, landing somewhere on the floor. He winked at you, making you blush. He gripped your ass tightly, his thumb linger dangerously close to your asshole.

He spread you open, slapping his cock against your asshole a couple times, mumbling, "I'll have to give this tight little hole a try sometime..." but he slid down to the wet, sopping hole of your pussy, testing the readiness of it by slipping the tip in. Your pussy basically sucked him in, begging him to give it to you. "So fucking wet and ready baby, so fucking good for me."

Instead of fucking you like you desperately needed, he just popped the tip in and out a couple times, spreading your wetness down to your clit and up to your ass.

And then he was lined up to your pussy again, holding himself at your hole, and you whimpered, looking over your shoulder at him, glossy eyes begging for him.

"Why so quiet, little mouse? I want to hear you," he said, moving his cock down to your clit again, and then right back up to your centre.

"Please," you begged, voice breaking with anticipation.

"Please what?"

"Please... please fuck me Daddy," you begged, "please fuck me, I've been so good, I want it. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" you begged.

And in one swift movement he grabbed the belt again, yanking it tight, constricting your throat just enough for you to feel the threat of choking, and also thrusting himself fully inside you. You screamed at the sudden invasion, but it felt so fucking good. The belt slightly constricting you, forcing your head back, and Eddie suddenly balls deep inside you made you scream you loved it so much. His other hand gripped your ass, the skirt bunching up in his palm.

Like how he treated your face, he was roughly fucking into you, each pump going all the way out before slamming back in. Each move was calculated, your head being forced back felt... so fucking good. He slapped your ass, flipping your skirt up.

You muttered unintelligible syllables, just grunts and moans as he took all of you.

You were taking him so well, your pussy was gripping him so tightly. Fuck, Eddie couldn't take it, but he didn't want to cum yet. Didn't want it to end.

You were breathing heavy, getting close to finishing, and Eddie could feel it. He knew the signs of your orgasm, and right when you were about to fall off that edge, he stopped entirely, pulling out and letting your orgasm shatter to pieces, not giving you any sense of relief. Instead, you were left with a painful thump in your clit.

Eddie touched it slowly and softly, giving nowhere near enough to coax you back to your orgasm, but enough to soothe the throbbing of neglect your poor pussy felt.

You whined, trying to push yourself back on him, and it made him chuckle. You looked so desperate for him. You wanted him. And Eddie finally got back his confidence that he was the only one for you. A fact you'd never doubted.

He loosened the belt, taking it off completely, and flipped you over, so you were standing again, leaning back against the couch. He moved your hair out of the way to make sure he didn't do any damage, and he didn't. It was just a little red, with a few small marks where the edges had rubbed into you. But he'd never pulled it tight enough to hurt you.

And then his movements were caring, just for a moment, just enough time to slide off your skirt, and then your shirt and bra. He slowly undressed you, stroking his cock slowly. He worshipped your body, hands dragging slowly across all newly exposed skin.

"So fucking pretty, baby," he said, "and you take it so well, who knew you had this kind of ... perseverance?"

"I want to cum," you pouted, "and I want you to fuck me full."

Eddie's eyes widened at your words, and his usual cheeky grin returned. "Oh, baby, you don't even know what you're asking for," he groaned, biting his bottom look as he took in your disheveled appearance.

"Yes, I do," you challenged, "please?"

And he pushed you back, letting you fall onto the couch cushions. And you crawled backwards as he climbed over the couch, stalking up your body like you were his prey.

He wedged himself in between your thighs, lining him up with your pussy and shoving it back in, hitting every part of you. He stayed still inside you, every inch of him covered with you. And he kissed you. He kissed you with his tongue, teeth, with his hands. He was all over you, covering every sense and taking the attention of all your thoughts.

"I love you," he muttered, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you whispered.

"Good," he smirked, "now take it."

And he was thrusting into you like he didn't love you at all. Hitting every part of you that was only for him to hit. Each slap of his hips hitting into your thighs hurt, but only in the most pleasurable way. You moaned, wrapping your legs around him, trying to somehow bring him in harder, deeper.

One hand by your head, holding him up, the other latching around your throat as he kissed you, all tongues and sloppy. the only sounds being the squelching of your painfully wet pussy and your tiny whimpers, being lost in his mouth.

"I want you to cum," he said, pulling himself away from your mouth, keeping his eyes locked onto your as you moaned under him, breathless and sweaty. "Now, I want you to cum now," he said, angling himself differently, and thrusting harder, hitting you in a spot that made you feel like you were gunna explode.

You were going to explode, especially when he ordered, "touch yourself, make yourself cum."

Like a good girl, you rubbed small circles over your clit, helping him bring yourself back to that ledge you so desperately wanted to jump off.

Your walls tightened around him, and it was different. It was different than every other time. You were chanting his name, moaning "Eddie," over and over until you came, screaming his name and feeling elecricity down to your toes. Every part of you was on fire, and your muscles tightened, pulling him in closer while you squirted, for the very first time, soaking Eddie and the couch, pushing him out of your pussy.

He moved quickly, putting two fingers roughly inside you and moving them with ferocity as he coaxed you through the biggest orgasm you'd ever had. You screamed, loudly, honestly worrying Eddie that the neighbours would hear, so he clamped another hand over your mouth, keeping the noise contained. Your muffled screams just coaxed him to an orgasm on their own, he was sure of it.

He had been close to his climax, but this new change of events was okay with him. He could've cum just from knowing how well he satisfied you.

Your heavy breathing continued for a minute, and in a cock drunk state you looked at him, smiling stupidly while he just watched you, still softly fingering you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

"I made you squirt," he said, stupid, goofy grin all over his face. He continued stroking his fingers in you.

"You didn't cum," you pouted, looking at his still rock hard cock.

"Guess we'll have to just start all over again, pretty petal, but why don't we get you some water first."

And before you understood what was happening, two were standing in the kitchen, Eddie bending you over the counter and slipping his cock back inside you, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close, and to get his fingers back on you clit. Your back pressed into his chest, and he pumped into you slowly.

"More," you muttered, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

"Hmm," he mused, grinning down at the sight of your ass slapping against his abdomen. "I don't know if you can take it..."

"I can," you whined, trying to fuck yourself harder on his cock, but his arms restricted you, not letting you take what you wanted.

"Tell me you can take it," he said, "convince me that you can take it."

And you wriggled free of his grip, climbing onto the counter and laying on your back. Eddie watched with a grin on his face, as you spread your legs wide for him, angling yourself at the perfect height for him to ravage you again. He took his place between your thighs, and rubbed himself up and down on your pussy.

"I can take it," you promised, "I want you to fuck me like you hate me, daddy."

"Is that what you want?" he asked, continuing to slide his tip through your juices, leaving a trail down to your asshole. He popped the tip into your pussy, pulling it out almost immediately.

"Please," you whined, "please fuck me, I can take it. I love it, I want you to hurt me. I want you to fuck me until you fuck me full of your cum. I want you to take it all out on me," you begged, staring straight into his eyes.

"Dirty little mouse," he said. He loved when you broke out of your shell. When you could talk about all your dirty desires with him. "Let's go to bed," he said, wicked smile ever present. "I want to ruin you on those cute pink sheets of yours."

He took your hand, helping you off the counter, like a gentlemen, and then followed you to your room.

"On your knees on the bed," he said as soon as you got in the room. You you crawled on, ass in the air over the edge of the bed, shaking your ass the perfect spot for him to come take you, he did just that, walking up behind you and thrusting two of his fingers into your hole. You moaned, and he moved them aggressively, hitting that delicious spot roughly over and over, and over.

"I'm gunna fuck you full, alright." He was mumbling behind you, working his fingers quickly, hitting your g-spot like he own it and twirling circles around your clit. "Just gotta make you cum again real quick, and then I'm gunna fuck you totally full of my babies." He grinned, turned on by the imagery of you, all round and pregnant with his baby. Maybe one day...

You were getting close again, your arms buckled and you fell onto your chest, your cheek squishing into the soft duvet Eddie loved so much.

It was too much, he knew you too well. You couldn't resist if you wanted to. You moaned knowing he was right, he was going to make you cum again, quickly and with ease. His tongue poked out in complete concentration, followed by a smile as he felt you tighten up. Standing up, he kept the circles on your clit going, but quickly switched out his fingers for his cock, angling himself until he felt your g-spot again.

You screamed again, muffling yourself in the blankets. And the feeling of his big dick penetrating you when you were that close, made you come undone again, you came around his cock, clenching him so tightly he threw his head back in pleasure.

He moved away from your clit, letting his dick be your only guide through another orgasm, and he was back to gripping your ass. He fucking loved that ass. He spanked it, gripped it, held it open, and then out of nowhere he leaned forward to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling you back up, and holding it taut so you were forced to stay on your hands. You moaned, the pain was just another sensation of pleasure.

"You stay like that baby, looks so fucking good." He groaned, his dick twitching inside you, he was close. He wanted to cum so fucking bad, he needed the relief.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the pleasure so great that you couldn't contain it. Couldn't even speak. Eddie fucked you stupid, and you didn't want him to stop. You wanted to be ruined by him. You wanted him to take total claim of you, marking you as his for the rest of forever.

"So fucking good -" he grunted, thrusting harder into you, hitting the back wall with every thrust, making sure to hit you with his full length everytime. "So fuck tight baby, you're so fucking tight. That's all for me, yeah? Just for me," he mumbled, thumb poking into your asshole, and you moaned.

"For you," you muttered weakly, pathetically. You could barely get the words out, the new sensation of his fingers proding a new hole made your pussy tighten again.

"I think I can get you there one more time, huh? What do you say, puppet? Cum for daddy one more time?"

You nodded, feeling like you were close already. He let go of your hair and you leaned forward, arching your back as much as possible to give him even more access to you. He spread your ass open so he could see it all. Watch as he pummeled your little pussy.

"Gunna c.." you moaned, "gunna please."

"What's that? I don't know what you're saying down there baby."

"I'm g-gunna fuck," you whined, "it's- again."

"What're you? Stupid? Use your words, baby, tell me," he cooed, egging you on when he knew damn well what you were saying, and your walls became impossibly tight around him.

"I'm gunna cum," you whined, finding your voice finally, and you continued to raise it as you said, "please, daddy. Please, I'm gunna fucking cum, you fuck me so good."

"Was that so hard?" he asked, finding your clit with a wet thumb and rubbing circles on it until he felt you come undone again, biting the duvet to keep from wailing and alerting the whole fucking town to what Eddie doing.

He couldn't hold back anymore, and he followed through on his promises, continuing to fuck you as he came ribbons into your cunt, the liquids pooling up and dripping out around his cock. He watched with stars in his eyes at the sight of your pretty pussy taking all his juices.

He slowed down, his dick still inside you but softer. He cooed at you, praising you for being so good.

"Baby, that was... wow," he said, pulling out of you. He ran a comforting hand down your back, gripping your ass gently one more time. "I love you, I love you so much."

Eddie ran a finger over your pussy, to your clit, making your whole body jerk when he touched it. Your cum and his mashed together, an indistinguishable mess between your legs. You didn't move, just stayed face down ass up while Eddie worshipped up, touching you softly all over the place.

"My love," he said, taking your hand softly, returning to his nurturing boyfriend stat like he hadn't just treated you like a whore. His whore... "C'mon sweet girl, let's go get some water and a shower."

#eddie munson #eddie smut #eddie x you #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you

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bigfootsboytoy · 1 year

Text

Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.

So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.

Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.

Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.

He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.

He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.

Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.

And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.

By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.

Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.

"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"

Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.

"I don't mind sharing."

Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.

Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.

"Are you really gay?"

Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.

"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."

It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.

"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"

"It's not weird."

"Okay."

Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.

"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."

"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."

"What do you do when it's not enough?"

"Hmmm?"

"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"

Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.

"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."

"Oh."

Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.

"I don't know how to do any of that."

He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.

"Steve...are you lonely?"

Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.

He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.

He panics a little at the sight.

"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."

And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.

Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.

"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.

"I don't know man. I just wish-"

He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.

"What do you wish Steve?"

"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"

It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.

He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.

He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.

Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.

He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.

"Thanks man."

And Eddie takes another leap of faith.

"I could be that person, you know."

"What?"

"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."

Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.

"Just for tonight?"

It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.

"Yeah. For tonight Steve."

"I think...I think I'd like that."

Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.

"Alright sweetheart."

Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.

He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.

He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.

"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Hmmm?"

"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"

And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.

"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"

"The real one."

"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."

Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.

"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"

Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.

"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."

Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.

"That sounds nice."

It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.

*It's only for tonight.*

He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.

But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.

Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.

Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.

But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.

Just for one night.

