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celestie0 · 6 months

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

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

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

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

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

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

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

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

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“LCD.”

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

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

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

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

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

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

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feelings about what?”

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

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

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

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

You sigh.

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

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

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

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

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

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

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

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

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

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

“No.”

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

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

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

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

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

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

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

“Go back where?”

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

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

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

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

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

“I beg your finest pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“D-Distraction?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You could have a concussion.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

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

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck was that—”

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

“I—”

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

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

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

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

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

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

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

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

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

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

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You purse your lips together.

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

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

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

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

“Alright cool, will do.”

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand. “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry.

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—”

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does.

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.”

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done.

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you.

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look.

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing.

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness.

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing.

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused.

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging.

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist.

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along.

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ take me to chapter ten!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

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awrkive · 18 days

Text

THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, pt. 1 — JJK (m.)

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

GENRE r18+ (angst, fluff, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 20k 😍

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, jk sluts it out quite often😞, hopeless romantic!oc, countless mentions of weddings and engagements, angsty undertones, it’s the… yearning? 97liners assemble lmao, the surgeons gang: jk, oc, nayeon, doyeon, taehyung <3, explicit sexual content [dry h*mping, making out, c*nnilingus], alcohol consumption, arguments 🤓, i personally have only acquired a degree on Bingewatching Grey’s Anatomy so my medical knowledge is.. you see.. greys anatomy 💔 BUT! i did a lot of research for this pls dont crucify me 🙏🏼 belated happy birthday jaykay, my forever muse❤️❤️

NOTES hello awrkive nation!!!!!!!!!!!!! sorry this got delayed!! gave up on trying to make this a one shot cos it stretched out into 50k words IM SORRY! anyways check out my trello page for updates on my writing progress 🩷 make sure to comment down ur thoughts and like and reblog to circulate hehe !! asks are deeply appreciated!! scream your takes!! let me know what you think!! also made a spotify playlist for this mini-series soooo if u wanna listen to the songs that i think embody this fic, i've linked it below 🫶🏼

[ TLP MOODBOARD ] // [ SPOTIFY PLAYLIST ]

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

For as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

The girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations and a cute little beach wedding to boot. You’re the kind of girl who thought her high school jock boyfriend would make good on his promise of keeping contact until college. That girl who thought the guy she met at nineteen at some sleazy frat party wanted more than just sex. The girl who thought that her boyfriend at twenty-one would finally be The One after introducing her to his parents on New Year’s Eve. You’re exactly the kind of girl who thought that it was smart to get a boyfriend in her first year of med school and get proposed to in fourth year.

Reality pretty much hit you hard with a big slap on the face; because you soon found out that your love interest doesn’t suddenly come into your life while you clock in your shift at a coffee shop, and there is no such thing as grand love declarations – no one wanted to profess their love to somebody at airports anymore, or even in the pouring rain, for god’d sake! And there is never going to be a beach wedding when there’s no one to do it with in the first place.

Because even if you do everything right, men just always somehow manage to do you wrong.

Your first boyfriend, Changsub, just suddenly ghosted you after you moved to a different town for college. When you saw him again for winter break, he was dating the girl from his History class – the blondie who was always the cause of your heated arguments in the lockers because you’ve always been jealous of her. Needless to say, you never talked to him again, and Changsub never bothered to reach out either.

At nineteen, you met Soohyun at a frat party your roommate invited you to. He was part of your college’s football team – the regular famous jock, and you felt a little bit special when he showed you a little bit of attention. When he chased you for a while, you caved in and had sex for the first time. You soon realized that was his thing – “popping them girls’ cherries” – as what you’ve overheard from his equally asshole teammates when you made an impromptu visit at their sweaty, stinky locker rooms – and that he apparently had a thing for girls in the cheerleading team (you were a part of it for awhile). Soohyun just told you it wasn’t working anymore. He was out and about with another girl three days later.

You swore at twenty-one, you were smarter. Heck, you got your heart broken two times already by then by the same brand of asshole with two different names and faces! You must’ve been a bit wiser, no?

But in your defense, Jaehyun was totally different from Changsub and Soohyun. He wasn’t an athlete. He was low-key… an introvert, and a total nerd. A film major guy who was so good at getting you through his art. He told you you were his muse, and you believed it wholeheartedly for the almost three years you’ve dated, most especially when he brought you to his hometown that one New Year’s Eve and introduced you to his family on your first anniversary.

You don’t exactly know what happened then… he just ran cold. Backed out of your plans of moving in together. Suddenly got so busy with his gigs when he normally would make time. Until the elephant in the room was acknowledged and it was just over before you knew it.

That relationship was your first “I love you”, Jaehyun said it was the same for him.

Fast forward, he gets married two years into the break-up, which is six years ago from the present. He has three kids now, two lovely girl twins and one boy. You didn’t go to the wedding, just sent him a post-it card that said you’re happy for him.

Which is true. He was your first love, but