And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington whump #steve is sad #eddie helps #pre-season 4 #this takes place between seasons 2 and 3 #I wrote this in a fit of insanity while I was supposed to be working #hope yall like it

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connorsui · 6 days

Text

Yours To Devour || R. Sukuna

♡Heian Era true form sukuna x female reader

♡one-shot

♡ Sukuna grapples with his growing obsession for the one mortal who sleeps peacefully in his presence, forcing him to confront an intimacy that both disgusts and entraps him.

♡ Tags: possessive Sukuna, soft sukuna (reluctant he hates it),watching you sleep, protective Sukuna,

♡ Genre/warnings : Mild possessiveness, obsessive thoughts, teennyyyy dark themes, small manipulation not really tho

Note: I wanted a sukuna that want to pretend he don't love you ....but he does

w.c: 1.1 K

The night stretched long and still, an endless canvas of shadow in which Sukuna sat, motionless, watching you sleep. The world beyond this room meant nothing to him in that moment, his kingdom reduced to the fragile form curled beside him, breathing so softly, so trustingly. It irritated him—no, more than that—it unnerved him. How could someone so powerless, so inconsequential, hold such sway over his thoughts?

You didn’t know it, couldn’t know it, but you had woven yourself into the very fabric of his being without so much as lifting a finger. It was absurd. He was Sukuna Ryomen, the King of Curses. His power knew no bounds, his cruelty no limits, and yet here he was, tethered to a mortal, incapable of tearing his eyes away from the steady rise and fall of your chest. He hated it—hated you for it. And yet… he couldn’t stop.

Why does it have to be you of all?

The question lingered, gnawing at the edges of his mind. Why did you sleep so easily in his presence? Why did the terror that gripped the souls of all others at the mere sight of him seem to bypass you completely? There was a recklessness in your serenity, a vulnerability that mocked the very core of his existence. You should have feared him. You should have fled, as all the others had. But you stayed.

More than that—you rested.

Sukuna’s gaze swept over your face, soft and untroubled in sleep, lips slightly parted as though you were whispering secrets to the night. A low growl rumbled in his chest. You were aggravatingly adorable in the worst of ways, and he hated that about you.

This is beneath me.

All of this is beneath me.

He told himself that again and again, a mantra that rang hollow with every passing second. How had it come to this? When had he allowed himself to sink so low, to be ensnared by something as meaningless as your mortal fragility? He had killed for less—decimated entire populations without so much as a second thought. But you, in your softness, in your maddening stillness, were undoing him.

Sukuna shifted closer to you, his breath catching in his throat when you stirred ever so slightly, turning toward him, as if even in sleep, you sought the heat of his body. The urge to touch you, to trace the outline of your cheek with his fingers, clawed at him. He wanted to deny it, to push you away, to crush the intimacy growing between you like a weed he could not pull. But he didn’t. He let himself drown in it.

You have no idea what you’ve done to me, he thought, the words a silent curse, bitter and laden with a weight he couldn’t shake. You had invaded his mind, his soul, in ways that made no sense. He, who had been untouchable, invincible, now found himself tangled in this absurd connection, like a moth drawn to the flame that would inevitably consume it.

But he wasn’t the moth, was he? No, you were. You, with your mortal fragility and your trusting heart, would be the one to burn.

Still, his hands betrayed him. They moved without his permission, his upper arms sliding under the blanket to pull you into his chest, while his lower hands hovered, uncertain, before covering your smaller form with their warmth. His grip tightened—possessive, instinctive—as if keeping you close was the only way to keep himself together. And it disgusted him. You disgusted him. And yet, the disgust was tempered by something darker, something more intimate.

Do you even know how much power you have over me?

He felt his chest rise and fall in time with yours, an unintentional rhythm that brought him no peace, only frustration. He had spent centuries mastering control over everything—his domain, his power, the very fabric of reality itself bent to his will. But you? You had slipped past his defenses without even trying, weaving yourself into his every thought, his every breath.

It was infuriating. It was intoxicating.

He lowered his gaze to your lips, slightly parted in sleep, the soft puff of your breath brushing against his skin. He could feel it—his need to touch you, to claim you, warping the edges of his sanity. The intimacy of it all, the way you had trusted him, was unbearable. And yet, here he was, allowing you into the space no one else had ever dared to enter.

Why do you make me weak? The thought echoed in his mind, bitter and raw. He could end this now, crush you in his embrace, sever this unwanted bond with a single thought. And yet… the idea of your absence unsettled him in a way that nothing ever had before.

“Foolish girl,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely a whisper in the dark. His lips curled into a sneer, but it was laced with something softer, something closer to tenderness than he would ever admit. You have no idea how dangerous this is, do you? No idea how close you were to being devoured, consumed by the very thing that now held you so carefully, so possessively.

But there was no terror in you, no fear, as you pressed closer to him in sleep. Only a serene acceptance that made his chest tighten in ways he didn’t understand. The idea of letting go seemed… impossible now. The King of Curses did not care for anything or anyone—but the thought of you slipping from his grasp was unbearable. It was absurd.

I’ll kill you and anyone else before I let such a thing happen.

His arms tightened around you, holding you closer, his body wrapping around yours with a desperate sort of finality. He was no fool. This was a weakness, plain and simple. But it was his weakness. You were his.

And so, as the night deepened, Sukuna rested, his head falling against yours as he allowed himself this brief surrender to the intimacy he would never acknowledge in the daylight. The world could crumble, kingdoms could fall, but for now—just for now—he would keep you here.

Close.

And he would never let you go.

Manz doesn't know what to do with himself ...but that's okay ..cuz you there

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arieslost · 6 months

Text

the other papaya | op81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader (brief pato o’ward x fem!reader)

summary: something something the first five times you hear the name “oscar piastri” and the one time you say it

wc: 3,165

warnings: mention of covid lockdown, a wee bit o’ angst, drinking

masterlist — join my tag list here!

The first time you heard Oscar Piastri’s name, it was said in contempt.

You knew your boyfriend didn’t hate him, but you also knew that Pato could practically hear the phone ringing with the offer to drive for McLaren in F1 right up until he found out that the seat was going to someone else. To Oscar Piastri. The “kid,” as he so aptly referred to him.

“He’s only two years younger than you,” you admonished him one night, soon after the announcement was made public.

“Exactly. A kid.”

“I’m two years younger than you.” You said, and that made him wrinkle his nose.

“Point taken.”

You would describe your relationship with Pato O’Ward as puppy love. Things between the two of you escalated a little too quickly, as many things in 2020 did. You went from going on a whopping four dates by the end of 2019 to living together for the foreseeable future when everything went on lockdown. Your mother had voiced her concern about it, but if you didn’t live with him you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Besides, you liked each other so much that it only made sense that you continued to build your relationship in the comfort of his spacious apartment. The two of you settled into a decent rhythm, and you took the time to learn more about motorsport. When he was finally able to hit the track again, you went to every race you could, decked out in papaya, cheering him on no matter what. And you continued to do so even though he lost his chance at driving in F1 to “the kid.”

The second time you heard Oscar Piastri’s name, it came from the man himself when you ran into him at the 2024 Australian Grand Prix.

It was the first time you felt rather hesitant about going to a race with your boyfriend. Pato was welcomed to the McLaren F1 team as a reserve driver, and that was how you found yourself feeling extremely out of place in the McLaren garage. You met Oscar’s girlfriend before you met him, and while she was kind enough to get you a pair of headphones and offer to sit with you during the race, the entire interaction had you feeling like you should’ve just stayed back at the hotel. All the other WAGs were dressed to the nines, looking effortlessly beautiful, and you were wearing ripped jeans and a jersey with Pato’s number on it, like you always did, even though he wasn’t racing. With Pato busy in a debrief, you were busy just trying to stay out of the way and not stick out like a sore thumb.

“Excuse me,” someone said, and you assumed you were in the way, so you apologized and started moving when the person grabbed your arm to stop you. “No, sorry, I just– hi. You’re Pato’s girlfriend, yeah?”

Your eyes widened when you recognized the man talking to you. “Um… yes, I am.”

“I’m Oscar. Piastri,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded, accepting his handshake and telling him your name in return. “Are you here to tell me I need to leave?”

“What? No, of course not. Pato told me you were here, so I wanted to come say hi.”

“Oh.” You could feel your face starting to grow hot, because you really weren’t sure what to do in this situation.

Pato lost a chance at a seat to this guy, and you remembered his disappointment well. But you didn’t expect Oscar to come up to you in a million years.

“That’s really nice of you,” you continued, trying to smile without looking too awkward. “Congrats on getting the seat. You must be pretty talented.”

“Ah, thanks.” He looked at you for a moment, and you looked back. “Anyway, I just wanted to say hi.”

You giggled in spite of yourself. “You said that already.”

“Right, yeah. Well, it was nice to meet you,” he said, hesitantly tacking your name onto the end of his sentence. “Thanks for being here.”

“Nice to meet you too, Oscar. Good luck today.”

Two races later, Pato messaged him to congratulate him on his podium, and you mentioned wanting to thank and congratulate him yourself. You got Oscar’s number, and after his quick response, the conversation died out, just as you expected. You didn’t have anything else to say to him anyway, but soon after, you got a follow request from him on Instagram. You accepted without a second thought– just one papaya supporting another.

The third time you heard Oscar Piastri’s name, it was when a TikTok showed up on your feed talking about the “shocking split” between him and his girlfriend. You were reasonably surprised; his girlfriend was beautiful and kind, and from an outsider’s perspective they seemed quite happy with each other. The video went on to discuss speculation that his girlfriend was the one who had ended the relationship, and there were pictures of him looking visibly upset at the latest race. You closed the app, feeling like you were massively invading his privacy even though the first thing you saw upon opening Instagram was a statement on his story confirming the breakup. You couldn’t imagine what he was going through.

“Ah, so you saw, too,” Pato said, adjusting his workout clothes as he leaned over your shoulder.

“It’s terrible,” you sighed, shutting your phone off. “They seemed so happy together.”

“High school sweethearts, too. That makes it worse.”

You gave him a look. “You can feel bad for him, y’know.”

“I do!” Pato raised his hands with a laugh. “But if he wants to sit out of a race because of this, I won’t be upset.”

“You’re terrible, get out of here.” You shoved him playfully, and he left with a kiss on your forehead.

The last race weekend before summer break brought you a taste of the heartbreak Oscar went through only a couple months prior.

Pato had been in one of the older cars running some tests, and came home a little later than usual. He didn’t even answer your question of how his day was before he was sitting you down on the couch and looking anywhere but at your face.

“Pato, what’s going on? You’re kind of freaking me out,” you laughed nervously.

“I think we should break up.” He said, face stony.

You blinked. “What?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a little while,” he began, “and I think it’s for the best.”

“How long is ‘a while’?” You asked, shifting away from him as you felt your heart begin to pound.

“Ever since I became a reserve driver.” He confessed, and you scoffed.

“Are you serious right now?”

“This is the closest I’ve ever been to a F1 seat.” He said, like that made breaking up logical.

“Yeah, I know. And you know how I know? Because I’ve been around for years.” You hissed, standing up and walking towards the bedroom. “But I guess that means nothing to you.”

“Don’t be like that,” Pato protested, following close behind. “This is my career. I don’t want to risk anything.”

“Right. Of course.” You nodded, moving about the room to collect as much of your stuff as you could with shaking hands.

The rest of the week went by in a blur. You packed up all your things and took the soonest flight to Australia to try and forget about the fact that Pato had just thrown away years of being together for a fleeting chance at driving a stupid race car.

The fourth time you hear Oscar Piastri’s name, it’s on the other end of the phone.

The two weeks following your breakup are uneventful and entirely consist of you, the warm Australian sun, and the spare bedroom in your aunt and uncle’s house. You haven’t deleted any of your IndyCar posts, nor have you posted any more. In fact, you haven’t posted anything since the last time you were in Australia, only a few months ago. Your Instagram has become stagnant; a reflection of your real life. You haven’t told many people about your breakup, so you’re surprised when your phone rings. Even more so when you see who it is.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Oscar. Piastri,” he adds his last name like an afterthought, just like he did when he introduced himself in the garage.

“I know,” you say, pushing yourself into a sitting position on your bed. “Caller ID. Although you’re probably the last person I’d expect a call from.”

“Listen, are you not around anymore?” He asks, evidently not in the mood to beat around the bush. “I haven’t seen you, and you haven’t posted about IndyCar or anything.”

“Ah, um, yeah, no, I’m not.” You clear your throat uncomfortably. “Actually, Pato and I broke up. Well, he broke up with me. So, no reason for me to be around, I guess.”

“Oh,” Oscar says, his loud sigh crackling through the microphone. “I figured something was wrong. Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I’m uh… I’m sorry too. Seemed like you had a good thing going.”

“Thanks. Seemed that way for you, too,” he mumbles. “So… I guess things have really been sucking for both of us lately.”

“Pretty much.” You laugh.

“This is a terrible idea,” he begins after a moment of silence, “but are you in Australia right now?”

You debate lying to him, because it is a terrible idea, and you have a feeling you know what he’s going to say next. You don’t care. “I am.”

“Alright, well, it’s summer break for F1 right now, and to be honest you’re the only person I know that understands what I’ve been going through.”

“Are you asking me to be your wallowing buddy?” You ask.

“Something like that. My plan was pretty much along the lines of drowning our sorrows in alcohol.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and for some reason that does you in.

The fifth time you hear Oscar Piastri’s name, it’s through a cheap karaoke microphone.

You’ve lost count of how many days you’ve spent with him, and you feel like you’re still a little drunk from the night before when he breaks open a bottle of champagne.

“What is this, a celebration?” You ask, stretching your arms and legs out so you look like a starfish where you lay on the living room floor.

“It’s whatever the fuck we want it to be.” He takes two glasses and pours the champagne out.

You giggle at him while he dramatically sets them both down on the coffee table at your side. “You definitely pregamed before you got here.”

“I did not,” he protests, but you shake your head.

“No, no, you say curse words like that when you’re drunk.”

“Like what?”

“Like, ‘oh my God, this champagne is so fucking good.’” You mock him after taking a sip, and he starts laughing too.

“Fine, you caught me.” He throws his hands up. “I pregamed. But, I walked here, so who cares?”

You’re glad that your aunt and uncle are out for the night, because a few hours and countless glasses of champagne later find the both of you in the attic, discovering a karaoke microphone without a machine to match.

“Screw the machine, we don’t need the shitty machine,” Oscar rolls his eyes, watching you put batteries into the microphone. “We’ll just find something on YouTube. Does it work?”

You flip the switch and hold it up to your mouth. “HELLO? It works.”

You regret putting fresh batteries into it as soon as Oscar gets up to sing. You think that he might not be half bad if he’s sober, but drunk, his singing is absolutely insufferable. You would care if you weren’t equally as drunk as him. He pulls up a karaoke video of Last Friday Night by Katy Perry, only after getting you to swear on the lives of your entire family that you won’t tell anyone what you see or hear. You consider secretly recording him, but the second he starts, you’re practically folded in half from laughing so hard at his antics and the fleeting idea is gone.

He’s so dramatic with every lyric, like he’s trying to act all the words out while he’s singing about a stranger in his bed and pink flamingos in his (nonexistent) pool. When he gets to the part of the chorus talking about taking too many shots, he gestures for you to hand him the champagne bottle. You hand it over immediately and watch as he stops singing entirely to take a long drink straight from the bottle, ignoring how attractive he looks the whole while. You actually think that you’d really like to kiss him. You’re drunk, and you’re heartbroken. You just want to laugh and forget about it all. So when he chokes on the champagne for a moment and flounders to find where he’s supposed to be in the song, you do just that.

The song ends both too soon and not soon enough, and you give him a round of applause, chanting, “Encore!” a few times as he takes a bow.

“I’m Oscar Piastri,” he yells, “and I fucking hate relationships!”

You cheer loudly. “Speak on it!”

“Except I have a problem,” he says, all of a sudden dejected as he flops onto the couch beside you, still speaking into the mic. “I have a biiiig, huuuuge problem.”

“Tell the all-knowing, and she shall answer,” you turn onto your side to face him and reach out to… you don’t remember what you wanted to do. Maybe touch his cheek. Or his nose. Or his lips.

Your hand ends up resting on the top of his head, fingers tangled in the soft strands of his hair.

“I think I might really like you,” he whispers, his words muffled by his lips smushing against the top of the mic. “Which is not good. I mean, it’s good, like, I think you’re amazing, but it’s not good, because I broke up and then you broke up, so we both broke up, but not with each other, with other people, and–”

You cut him off by taking the mic from him with your free hand and switching it off.

“Sorry.” He says, blinking at you slowly. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“We do,” you begin, petting his head. “Eventually. But not now. I am way too drunk to talk about this.”

This makes him start giggling, so you start giggling, and then you’re both cackling and clutching your stomachs.

You want to laugh, and forget about it, and you want to do it every single day with Oscar.

The first time you say the name Oscar Piastri, it’s while you’re laying in a hospital bed.

You’ve always been notorious for getting easily bruised, but breaking a bone is a first. Especially when it happens in the public eye.

You were only trying to make a cute, aesthetic TikTok showcasing your first race weekend as Oscar’s official girlfriend when you tripped and fractured your ankle in front of half the McLaren team. Not to mention the throng of fans mere feet away.

The two of you didn’t start dating until half a year after his drunken confession, and when you first started going out you had to be very discreet so fans didn’t expose the both of you before either of you were ready. Most of your dates ended up being at your aunt and uncle’s, which had become your home too once you got a job and started really getting yourself together after your breakup. He flew out to see you all the time, and as soon as he suggested that you come with him to the race of the season, you jumped on the opportunity. You didn’t think you’d ever go to a race again, but here you were. You were both happy, and you were both ready.

And now you’re fuming, mentally cursing yourself as you look down at your boot-covered ankle that has now effectively ruined your entire weekend.

Oscar comes rushing into the room, and you hold up a hand.

“Don’t tell me. Do not even tell me.” You shake your head. “Just tell me if it’s somewhat safe to go online or if I should just throw my phone out.”

“What?”

“I know people are talking about it. Oh, no.” Your eyes widen. “No, no. I’ve become a public embarrassment for you. I knew it. It only took me a few hours.” You cover your face with your hands. “Oh, my God… I am so sorry.”

“Again, what?” He asks, prying your hands away. “Baby, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, aside from that,” you gesture to the boot, glaring at it before your eyes shoot back up to him. “Wait a second, how did quali go? Did you do your media stuff already?”

“I’m starting P5. I came here right after, no media.” He rushes out, pulling up a chair so he can sit right next to you and hold your hand. “They’re letting you go, right?”

“Yeah, just have to do some paperwork and get a prescription– why didn’t you go to the media?”

“Because they told me you got hurt? And you needed to be hospitalized?” He says, like it’s obvious.

“Oz, you get fined for that!” You exclaim. “Oh, no, this is so bad! First I embarrass you– no, not just you, probably the entire team, and now you’re here and not there and you’re going to get in trouble… fuck, what if you get fired?!”

“Baby, baby,” Oscar laughs, grabbing both of your hands now. “I’ll get fined, but I’m not gonna get fired just because I skipped media one time. Zak was fine with it, if that makes you feel better.”

You’re still worried, and he can see it in your eyes.

“What’s got you so worked up about this?” He asks softly.

“I just… don’t want to be a risk towards your career.” You say, feeling ashamed that you can still hear Pato’s words from the day he broke up with you. Oscar knows immediately.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, leaning in and kissing you on the lips, and then your nose. “None of this means anything if I don’t have you.”

You’re still taking it slow, but this is the closest either of you have come to saying “I love you” without saying it, so you pull your hands from his and cup his cheeks to pull him into another kiss.

“Oscar Piastri, you are my whole world.”

Ten minutes later, Lando comes bursting into the room with such aggression that he almost faceplants, and he makes so much noise that a nurse runs into the room looking highly concerned.

So, you laugh, and you forget about it, and you do it with Oscar at your side, where you know he’ll stay for the rest of your lives.

note: this was a bitch to write. also i was gonna make a layout for this but i really wanted to post it tonight so it is sans layout and was edited like a half hour before it’s scheduled to post. all that being said, i hope u enjoyed!!

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever

#request #full fic #op81 week #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fluff #op81 x reader #op81 x you #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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honoredalone · 6 months

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𐙚 I’D RATHER BE KISSING YOUR WAIST

❝ move slow, i don’t wanna get in your way. well the words in your mouth sound cool but i’d rather be kissin’ your waist ❞ keep it up - chase atlantic

♡ gojo satoru is the strongest, but that didn’t leave him without his scars. internal and external. the biggest scar making him shy away, but that didn’t stop you from loving it.

content: talk of scars, self doubt, negative thoughts, sad baby satoru, slight angst, tooth rotting sweetness

heavily inspired by @colonelarr0w, “tracing satoru’s scar”. go check out their works!! they’re amazing, so go support!!

it’s ugly, satoru thinks it’s the most hideous thing on his body. the gross texture, weird color and the memories behind it. the scar circling his waist makes him sick to look at. everyone knows how confident satoru is, well how could he not be? he’s the strongest after all, but even the strongest has his moments of weakness and the scar is just a permanent reminder of just that. he resents himself for it though he’s only human.

“what’re you doin’ there sweet girl?” his voice is raspy and deep from fatigue, a long day of teaching at jujutsu tech will do it to you but he always looks forward to this time of day. when he can lay in bed with you, cuddled into your warmth, his hand caressing the small of your back lovingly. your hand drifting down his torso above his black t-shirt. he didn’t usually wear t-shirts to bed but after the fight he could barely look at his own body without being ashamed so naturally he hid is body not only from himself but from you too. he knew you wouldn’t be disgusted by something so trivial but he couldn’t heal the insecurity that leaked into his brain.

“nothin’ ‘ru just wanna love you.” you whispered, your head resting on his toned chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. your fingers slowly moving to the hem on his shirt. you didn’t miss the way his stomach clenched when your warm hand drifted under his shirt. “you’re so handsome.”

“baby, wait.” satoru almost whines as your fingers feather over the ragged skin. his other hand softly holding your much smaller wrist. you heard the way his heartbeat sped up, the way his breathing became uneven.

“satoru, love.” you sat up, your eyes connecting with his. you hated seeing him so broken over something so small, something that you didn’t care about. nothing about the scar that decorated his beautiful pale skin deterred you away from him whatsoever, he’s your satoru.

“please.” he didn’t know what he meant by that but his eyebrows furrowed together, crystal eyes filling with tears. “it’s not pretty. it’s ugly.” he quietly admits, hand still wrapped around your wrist while the other still sits at the small of your back, thumb caressing you so tenderly. it upset you he thought about himself like that, it crushed your heart. he couldn’t help the fact that the wound scarred and it wasn’t his fault that it made him self conscious but you wanted to show him that it, of course, could never change how you felt about him.

you move to sit on his lap, his hands going limp and laying flat on the plush covers before they find your waist, squeezing your sides affectionately. looking at him for silent permission to push up his shirt slightly, he only looks at you like a kicked puppy before giving you a tense nod. you slowly push up his shirt, just blow his chest. his torso as gorgeous as always, fair skin strong and smooth. he was beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful. he took your breath away everytime, before and after the wound. you rest your hands onto the scar, thumbs softly rubbing the rough skin. his breath shook, he closed his eyes to prevent tears cascading down his blushed cheeks.

“you’re so handsome satoru.” your voice soft, melting over him like honey. he could just sob, he was barely keeping it together when he felt your warm breath fan over the wounded skin. “my pretty boy. so beautiful.” you place soft kisses, all over. his hands shook on your sides as his fingers tighten attempting to dampen his nerves. his words were stuck in his throat, he could barely formulate a sentence in his head because what could he say. open mouthed kisses making his stomach warm and tickle slightly, making his head spin.

“fuck, sweet girl. i love you. love you ‘s much.” his words wavered as he spoke, his mind nearly blank. kissing up from his waist, to right below his chest he sits up, wrapping both of his arms around your waist. he looks at you so sweetly, almost defeated. his arms retracting from around you to the neckline of his black shirt, slowly taking it off and discarding it to the side and looking over your face again. he knew that he couldn’t fully look at his scar and not feel badly but he could learn to like it, just because you did.

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 18 days

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It's Okay To Ask For Help

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: angst, unwanted touching (grabbing one's ass without permission), creepy men

Summary: Things don’t look good from where you are. You work at a run-down bar, you’re a single mother trying to keep a roof over your head, and you’re trying to give your daughter the childhood she deserves. You don’t see yourself going up from here until reconnect with Spencer Reid.

Square Filled: bartender au (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

“Sweetheart! Another round!”

You have to keep the disgust off your face as you pour the man another round of whatever he is drinking. Sweetheartisn’t the worst thing you’ve been called at your job, but it’s the way he said it that has your skin crawling. You slide him the beer and pull your hand away fast enough before he can reach out and touch you. He grabs his beer and goes back to talking to his friend but keeps one eye on you.

You move to the other patrons of the bar and push the creepy man out of your mind. It’s not that you hate this job, you hate the people that come in. You’re the only female bartender which warrants unwanted attention from men nearly twice your age. Your boss isn’t any better as he usually lets this type of behavior slide, but at least he doesn’t try to touch you every hour.

The alcohol is running low so you step off to the side to grab some more while your coworker mans the bar. You walk into the back and bend over to grab two bottles when you feel someone press against your ass.

“Damn, baby, I have been thinking about this ass ever since I stepped foot in the bar.”

You stand up so fast that you would have gotten dizzy if it hadn’t been for the stranger groping your ass.

“Get your hands off me!” You turn and push the man away. “You’re not even supposed to be back here!”

“Come on, darling, just give me ten minutes of your time. I promise to make it worth your while.”

You’d slap him if you thought that would keep him away from you. Fucker probably likes that shit.

“No! Get the fuck out of here!”

You’re loud enough to cause your boss to enter the back room, and you look at him with wide eyes that have tears threatening to spill out.

“What’s going on here?”

“Sorry, man, I was trying to find the bathroom.”

“It’s the other hallway,” your boss points.

“Right. Thanks, man.”

You don’t wait for the door to fully close before talking to your boss.

“That man was lying. He came in here and grabbed my ass! I want him thrown out of the bar!”

“Whoa, calm down. That man has paid a lot of money tonight. I’m not going to just throw him out,” your boss sighs.

“He grabbed my ass. Don’t you care that he assaulted me?”

“Don’t be overdramatic. I’m sure he was just looking for the bathroom and accidentally knocked into you.” Your mouth opens. You can’t believe your ears. “Kevin is getting swamped out there. Get the alcohol and get back to work.”

You stay in the back room and cry for the next ten minutes. You’d quit if you didn't need this job. You have a daughter at home to support, and her father is only doing the minimum to help you. The court ordered him to pay you a thousand dollars a month for child support, and that barely covers your rent. You still have to work long hours just to put food on your table. You can’t afford to lose this job because no other place will hire you.

You’ve applied for other places and have even gotten an interview once, but nothing ever came of it. It’s like they back out as soon as they hear you’re a bartender at this bar, or the fact that you’ve got tattoos that you can’t exactly cover up with normal clothes. You don’t have any on your face or neck, but you do have some on your hands and chest. Darren, your boss, only hired you because of the way you look in a crop top--at least that’s what you believe.

You wipe your tears and join Kevin behind the bar to continue as if nothing ever happened. The man is gone but that only; means two more people just like him replace him. The only thing getting you through this shift is the fact that your sister is kind enough to watch Delilah until you get off at five in the morning. She’s agreed to the arrangement since she leaves for work around the same time you get off.

You’re saving what you can even if it’s only fifty bucks a paycheck, but it’s not nearly as much as you’d hope. Something needs to change or else you’ll drown in pain.

The rest of the shift goes by relatively smoothly, and you leave just as the sun is peeking over the horizon. You drive to your sister’s house where she is getting her lunch ready for work. Her husband is already out of the house since he’s a contractor and works before the sun is out, and Delilah is still in her pajamas watching cartoons in the living room.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asks.

“No. Just a rough night, I guess.”

“You really should look into getting another job.”

“Yeah, I know,” you sigh. “Are you ready, Delilah?”

“Yes, Mommy!”

You leave with your daughter and head back home where you get her ready for school. You drive her to the bus stop and watch as she gets on. After the bus has left, you manage to make it home without crying. As soon as you step through the door, the waterworks are in full effect. Once that dam has been opened, it’s hard to close them. After a quick shower, you crawl into bed to try and get some sleep. You don’t have blackout curtains so the light still shines through the dark curtains, allowing you to see all the artwork you’ve hung on the walls.

You’re a good artist but you can never make any money off it. If you could, you’d be doing that full-time instead of bartending to a bunch of assholes. You manage to fall asleep until three when you leave to pick Delilah up from school. Your shift starts at seven in the evening so you have a little time to spend with your daughter before dropping her off at your sister’s.

“How was school, baby?”

“Good! I got to sit next to Lily today. Her and her Daddy are going to the fish zoo this weekend. Can we go?”

You chuckle at what she calls an aquarium. Your smile is lost when you think about Lily and who her dad is.

“You mean Lily Reid?”

“Yeah. Can we go? Pretty please?”

“Sure, baby. That sounds fun.”

You’ll have to work a double in order to pay for it, but you’ll do it if it means giving your daughter a normal childhood. Back before you had your daughter, you used to live right next door to a man named Spencer Reid. You two were joined at the hip and did everything together, often spending the night in each other’s apartments to keep each other company. You never did figure out how you felt about him until he left for the FBI academy.

By then, it was too late. You haven’t seen him since.

There are rare times when you see Spencer drop his daughter off at school before he goes to work, but you hear about him more than you see him. Delilah and Lily have a lot of after-school playdates at your sister’s house when you have to go to work early or need a bit more sleep, so you hear about Spencer from your sister. She knows about the two of you and often tells you about how he’s doing. She’s rooting for the both of you even though you don’t think he’d be interested in you now.

It was rough work but you managed to make it to the weekend without too much of a problem. Kevin agreed to take your shift on Saturday so that you can spend it with your daughter, and you agreed to take his Monday so he can have at least two days off in a row.

“Come on, Mommy!”

Delilah practically drags you into the aquarium hoping that Lily is there waiting for her. Spencer and Lily aren’t there yet so you two decide to wait in the large waiting area. The place is a large glass tunnel where you have an unobstructed view of every sea creature swimming by. Due to the excess water, the entire room has a blue hue to it. Delilah is mesmerized by the animals and runs over to the glass to press her face into it. You’re kind of nervous at seeing Spencer after all this time because you finally figured out how you felt about him after he left.

You were in love with him… you might still be.

You take out your phone and take pictures of her posing in front of the animals and some when she’s not even paying attention. She looks to the right and squeals when she sees her best friend.

“Lily!!”

You watch the two little girls run and hug each other, and your eyes lock on Spencer’s. Seven years apart but it feels like no time has passed when you look into his eyes. The girls go off to explore while still being close enough to you and Spencer.

“It’s been a long time. How have you been?” you ask.

“Still in the FBI and catching bad guys.”

“That’s so cool to be in the FBI.”

“Not as cool as you might think. How have you been? What are you up these days?”

“Bartending at the moment. Remember Skull Bar?”

Spencer stops walking and looks at you in shock. “You’re still bartending here? Didn’t you hate that place?”

He must remember the nights when you’d come home crying because you hated how you were treated by sleazy customers.

“I still do, but what am I going to do? I have Delilah to support, and it’s not like her father is helping much. I should ask for more since he is making a lot of money, but I haven’t had time to go to the courts.” You two continue walking after both of your daughters. “I miss living next to you.”

That’s your way of telling him you miss him dearly even if he doesn’t pick up on it.

“You know, the apartment next to mine just opened up. You two can move there. I know Lily would love it.”

It hurts knowing your lives would be much better staying at a place that doesn’t have broken appliances, but how will you ever afford it? You can barely afford the dump you live in now.

“Spencer, it’s a nice thought but it’s not like I can afford it. I make good tips but bartending barely puts food on my table. I can barely afford the twenty-five hundred dollar rent I have now. Apartments in the city cost a lot more. I appreciate the offer, though.”

“Are you still drawing? I remember you always making me something. You were and probably still are incredible.”

“Some but it doesn’t pay the bills, so I had to put it on the back burner.”

“You’re talented enough to make it a career.”

“Well, when you know of a job that will benefit me, let me know.”

Spencer nods in thought and you two continue to walk after your kids in silence. His phone rings and he steps off to the side to take the call while still following the girls. You look at Spencer and admire him without him knowing about it. He’s grown a lot since you last saw him not only physically but mentally. He must have been through a lot of shit to have that faraway look in his eyes.

He ends the call ten minutes later and walks back over to you. Lily and Delilah are busy petting the sting rays which will give you another twenty before they’re ready to move on.

“I’m going to say something, and I don’t want you to shut it down immediately. I want you to think about it,” Spencer says.

“Okay…”

“My team is looking for a sketch artist, and I know you’d be perfect for the job. You have the skill. It pays well, better than bartending, and the benefits are so much better. You and Delilah would be taken care of.”

You gasp at the thought of finally leaving that shit hole, but you remember the promise you made Spencer. You bite your lower lip to prevent yourself from denying it. After two minutes of thinking about it, you release your bottom lip.

“What do you think I’d say to that?”

“That you’re not a charity case and you don’t need help.” He’s right. You would have said that. “Just think about it. Think about Delilah. It’s still within the school’s boundaries so she doesn’t have to switch.”

You look at Delilah and Lily who are laughing from the water the sting rays are splashing. This job would offer you a more normal schedule and allow you to spend more time with her. You’d be able to provide her with a better childhood.

“Your office is on the other side of town from where I live. My car isn’t that great.”

“I know of a place a lot closer,” he smirks.

“Is this a ploy to get me to move in next to you?”

He shakes his head with a smile. “Sometimes people need help, and it’s okay to ask for help. That doesn’t make you a bad mom or a bad person. It makes you strong because you’re doing it to get better.”

Tears well in your eyes at the opportunity being presented to you. You don’t hesitate to give him your answer.

“I’ll take it.”

You pull Spencer in for a hug and wrap your arms around his neck. Spencer wraps his arms around your waist and closes his eyes from the feeling of you being back in his arms. You pull away from him but don’t step away from him. He glances down at your lips wanting to kiss you but not wanting to overstep.

“You owe me ten bucks,” Lily says loud enough for you two to hear. “Look at them. They’re gonna kiss. I told you bringing them here was a good idea.”

You giggle at the thought of both of your daughters being little masterminds. Well, if money is on the table, you better make Lily ten bucks richer. You lean up and kiss Spencer, finally feeling like everything is right in the world.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fiction #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst

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nnight-dances · 1 year

Text

REPETITION / RARE LOVE

pairings: kim mingyu x fem!reader (ft. yoon jeonghan)

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive & sexual content

tropes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (except mingyu's the only idiot), pining, flirting

warnings: explicit language, banter, alcohol consumption, borderline jeonghan slander but it's okay because i would die for the man, has been proofread by me once but only barely. kazuha (le sserafim) is your roommate, huh yunjin is present.

WHAT TO EXPECT

it's simple enough: you and mingyu are perfect for each other. you've told him as much but after years of him avoiding the topic, you leave him alone. but when your long-time infatuation with jeonghan gets rejected, you have nothing to distract you from your desire to be with mingyu. all it takes is you making out with the wrong person and a can of beer for mingyu to come to his senses. (about 11k)

OR: maybe you don't hate repetition as much as you claim to.

SEQUEL OUT NOW!

“why are men on tinder actually vile?” you question out loud, not quite expecting an answer as your eyes continue to read the offensive opener you’d received from a recent match. mingyu, who’s crouched on the desk across from you, frowns.

“y/n, we’re meant to be studying,” he points out, “but also i thought you were over tinder?”

you look at him blankly, “i am! i just gotta finish what i started you know…”

mingyu looks deeply disappointed in you and you slide your phone across to him, “look at this message i just got! it’s disgusting! i don’t need to know if someone’s wet at the thought of—”

“god, y/n, do you have to scream?” he asks as he takes hold of your phone, busying his fingers probably with blocking the guy. you momentarily look back at your screen where the black document meant to be the outline for your final art history paper taunts you.

you sigh, looking down at your phone when mingyu returns it. “i paused your account and deleted the app.” you sigh yet again, “man! if you were gonna uninstall it without my permission you should’ve just deleted my account.”

“you’d just make another one anyway,” he shrugs, “plus, this way when you go back you’ll remember why you left in the first place.”

you grumble something under your breath but resume your attempts at writing. mingyu smiles a little as he goes back to his own work. a beat passes before, he puts his pen down again and when he sees you’re staring at your screen distantly, he asks, “did you talk to jeonghan yet?”

you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”

“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”

“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”

you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”

“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”

“i don't want an answer.”

“…”

"because i'm going to move on from him!"

"..."

“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”

“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”

“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.

—

yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”

you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”

“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”

“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”

yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”

you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”

“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”

“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”

you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.

“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”

“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.

“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”

you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”

“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”

“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”

jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”

you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”

he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”

—

“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”

you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”

“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”

you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”

five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.

he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.

“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”

“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”

“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”

you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”

time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”

“zuha, hi! did you—”

“yep, i got your lip gloss.”

you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”

mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”

kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”

“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”

“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”

“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”

“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”

“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”

mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”

“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”

you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”

“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.

“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”

“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”

mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”

you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”

“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.

“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”

kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”

jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”

“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.

swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—

you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”

he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”

you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”

you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”

“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”

“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”

“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”

you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”

the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.

as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”

mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”

“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”

he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”

“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”

he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”

—

an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.

the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.

big gyu: u look good

big gyu: kinda basic tho

you: yea i thought so too

you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.

candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.

however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.

you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”

you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.

“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”

you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”

“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”

jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”

you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”

“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”

“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.

big gyu: niceee thats hot

big gyu: u should get this dress

big gyu: pls

you: …girl why are u begging me

big gyu: because.

big gyu: you’re getting this dress right

you: no i’d die of overheating in it

big gyu: and it’d be worht it

you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...

you: wtv this one's rejected.

you: i still have another dress to try

you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.

“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”

you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”

“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”

“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”

mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”

“ugh, alright, give me five.”

in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.

“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”

you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”

“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”

“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”

his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”

you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.

“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”

jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.

“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”

“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”

you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”

he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.

as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.

entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.

you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.

you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”

“can i talk to you for a sec?”

you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”

“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”

“but, the others—”

“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”

out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.

you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”

you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”

“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”

you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.

you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”

you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”

sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”

you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.

the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.

sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.

—

the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.

you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.

his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.

“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”

you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”

mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”

you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”

mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”

“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”

he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”

“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”

she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”

you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.

“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"

“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”

he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”

you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”

“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”

“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”

“who’d be the father then?”

your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.

“did something happen between you two?”

“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”

mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”

you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”

“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”

“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.

you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”

after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.

“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”

“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”

“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”

“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”

“don’t be like that, y/n.”

“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”

mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)

“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”

“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”

“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”

mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"

“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”

he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”

you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”

“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”

“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”

he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”

you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”

“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”

“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”

“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”

“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”

“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”

“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.

mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”

you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”

—

“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”

“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”

hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”

the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?

hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”

hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”

“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”

he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”

you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”

“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.

“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”

hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”

“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”

“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”

you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.

he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”

you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”

ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.

it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.

that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.

but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.

“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”

“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”

he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.

“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.

“you’re right. routine is good for people.”

“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”

“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.

“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”

he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”

“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”

“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”

your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”

“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.

“do you ever think we should be more?”

mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?��

“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”

it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.

if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.

“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.

you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”

mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”

“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”

“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”

it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.

“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”

this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”

“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”

you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”

“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”

mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.

you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)

he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.

“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.

as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.

his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.

so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”

you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.

he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.

“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.

“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.

he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."

—

mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.

it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.

he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.

it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.

the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.

space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”

mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.

“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”

“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.

maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”

jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”

“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.

“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.

the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.

or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—

you. you’re here.

almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.

when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.

mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.

he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.

“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”

mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can’t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.

“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.

you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”

jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.

but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”

the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.

that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.

you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.

“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.

you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.

you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”

he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”

you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”

“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.

“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”

when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.

mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”

but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.

“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”

“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.

you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.

but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”

when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”

and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.

but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.

you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.

“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.

“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”

“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.

jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”

“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”

“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”

“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”

you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.

suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.

your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.

you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.

he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”

you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”

you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.

his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”

mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”

of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.

so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.

“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.

that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.

you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”

ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.

back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”

“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”

“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”

“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”

you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”

“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.

“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”

you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”

mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”

you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”

with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”

you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”

suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.

you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”

—

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.

anyway, this is my official announcement that i've become a baby carat :] didn't know how much i was missing out on before svt so this is very fun. so far, jeonghan's my favorite little guy, although as is clear from this... mingyu makes me do things. on the roster are: minghao and joshua. hopefully there will be more svt fics in the future. no promises <3 goodbye friends and foes!!

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yoichiris · 1 year

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better than letting go | nagi seishiro x reader

✩ accidental sugar daddy nagi ✩ pro-player!nagi, roommates au, angst to fluff, heavy pining, miscommunication

"just go live with nagi," reo says offhandedly, "if you clean up after him, he'll let you stay there forever."

you open your mouth to refute the suggestion, because reo knows how you feel about nagi, knows you couldn't possibly stay in an enclosed space with him hours on day on end without jumping him... but before you do, nagi himself interrupts.

"i'm okay with that," he replies in his usual laid-back voice.

you glare at him because you think he sounds more excited about the cleaning part.

"you're going to be homeless," reo shrugs, "why not?"

you return your glare at reo, "why can't you just house me in one of your billion-dollar properties."

"then i'd have to ask my old man for permission," he waves you off like the asshole he is, "no thanks."

"what's wrong with living with me?" nagi wonders, and you hate him for acting like he wants to live with you so badly.

"look, just clean nagi's dirty underwear for the next year while you finish your degree and you won't have to worry about a thing," reo explains, as if there aren't other factors like your five-year infatuation with nagi, and maybe the fact that nagi lives like he doesn't know what a vacuum does.

you sigh, thinking about the end of your lease and the astronomical increase in rent incoming, and how much you don't want to work your stupid part-time job, and give in.

of course it's not that bad. all you had to do was keep your feelings to yourself.

"nagi," you hiss, "nagi, wake up, you're going to be late!"

he only stirs, covers tucked under his chin, as if he's hiding from you. you inch the door wider, stepping into his room hesitantly. he doesn't even make a move.

"nagi," you whine, crouching at the side of his bed.

he makes a sound of acknowledgment but keeps his eyes closed, so you sit cross-legged on the floor, watching his sleeping form. he's so cute like this, you think, yearning.

it's been a week since you moved in with nagi. in a lot of ways, he's exactly what you thought he would be like in private: he's rarely home, and when he is, he's quiet.

you thought he would spend more time in his room, under the covers, but you realize quickly he's furnished his couch with the coziest throw and likes to curl under there when he is home.

it makes your heart warm when you come home to see nagi, his toes sticking out from underneath the blanket, waiting for you to eat dinner.

"...what time is it?" you hear him mumble.

your heart skips a beat when he opens his eyes, groggy with sleep, and touches your arm. you sigh shakily.

"too late," you smile softly at him, "i'll prep your pre-workout so you can take it with you, okay?"

"thanks," he tells you, his voice raspy.

he smiles back at you and reaches out, poking you in the forehead. when you feel his fingers touch your skin, you think you'll drop dead right there.

"are you gonna move out after you graduate?" reo asks, nine months into your arrangement.

you've been avoiding even thinking about it. you're busy with graduation, you justify to yourself, you don't have time to look for a new place yet.

"hm?" you hum innocently, "i dunno. haven't had time to think about it."

"nagi asked me 'bout it," he mentions casually, and you freeze. is he counting the days down until you leave?

you and nagi have settled into a daily routine: you wake him up, he goes to practice, you study after class, and when he comes back late at night, he hangs out with you for an hour before he has to sleep. mostly, you and nagi sit on either end of the couch, sharing the cozy throw, and read manga.

it's lulled you into a false sense of security, you think.

"oh," is all you manage to say. maybe he finds you bothersome? maybe he wants his own space back?

reo hits you over the head, lightly. "what's that face for? it's been going good living with nagi, right?"

and it was. it was everything you had dreamed of, and it shocked you how well you got along with nagi. you think of how, in early mornings when both of you (mostly you) are rushing out the door, bumping hips in the kitchen, even then it seems like you were working together.

"yep," you reply, sipping your iced coffee, "too good."

reo takes a bite of his food, and suggests, "maybe you two should just keep living together. you can split rent or something."

"can't rely on nagi forever," you protest.

"why not?" he says, just like he did when he had first suggested this whole thing, "isn't that what you want?"

you kick him under the table, angry that he was bringing your feelings up now. yes, you want to scream, it is. but nothing has changed between you and nagi, nothing at all.

you're always trying to keep your feelings in check: when he peers over your shoulder as you're cooking, the warmth of his body hot asgainst yours. or how adorable he looks when he comes out of the shower, his shaggy hair falling over his eyes, his face shiny. those are the times your feelings want to burst.

"just talk to nagi about it," reo nudges. you're not sure if he's talking about the housing or the feelings.

you're curled up with nagi on the couch when you muster the courage to say anything. your legs are touching his under the blanket, and you feel as if that might connect you to him.

there's a month left until you graduate, which is absolutely not enough time for you to find a place to live, but you were scared. you hear the victory sounds of nagi's mobile game, so you decide now's better than never.

"so," you start, and his gaze drifts over to you, "i haven't really found a new place to live yet."

it's quiet. "s'okay," nagi mumbles, not even looking up from his phone, "you can move out whenever."

well, at least that answers your question on whether or not he wants you to move out. at least he wasn't pushing you out the door, you tell yourself.

you don't know what else to say. do you want me to leave so badly? you want to ask. can't i stay with you? you think, desperate. but those words don't leave your mouth.

"are you coming to my graduation?" you ask lightly, and regret it when you realize that you've opened yourself up again.

he shrugs. "dunno my prac schedule yet, but reo's going right?" he replies, as if reo could replace him.

you feel cold despite the blanket, and sink deeper into the couch, feeling drained. from the corner of your eye, you see nagi tapping away at his phone, signaling to you that he's still deep in his game. you take your legs away, knowing he wouldn't even notice.

"yep," you say and awkwardly crawl out of your warm spot on the couch. "i'm gonna go to bed first, nagi."

"g'night," he replies, finally looking up as you pass him with your head bowed. he watches you walk back to your room, and doesn't take his eyes off of you until you close the door behind you.

you eventually begged reo to find you an empty unit in one of his father's rental properties.

he had been insistent you just talk to nagi, as if he knew something you didn't, but you had to explain that you did, and nagi had no objections to you moving out, and you weren't going to wait until he shoved you out the door to move on.

it has been so awkward since that small conversation you'd had with nagi. maybe it was you, feeling out of place, like you had reached a point of no return.

waking him up in the mornings were now rushed, gently pushing him awake and scurrying off before he was fully awake. leaving his pre-workout on the counter instead of handing it to him. sitting at the kitchen table under the guise of studying instead of curling up on the couch with him.

it's not that he'd changed, you knew, it's that you couldn't keep playing pretend with your feelings anymore.

you hear the front door click as nagi walks into the apartment.

"hey," he says, pushing open the door to your room, "i'm home."

you turn from your position at the front of your closet, where you were just about to take out your suitcase. "oh, hey," you reply lamely, "welcome home."

he hovers, something he's never really done, as if he knows you have something to say, as if he had something to say. the words were stuck in your throat.

"reo told me you're moving out," nagi finally tells you.

traitor, you curse at reo. "uh, yeah," you smile tightly, "i didn't want to keep bothering you, so..."

"you're not bothering me," he replies, maybe a little too quickly, but you don't notice.

there's another silence. what else can you say?

"you don't have to leave," nagi continues, "i don't mind if you stay here."

but do you want me to stay? you want to ask. the way he says it so casually, as if it didn't matter whether you stayed or not, only solidified your decision to be away from him. at least then you could just be his friend without delusions of sharing a life with him so intimately.

"nah," you try to keep your voice steady, "it's probably better this way."

"i like living with you, though," nagi shuffles his hair uncomfortably as he says it.

you laugh, maybe a little bitterly, "because i cook and clean for you?"

"no," he says quickly, looking flustered, "no, i just like it when you're here."

but why? you want to scream. your heart pounds, because you feel like you're close to something, but at the same time it feels so far. sometimes you're convinced that he knows about your feelings, that sometimes you two are talking about them even though the topic is unrelated.

"it was nice," you settle on saying, as if it wasn't life changing, "but i can afford living on my own now."

"i don't want you to leave," nagi almost sounds like he's whining, and your heart skips another beat.

"why not?" you say, frustrated, breathless, "we can't just keep living together forever."

"what if i want to?" he says, and you feel like the conversation has become out of control.

your mind is racing. what is happening right now, you try to breathe through your nose. what is he talking about right now, you try to ask yourself.

"nagi—" you stop yourself, trying to get a grip, "what are you saying?"

you're looking at him now and you're surprised by the determination in his eyes. it's what he looks like when he's really focused, like he is when he plays soccer.

"i want to live with you forever," he declares, sounding defiant, as if that wasn't what you wanted.

but you're not sure what it means. you only know that five years is a long time to be holding onto your feelings.

"i don't understand," you mumble, staring at the floor, quieter than before, "i love you, nagi. not as a friend. so no, i can't just live with you forever."

you feel him before you see him, his body towering over you. when you look up, he's pouting. he puts his hand on top of your head, gentle, warm.

"why do you look so sad," he wonders, as if he hadn't heard what you just said, "that's why i want to live with you forever, dummy."

you wake up to nagi wrapped around you.

"sei," you groan, turning in his arms to look at his sleeping face, "you're heavy."

he mutters, groggy, incoherent, and you can't help but press a kiss to his nose. his hair is falling all over his face, but your eyes memorize every slope. he squeezes you harder.

"why are you awake so early," he mutters, nudging your chest with his head, "it's my day off."

you soothe your hand down his bare back, feeling the tight muscles underneath your fingers. he works so hard, and his days off are so rare. you wiggle some more, to loosen his arms.

"i know," you smile, "but let me go make breakfast, kay? i'm hungry."

he shakes his head and whines. "no," he refuses, "just go back to sleep."

you relax, unable to tell him no. mornings with nagi often go like this, except that you usually have enough self-control to get him up. but sometimes, you remember what it was like wanting him so bad, that now you remind yourself to enjoy it.

as a partner, nagi is clingy, vulnerable. but he's also determined, and sometimes, the intensity with which he wants you catches you off guard.

"y/n," he calls, his breath hot against your neck, "i'm happy you're here."

you close your eyes, nodding. "me, too."

#blue lock x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #bllk x reader #yoi's crops 🌱#from: nagi seishiro 🎀

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seresinhangmanjake · 3 months

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Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader on her period

Summary: Feyd doesn’t like anyone keeping him from his wife’s side, especially when she’s in pain.

*Based on an anon ask. Whoever that was, I hope this makes it to you :)*

Notes/Warnings: the subject is reader’s period; period pain; naive Feyd; threatening and aggressive Feyd; soft Feyd; Feyd hates everyone but his wife; allusion to period sex but no actual smut, mention of pregnancy.

Words: 1150

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

“Get out of my way!” he snaps from the other side of the bedroom door, and you swell with guilt as you imagine your handmaid shivering like an unprotected baby critter. Which, in Giedi Prime, is exactly what she is.

She’s your critter that, at your request three weeks ago, Feyd agreed to have accompany you from your home planet following the wedding. You wanted something familiar and comfortable within reach and told him her presence would support you in adapting to your new life as his wife.

At the time, you took his compliance as a promising sign. He didn’t particularly care for the people of Caladan, but he cared for you enough to set aside his distaste for an additional outsider in his palace. But that distaste never fails to return tenfold whenever the Caladanian traditions and practices that your handmaid refuses to let go of get in Feyd’s way.

“Move!” you hear in that menacing tone.

You want to rush to her defense before things get out of hand, but you can’t so much as shift on the bed without your body aching.

“M-My Lord,” Nadya stutters. “It’s not proper to see my Lady in her condition.”

A groan rips from your throat from more than just the pain in your abdomen. You’ve tried to explain to her that the Harkonnens do not abide by the same parameters of modesty that your people do, but she’s not nearly as open-minded when it comes to accepting a different lifestyle. However, she needs to shut her mouth and let him pass. There are much worse things than your husband witnessing you in the throes of monthly bleeding.

Feyd practically growls, and then you hear the scrape of a metal knife unsheathing and a light feminine gasp.

“I have not killed you solely because she requested it of me,” he says. “But if you refuse to let me see my wife, then I have no reason to continue my generosity and you will be offered to my harpies for their nighttime meal.”

Fuck. You know he’ll do it. Your husband is an ‘ask for forgiveness, not permission’ kind of man, and the fact that his harpies have been eyeing your handmaid for a while only encourages his mind’s reasoning.

Reaching toward your nightstand, your fingers wrap around the handle of the little service bell you were given and give it a shake. A moment later, the door opens a crack.

“My Lady,” your handmaid says in response to your call. She attempts to slip her body through a narrow opening between the door and its frame to prevent your husband’s entry, but Feyd shoves her aside at the first opportunity and rushes inside the room.

His brow furrows at the sight of your body curled into a ball. “My love…” he mutters, racing to your side and kneeling by the bed. He takes your hand and weaves your fingers together, his worried gaze raking over your form. “What happened? What is this?”

“My Lady, I tried to stop–”

“Quiet!” Feyd snaps, shooting your handmaid a glare. “I’ll still gut you!”

Your fingers squeeze his to draw his attention back to you. “Go, Nadya. It’s ok,” you tell her. “My husband can take care of me.”

Feyd lips curl upward slightly, but his anxiety over your current state blocks a full-fledged smile from forming. His other hand raises to cup your cheek and you hum under his soft touch.

In the corner of your eye, you can see Nadya hesitate. The frown on her face is prominent enough to be detected without your gaze directly upon her. But her agitation must cease. She has to learn and conform if she values her life. There is only so much you can do to protect her, and if Feyd reaches the breaking point of his willingness to allow opposition within his own marriage—especially due to someone who is neither you nor him—it’s unlikely you’ll be able to sneak her onto a ship and transport her back to Caladan before she is executed.

You’ll have another discussion with her—the fourth, you think—once your body decides to end its self-punishment; assuming she survives that long. For the moment, at least, she has accepted your instruction and left you alone with your husband.

“You’re hurting,” Feyd says once Nadya is gone. “How do I stop it?”

“It’ll stop in a couple of days.”

“Days?” he echoes, offended at the information. “I want it to stop now!”

You sigh, placing your hand atop the one holding your cheek. “That would be nice, but that's not how it works,” you tell him. A pang of pain stabs your stomach and you moan.

“How what works?” he rushes out.

“My monthly–”

You pause at the curious expression on his face, and you realize he has no idea what you're talking about. You thought it was obvious what was wrong with you. You thought he understood. But then you remember he has lived a life with no mother, no sisters, no female relatives. There was no one to explain to him the unfair complexities of being a woman. And the Baron certainly wouldn’t have bothered. The way that man-beast mentally operates teaches that women are good for producing heirs, and in that respect, all Feyd would have needed to learn is how to stick his hard cock between a woman’s legs. To your appreciation, he does that quite well, but still, it’s surprising as much as unsurprising that your husband is so naive.

Before you can expand your answer, Feyd says, “I’m not letting this happen ever again.”

You chuckle. “It’s monthly, my love, and I’m afraid it only doesn’t happen if I’m pregnant.”

“Then I’ll make you pregnant,” he responds with an air of great determination. “And I’ll keep you that way.”

You’re instantly obsessed with the thought; perhaps too much considering you’ve known the man for two months and have been married to him for significantly less, but you do love him. And being filled with his baby creates an image that swirls a fire in your belly to combat some of the deep ache.

You grin but it lasts only a second before your teeth are forced to clench, eyelids pinching shut at another wave of agony.

“I hate this,” Feyd says, brushing your hair back from your face.

Once you ride out the wave, your eyes open to meet his. “You know,” you start, your breath heavy. “I’ve heard rumors from other women back home about something that helps with the pain.” Feyd’s features eagerly come to life. “It’s a bit messy, though.”

“Whatever it is, my love, I’ll do it.”

“Ok,” you say, a lazy smile curving your lips. “Take off your clothes.”

Feyd’s eyes widen at the request. And then he smirks.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha #austin butler #dune part 2 #dune fic #feyd rautha harkonnen

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toast-on-dandelioms · 3 months

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🕷️Just Another Neglected Story🕷️

[previous] - Part 4.1 - [next]

Any names that you find familiar, in this part, were taken (with permission) from the fanart made by @the-broken-truth, while some changes like description of what's happening were made by me then modified by my beta reader, my bbg, Jamie.

tw: Joker, angst/no comfort, small description of injuries, small description/mention of a panic attack (I am unsure if it was that, please tell me if I am wrong).

Weeks passed with you still being Spider and a 'normal' teenager at the same time. But some changes and new things happened in these weeks.

You got visited by Superman almost daily, or nightly since he always visited when you were patrolling at night. You never questioned how he knew where to find you, you didn't want to think about it and just let him follow you during your nightly patrols.

He also helped you train while using all of your strength because you usually held back in fear of hurting people, so his tips helped a lot considering that he also had the same problem before.

Furthermore, now that you started to help with small problems around Gotham, like small thefts and gang problems, those problems started to slowly stop, giving you more time to train with Superman and help around the community.

You still didn't join the Bats or even the Justice League whenever Superman tried to propose it, you just didn't want to fight big shots like Joker or other super villains.

You liked doing small things and loved seeing the change it brought from you helping.

Just defeating super villains won't reward you with a pie from the nice old lady after helping her move her things in the apartment and give her groceries if she can't go to the supermarket, or getting drawings of little kids after you help them go home safely.

You also scored candies whenever the moms had them, which made you incredibly happy because they always had the candies you loved.

So you were happy, especially since Alfred never mentioned your breakdown after that night and kept on the usual routine of leaving your food on the desk in your room so you wouldn't have to come down to the kitchen.

You did notice him acting a bit weird but you pushed those thoughts aside since you didn't really notice anything weird happening around the Manor so you thought he was just nervous for something Bruce did.

You gave him too much trust and sooner than later you will regret doing that.

But something did change around the Manor, you just didn't notice because you started to walk on the ceiling, without shoes or Alfred would kill you, to avoid annoying encounters with anyone in the house, even if listening to music while on the ceiling was a bit difficult but you’re managing.

Well, Alfred knew that if he walked to Bruce and told him about you and what you felt he would've been ignored, especially since Bruce barely remembers that you even exist in the Manor and that you're a member of the family.

And even if Bruce did remember that you exist he would be annoyed, especially since he clearly hated your mother and was only paying the child support because he had to, especially since your mother threatened to take him to court if he wouldn't pay when he first got the news.

Talking to any of the batkids would've also been useless, because he also knew that no one in the Manor remembers you, especially now that you could walk on walls no one could even see you.

He couldn't count how many times he almost got a heart attack whenever he could see you on the ceiling, just hanging out or doing your homework, even though he still didn't understand how you could work without gravity making everything fall.

So he decided to do it in small steps, starting with leaving photos of you around the house in places where everyone sees them.

He put almost every picture that he owns of you, like you at a dance recital as the lead dancer or you at a science fair to which you won first place with an invention of yours.

One thing Alfred knew by putting your photos was that every person would notice how in all your photos you were alone and how your face never showed any emotion.

He knew it was small but he couldn't wait anymore, he needed to take action now or before you decided to leave for the Kent family, he couldn't let you go after he heard you talk about Clark and Conner while he made food in the kitchen.

He just hoped it wasn't too late for you, especially with your break down. He hoped you could still let someone in after all these years of being alone.

He did try his best but he was only a butler and he couldn't change someone's view of another person if that view was filled with hatred.

And you never noticed thanks to your walking on the ceiling or walls, moreover, you couldn't care less if they actually noticed you now. You were finally moving on and having a new start thanks to Spider.

But now it's not the time to think of Alfred's attempt of getting you acknowledged by the family, you were getting busier thanks to all the work as Spider, school and also dance classes.

You also kept on using yourself as a test subject, just to check the process of the spider DNA that's now in your DNA and seeing if anything changed or you had some mysterious new powers, taking videos to record the process of your evolution with the now Spider DNA in your body.

One thing you acquired after a while was invisibility, or camouflage as you called it since invisibility sounded magical and you didn't want it to sound like you were a kid.

How you found out you could use it was not a good experience.

You were in the kitchen with Alfred, just hanging out with him while he cooked when Damian suddenly entered the room to ask Alfred for some food for a new pet that he adopted.

In your panic at the sheer thought of Damian seeing you and hurting you like he did in the past made you freeze up, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes that he would just disappear from existence. Praying to every god you could recall that Damian wouldn't find you, you tried to not breathe too loudly so he wouldn’t hear you.

After a few minutes of paranoia passed and you didn't hear anything around you, you slowly opened your eyes and saw Damian still waiting for Alfred to give him the food for a cat he adopted and completely ignoring you.

You were still scared he would see you so you stayed silent and waited patiently, albeit apprehensively, for him to go away before actually making a sound, which was a loud sigh of restrained relief as air poured back into your lungs. Somehow you hadn't noticed that you'd been holding your breath the whole time. Strange.

You slowly got down from the counter you were sitting on and walked up to Alfred, confused as to why the old man wasn't looking at you and instead was looking at the ceiling before softly calling out his name.

You got even more confused and slightly worried when he got scared since you were standing right in front of him but he, for some reason, couldn't see you.

After a bit of Alfred trying to explain that he couldn't actually see you and you not understanding why, you finally managed to make yourself visible.

You quickly went to work at the corporation to take a few tests to see what happened and didn't see anything with those tests but after a few days of trying to understand what happened and how you could make it happen again, you managed to go invisible on command.

It took a bit but you managed to do it, which got extremely useful to sneak into the kitchen when you need to get some snacks in the middle of the night so that Alfred doesn't catch you on the wall eating chips at 3 am.

Plus thanks to that time you found out that your eyes glow in the dark, which was a bit weird since the spider that bit you wasn't a bioluminescent one but you figured it was your own DNA that changed some things.

In the time following that discovery and training with Clark, you slowly started to join him in solo missions for the Justice League, but made sure to tell him that you didn't want to partner up with another person except him.

And you made sure that he knew you weren't an official member of the Justice League or of the Young Justice League, you just joined him so you wouldn't get rusty since Gotham is still filled with crime but fighting with teens or men who just swing a crowbar or knife is not really challenging.

You didn't want anyone except Clark to join those solo missions, not because you were scared of hurting another person since you learned to control your strength thanks to him and got pretty good with your spider senses.

You just hated being around people you didn't know or trust, especially if they were a member of the Wayne family, you absolutely detested them.

You refused to look at them and especially talk to them even though you had the voice modulator.

One of the many reasons you used the voice modulator was to not get recognised but also because you hated your own voice and the voice modulator helped when talking to lost kids or just kids in general.

You never told anyone why you hate your voice, you just refused to talk one day and learned asl to communicate with people and also used notes if people didn't know asl.

The mask was like a hearing aid, it changed your voice and helped you use it more so you could talk sometimes.

As time passed, the birdies (basically all of Bruce's kids, you just called them all bird to show how much you didn't care about them) kept on trying to talk to you and showing up where you were when you were patrolling.

You had a list of most annoying to less annoying since you couldn't really do much about them, especially since Clark forbade you to throw another one of them off a roof if they got too close to your liking or just breathed wrong.

They never sustained grave injuries since you always threw them to another building or a dumpster, or to Superman if he was around.

Most of the time in a dumpster to make yourself smile since you would take a photo then swing away before they could do anything, but they started to pose whenever you would take a photo, making you annoyed and ruining your fun.

The most annoying was Dick, with how persistent he was even if he was stuck on a wall thanks to your webs when he got too close or made you uncomfortable by continuing to call you nicknames that he would use with Damian and Tim.

You hated how he would just laugh and call you his little sibling, especially since he would never call you that if you didn't have a mask on and you felt that it was unfair that he suddenly cared about you just because of the mask.

It made you feel like you were getting ignored and forgotten once again but this time to a version of you that he likes while the one behind the mask is always getting ignored.

Just like at the Manor, the real you will never be appreciated and accepted with love.

The second most annoying in the list is Tim, it was gonna be Damian but Tim took second place with how creepy he is around you and how he knows too much of what you do.

Like, you knew he's the one who knows everything about every hero and villain since you saw him work on the bat-computer while you were stealing a few grappling hooks for your web shooters since they broke. (You were invisible and you got lucky that Cassandra wasn't there or she would've found you immediately.)

But seeing him open a folder and watching how many videos and photos he has of you in the bat-computer, like when you were fighting some gang members or when you were helping some nice old lady crossing the street.

If anyone else showed you their collection of you doing badass or just normal stuff while you were a vigilante then you would've felt impressed and very honored because you never thought someone would actually go out their way to be a fan of you.

But seeing Tim, someone you still had some respect for, having so many files, especially from when you first started and hit so many walls while swinging around made you weirded out and somehow violated, especially with how concentrated he was while staring at the videos.

Seeing that folder and all the information he had on you made you lose all the respect you still had for the boy.

Another thing he did was that, whenever you met him while patrolling or eating a few hot dogs with your favorite guy, he would always talk of things you did like he was there and creeped you out so much that you had to restrain yourself from throwing him off a roof or wherever you two were.

Most of the time you just tased him and went your way, paying the hotdog guy a little extra so he wouldn't stop selling you hot dogs.

You're also starting to think that hot dog guy is using you for the tips since you always tip him 50$ or more to stay silent and let you grab more hot dogs from him.

Third annoying but still so annoying that you want to punch his face is Damian. Mostly because he treats you like you're his older sibling.

Like he respects you and looks up to you. But you knew it was because of the mask since you also knew that if you ever took off the mask in front of him he would try to kill you.

You have to be supervised by Clark and even Jon since your only solution to get rid of Damian when he’s around you is throwing him off a roof without worrying about not using your super strength.

You hated the kid and didn't really hide it but he never said anything about it since he thought you two were bonding and you acting like you hate him is normal.

You wanted to tase him when he dared to call you his older sibling in Arabic, hating the look on his face that had so much adoration and admiration for you since it actually made him look like a normal teen.

(You learned some Arabic to get close to Damian when you found out where he was from when you were young)

Like he didn't create so many scars on your arms and legs with his sword and those batarangs. Like he didn’t make you so afraid of the Manor that Alfred had to assure you that he wouldn’t hurt you or you would get a panic attack by getting near the Manor.

Least annoying but still annoying is Jason Todd. You hate that mask he wears because you can't see his face and know what he’s really thinking about, and especially how he acts like you two are two old friends who meet up everyday.

You hate how he pats you on the head when you're distracted, since the spider sense doesn't really deem him a threat for you, and manages to evade your attempts to kick him away or throw him off a roof, laughing whenever you try to do so.

Like you two were just playing and you weren't angry at him and wanting to throw something at him but couldn't.

So your one solution was ignoring him and walking to the side of the building so he wouldn't reach you since he couldn't walk on walls like you.

Which did make you smug whenever he complained about it on the roof of the same building, finding it funny when he acted all offended when he understood you were smug by how you were acting even if your mask didn’t show your face.

Yea you and Jason did get along sometimes, most of the time if you were having a nice day and if he was the first one you would meet of the birds.

You had a decent relationship with Jason, yes you did have fun sometimes but you wouldn't call him a friend or even your brother.

Plus you never forgot about the years he would ignore you and especially when he punched you in the eye and didn't even apologize decently.

Or how he would complain about how terrible of a father Bruce is, or how annoying Dick is to anyone else while you would just stand there, completely ignored since he was probably talking to someone else or to himself.

And acted like he was the only one who's life was 'ruined' when Bruce got in his life when he's still loved even after everything he's done.

Even though he's still remembered every Christmas and given big gifts that means that the person who bought them thought of him, and birthday while no one even remembered you had a birthday and you always celebrated it with a cupcake or some friends.

So you preferred to ignore him or you would punch his skull if he tried to complain one more time about Batman and his death.

Not like Cassandra, Duke and Stephanie were any better.

Cassandra was annoying because of how silent she was. You always managed to see her but you knew she wanted you to see her.

Plus, 'hanging out' with her was just you doing your usual stuff while she followed since you couldn't push her away like the others.

And fighting wasn't in the option since she could kick your ass with just a hand and without moving, so you just ignored her, even though your spider sense was always going crazy when she was around since she was a walking threat.

Even five minutes with her would give you the worst headaches that you had to ask her to stand very far or you wouldn't be able to even walk around without wanting to puke.

You hated her because she was taken in by Bruce like you but instead of being hated because of her upbringing, she got accepted with open arms and he always loved her.

What did she have that you didn't?! Why does she get all the attention and love you always wished for while you're getting forgotten and hated?!

You saw her getting accepted, getting all the love you always wished for, seeing your father going to her dance recitals while he didn't even bother to even acknowledge that you do the same sport as her but in a different and smaller dance studio since you couldn't afford to go to the one Cassandra goes because of how expensive even one lesson was.

Stephanie was another person you hated. You knew of her past, you used the bat-computer whenever no one was in the batcave when you managed to control the invisibility.

You knew about what her dad did. You understood her reasoning to become a vigilante. You didn't hate her for her past, god you didn't even care who her father was.

You just hated her because of how loved she was by everyone. She was like Cassandra but once again, all the love was going towards the two and it never even touched you.

You did try to bond with her when you arrived at the Manor but she did look like she wanted to be everywhere but not with you.

Even when you only talked about things you knew she loved, it still wasn't enough for her. She still avoided you and preferred to spend time with either Barbara, Dick or Tim.

And after a bit you gave up and let her live her life without you in her way since she clearly didn't care about you.

The worst part was that everyone prefers Spider than you, since she also keeps trying to hang out with you when you're patrolling or spending time with kids and teens.

Or getting beat during a game of basketball since you sucked at that game and the teens you played with would tease you which made you laugh since you liked spending time with people the same age as you.

But it would be ruined when she would show up, wanting to play too even though she would just play with you and make it obvious she wanted to make you win.

Which ruined the game entirely for you and always made you leave after a bit with the excuse of being busy as a vigilante, which made the teens and also Stephanie confused.

Duke was the only one of them that you knew tried to hang out with you when you weren't Spider. That's why he was one of the ones you hang out with most if he came to see you while you were patrolling.

He came when you were almost 15, you didn't remember how old you were but you knew he was one of the ones who actually paid attention to you.

But after a while, all his duties as Signal, as a high schooler and as one of Bruce's kids made him too busy for him to spend time with you, to which he explained whenever he was late for something you two planned to do.

And you understood, you cheered for him from the back and always smiled at him whenever he was with you as Signal, even if he couldn't see it. And he did tell you the best places to get food during patrols so you liked him for that, but you remained loyal to the hot dog guy.

But then there was Bruce, acting like he was the savior from his kids that kept annoying you even though he wasn't any better than any of his kids, he was one of the worst in terms of how annoying he was.

He was starting to compete with Dick for the first spot on your list, which you didn't like since you just wanted to be alone, or with Duke and Jason.

Like he would keep on calling you kid and other nicknames you heard him give to his sons over the years, which made you sick because it reminded you of when you were little and that your biggest wish was to also get a nickname like your brothers and sisters and spend time with him as your father even if he never paid any actual attention to you.

But what you hated most was how he always smiled softly at you, even when you tried to kick him away and he would just grab your ankle like it was nothing, like you were his favorite child. Like he didn't tell you that he would never be a father to you when you gave him a father's day card when you were 12 and trying to bond with him.

Looking at you with so much love and adoration, making you disgusted since he was the same man who once looked at you with disgust and hatred just for entering his office because you needed his signature for something.

The same man who clearly told you to not expect him to treat you like his child since you weren't. You were just an annoying kid who had to come to his house since no one else wanted to take you in.

You wanted to puke whenever he looked with love, refusing to forget about everything he did just because you were a child of someone he hated.

You understood why Bruce hated your mother, you couldn't force everyone to like what you like, but you still didn't understand why he had to ruin your life by keeping you with him.

He could have sent you to a foster home, he could have sent you to boarding school all your life so he could never see the face of the one he hates. But he didn't.

No, he decided to accept you in his home and ruined your life, making you miserable by keeping you there and then basically neglecting you and forgetting you even exist.

You wanted to puke whenever he looked at you with love when you were Spider, you had to take so many showers and had to scrub your skin so hard it turned red by how hard you tried to wash away his touch whenever he managed to actually touch you on either the shoulders or head.

You found comfort in Clark since he never forced you to interact with the Robins and Batman and understood why you hated them since you explained to him who you were but didn't tell him everything.

He did annoy you whenever he tried to suggest you to come with him to Metropolis even after you explained that you couldn't just move to another city right in the middle of the school year.

Moreover you were still a minor and you would need Bruce's consent, which you refused to ask since you refused to acknowledge that he was supposed to be your legal guardian.

Plus you always had fun with his kids when they were around since they would throw you in the air and catch you, making you laugh like crazy since their throw was like making you fly for like 2 minutes before catching you.

Conner was more fun to be around because he understood what you were going through since he also had problems with Superman when the kryptonian refused to accept the clone as his son.

Plus he always made the best jokes and made you laugh whenever you would have a bad day after seeing your legal guardian and his kids having a fun outing together while you were at the Manor since they didn't even remember you existed.

Or when you had a bad dance practice and almost destroyed your pointe shoes with your strength because you thought you weren't good enough to be a ballet dancer which spiraled to thinking that because of you not being good at dancing then you weren't good enough to be recognised by your legal guardian and his family.

He was more like an older brother than Dick, Jason and Tim ever were for you. And you didn't even care, you loved him as a brother and loved hanging out with him.

Jon was nice but he was also friends with Damian and you didn't really spend that much time with him because of that. You were scared Damian would be with him and you didn't want to see the evil spawn.

But the times you did hang out with him were nice, he always brought cake that his grandparents made and shared it with you while you listened to him talk about whatever he wanted.

He was fun and very nice but you weren't used to hanging around a small teen who actually wanted to be with you and actively seeked you out for your attention.

You were more used to a small teen who would glare at you and attack you if you dared do anything, even just breathing in his direction, the scars on your arms and back proved that.

But you never said anything to Jon about what his best friend did to you, you didn't want Jon to feel like he had to choose between two sides.

And you knew he would choose Damian's side, no one ever chose your side. You knew no one would even dare to be by your side.

Well after a while of going to missions with Clark and him letting you do most of the work as training with his close by to make sure you wouldn't get hurt, you were finally going on a relatively simple mission with Conner and unfortunately with Jason.

You knew Conner didn't want him there but he probably got Batman to convince Clark and him, so you didn't say anything to him about Jason being there and just stayed by his side while you were in the small ship.

The whole ride was spent in silence, only stopped whenever Conner would check the coordinates or by the sound of you fixing the web shooters to make sure they wouldn't go haywire when you were fighting.

You finally landed in the spot where you were supposed to start your mission, near the villain's lair, if you could call it that since it was an unused bunker a group of cultists found and are now living there, which made you get down eagerly since you wanted to finally do a mission without Clark's supervision.

But your excitement immediately died when you saw Stephanie waiting for you there, making you let out a loud string of curses.

And yes, you did ignore the message on your phone from Clark that said 'language' and just walked past Stephanie and Jason, just wanting to get the mission done and go home with Conner.

Plus he did promise you his grandmother's best pie if you finished the mission and you could not pass up the opportunity of getting another slice of that delicious pie.

As you walked up to the lair with Conner, you patted him on the back before standing in front of the door as Stephanie tried to open it by picking the lock. You waited exactly 10 seconds for Stephanie to unlock the door before pushing her away, kicking the door down with your strength since she was taking too long for your liking.

You didn't even care if they were watching, you just glared at them all in silence for a few seconds before they were able to hear you say.

"Stay here and you two don't follow me, Conner don't try anything or I will tell Clark"

Then, right in front of them you became invisible before walking off, the only sound they could hear were of your sneakers walking down the metallic stairs.

(Switch Pov to Stephanie)

Stephanie knew she wasn't the best person. She knew of her father's evil doings and she knew she wasn't the best Robin or the best vigilante.

But when she saw Spider, she thought that they were perfect. They were always helping people and never too busy for everyone.

She, at first, didn't even know who Spider is because of how busy she was with her life and her vigilante job. But when she saw Tim researching them, she was amazed.

She knew there were other vigilantes in the city, it was a big city but she didn't know about a vigilante who didn't fight big villains like the others.

She saw Spider helping old ladies, stopping small gangs from forming by helping the teens and just being an image for the people to rely on.

She knew Bruce stopped high grade villains like Joker or others but Spider, Spider was different.

They didn't fight Joker, no they just fought the criminals who would bother people that couldn't do anything to stop them.

She admired the vigilante and wanted to be friends with them, maybe one day she could convince them to join her and her family at the Manor.

But what she didn't understand even though she craved to know was why they hated her. Why they hated her and the rest of her family.

She tried so much, she craved their validation so much that she trained so hard and tried so many times to interact with them.

But she would keep on getting ignored or she wouldn't be able to follow them by the speed of them swinging or when they walk on walls to avoid her.

She cried so many nights at the thought of her idol, the one person she wanted, no craved validation would hate her so much when she can't even remember or know why they hate her so much.

But when she heard of Jason joining Spider for their first mission, she was so jealous that she used the bat-computer to check where Spider's mission was supposed to be and followed them in another ship.

She wanted to show to her idol how brave she was, so maybe they will praise her and laugh like when they're with Conner, Clark and Jon.

Plus she wanted to wipe Jason's smirk off his face since he kept on bragging about going to a mission with Spider for days and how he was the favorite since compared to the rest of them, he was the one who Spider stayed the longest before leaving or throwing him off the roof.

But all her excitement and hope died the minute she heard Spider curse when they saw her, her head slowly lowering as she tried not to cry.

And when Spider told them to stay there, god she wanted to protest but strangely Jason held her back and just told her to hack in the security system to watch Spider with the cameras.

She didn't understand why she couldn't follow Spider to help them but did as Jason told her to, watching all the cameras with him and seeing henchmen getting knocked out or tased by Spider even though they weren't visible.

Plus she found it hilarious when a goon got knocked out by a flying metal tray and the others just stood there confused before also getting knocked out by a taser or a punch then getting tied up on a wall or floor.

As she watched the security feed, she noticed that Spider entered the boss's sanctuary, filled with small and useless artifacts that the Justice League used to trace the villain so they could capture him and stop him before he tried to grow his cult or summon some demon.

She kept watching and trying to find a camera inside the sanctuary, starting to get annoyed and also panicking a little because if she couldn't see anything in the sanctuary then she couldn't call for backup if something went wrong, especially by how far Spider was, and even if they were going to help them, it would take too long.

She kept on switching cameras and trying to hack into anything that was electronic, getting more frustrated as time passed since she could see the villain approaching the sanctuary with someone next to him, making her confused since he wasn't supposed to have partners that helped him.

She managed to switch a camera in time to see Joker next to the villain, the blood in her face draining as she stared at the clown on her screen in silence, her eyes wide like bugs and no sound could be heard from all three of the teens.

She went back to where Spider was and noticed a camera was on, to which Stephanie immediately tried to warn them by moving the camera a bit but it was too late and both villains entered the sanctuary and closed the door so Spider wouldn't be able to leave without getting noticed by the cultist and the clown.

She watched the feed without moving any part of her body in terror that if she even moved then the two villains would notice Spider and do something horrible to them.

She gasped when she saw Joker suddenly pulling out a gun and pointing it at where Spider was supposed to be, not managing to hear what he was saying since the cameras were old and didn't register any sounds, plus his psycho-smile made it difficult for her to read his lips so she couldn't even use that to her advantage.

As Stephanie kept watching, not noticing that she was holding her breath by how focused she was on Joker then cursed loudly when she saw the screen turn black, throwing the tablet in anger as she got up, making signs for Jason and Conner to follow as she ran into the lair.

She quickly jumped over any henchmen on the ground, needing to get to Spider immediately and save them.

She had to help. She had to stop that psychopath from hurting them. She needed to protect them.

As she ran, her vision was starting to get blurry by the tears threatening to fall as she ran. As she ran, she suddenly got blocked by the metal door that was blocking her from saving Spider.

She immediately called Conner, wanting to use his strength to open the door but unfortunately he couldn't even throw a decent punch that could leave a dent on it.

Even after a few tries Conner didn't do anything so she started to try to open it by using the panel next to the door, her frustration already growing by how useless he was.

So Stephanie sent Conner outside to call Superman and Batman while she and Jason tried to open the door as they waited for the two heroes to arrive.

As the three of them waited for Batman and Superman to come, Jason and Stephanie saw something coming out the door that made their blood cold.

Some form of gas kept on coming out the door and the only thing they were able to hear were some noises of something or someone getting hit and coughing.

Stephanie did smell the gas, trying to pinpoint what the gas was but she couldn't recognise it since the only thing she could detect was that it had a sweet smell, which was nothing like all the gasses she ever smelled before.

The only thing she knew is that the gas wasn't the usual gas Joker uses on his victims since she wasn't laughing or having a maniacal smile but she still couldn't pinpoint what the gas was.

Stephanie stayed silent, trying not to show how terrified she was while Jason was trying to kick down the door while yelling curses directed at Joker.

Conner was outside the lair to use the ship and communicate with Batman and Superman, knowing they were both on different missions and he couldn't fly to both of them to ask for help, especially since he found out that he couldn't even fly, making him even more desperate for them to come.

As they waited Stephanie tried to make Jason stop punching the door when she saw his knuckles bleed, not wanting another one of her siblings get hurt because of her incompetence before looking at the door.

The blood drained from her face, her knees giving up on her and making her fall to the ground as she heard a scream, the cold metal floor the only thing she could feel at the moment.

She knew the scream couldn't be of Joker. He heard him yell before and this scream wasn't his. She hoped for every god as she tried to hack the panel of the door, even though she already tried before, with a bit of difficulty, her vision starting to blur as tears started to fall and her hands trembling as she was trying to ignore the multiple screams she kept hearing.

She couldn't let Spider get hurt, she should've been there to help them. They didn't deserve the pain and hurt she and almost all of the Robins went through because of Joker.

She stopped when she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder, the realization that she was just messing up the wires and making it even more difficult for the door to be opened when she looked at her hands tangled in between the wires.

She looked up at the man and visibly relaxed, completely giving out on the floor as Jason helped her by cutting the wires tangled in her hands while Batman examined what was happening as Conner explained what he knew, Superman next to him and waiting for Batman to give orders since he knew that if he acted irrationally then Spider would be in danger.

(Switch to Bruce's POV)

Bruce knew he wasn't a good person and a hero like Clark and Diana, that's why he called himself a vigilante since heroes save people and stop criminals but he couldn't save everyone.

Sometimes he was too late and he couldn't save someone innocent that unfortunately crossed ways with a villain or a gang.

Another thing Bruce knew was that he wasn't the best father because he let his kids get hurt by going on patrols with him as a vigilante, not thinking about what could happen to them if they fought someone too strong or if he suddenly decided to make them stop being a vigilante by saying that it was to protect them, which made everyone sneak out to be a vigilante.

He had to bury his children too early because of vigilantism and couldn't help his son when he was being trained by the League of Assassins.

But when he saw Spider for the first time, seeing a child that looked no older than 14, maybe 15, made him think that maybe, maybe he could help this one become the best version of themselves.

And if he was good enough, he could be a father again and get another child saved from the darkness and evil that surrounds Gotham.

Even if the only evil Spider saw was him and his family.

One thing he hated was that he couldn't understand why Spider absolutely loathed him and everyone of the vigilantes who live or have lived under his roof.

He couldn't understand why and even after checking every mission he ever did that included helping kids/teens in Gotham, nothing gave him a lead as to why Spider hated him.

And the worst thing was that Spider decided, out of all the heroes and vigilantes in the world, and especially in the Justice League, to trust and get close to Clark.

To Clark! His enemy! He was supposed to be the one teaching Spider to control their strength! He was supposed to be the one laughing with them while eating hot dogs and sharing funny stories of stupid people they say during patrol.

(He knows about it thanks to a small camera he put on Clark’s costume after he found out that he and Spider got close)

He didn't trust letting them go on a mission even if Clark told him that they could and that they were ready.

He thought it was too early and that they weren't trained to fight villains like he and the others fight everyday, especially with Conner since he wasn't perfectly trained so he managed to convince Clark, with much manipulation and guilt tripping, to let Jason come with them if there was trouble.

He didn't know Stephanie would also be there, especially since he didn't talk about it in the batcave about the mission but he already guessed that Jason bragged about going so she also went to also see her idol, knowing about her obsession with Spider to which he didn't say anything but encourage it with his own obsession towards the arachnid vigilante.

Not that he minded, two of his kids were better than none and Spider needed all the protection necessary even if the mission was one of the easiest possible. Especially since he chose it as a way to make sure Spider wouldn't be in actual danger.

But the moment he got a message from Conner explaining that Spider was in danger because of Joker, someone who wasn't supposed to be there in the first place, made his world crumble as he ran to where his jet was, needing to get there as soon as possible.

He couldn't let another person, no he couldn't let Spider get hurt or worse, killed, by the clown bastard.

He needed to save them, he needed to stop that fucking clown and he couldn't let Clark beat him to it. He knew that if he was the first one to save them, to help them then they would trust him more.

He couldn't lose that huge advantage to Clark or it would be impossible to even be able to get Spider to trust him or any of his kids. Which was already difficult but he saw them being more comfortable with Duke and Jason.

He arrived almost 3 seconds before Clark did, even though the kryptonian made his presence known since he made a crater at his landing and looked extremely infuriated as he walked towards Conner.

Bruce was already next to the boy and listening to his explanation on what happened, his usual frown that always made him seem annoyed with everything since he didn't want to show that he was scared.

He listened to superboy as he explained what happened in detail as they walked in the lair, a small smile appearing on his face whenever he saw henchmen and cultists knocked out and all tied up in Spider's web.

As they walked he noticed Conner and Clark weren't flying even if the space was big enough for them to even float, so he approached the boy, knowing it couldn't be Clark since the kryptonian was flying just two seconds ago, to see if he had anything on him and saw a familiar glowing green stuck to the boy's shirt.

He quickly grabbed it and put it in a container to block its effect since he knew it was kryptonite, the result showing on both kryptonians because they now could fly again.

He showed the container containing the kryptonite when both Supers looked at him "it was on Superboy's shirt, not sure who put it on him" he explained, now confused but especially enraged to who dared to interfere with the mission and put Spider in danger.

When they arrived at the door he saw something that made him frown more but also worried. He saw Stephanie continuing to tangle her hands in the wires of the panel next to the door, probably trying to open it but he saw her shaking and sobbing, making him understand that the girl was too focused on trying to save the vigilante inside the room that she couldn't focus on the task she was doing.

He then turned to Jason and saw him kicking the door and punching it, small dents on it to show how much strength he was putting in it and his bloody knuckles showing for how long he was doing that.

Bruce quickly checked on Stephanie and Jason before telling Superman to get rid of the door, the silence around them being too suspicious and dangerous since almost 2 minutes before they arrived both Stephanie, Conner and Jason could hear screaming from inside the room.

Dividers were made by @cafekitsune so please check them out because they do amazing stuff.

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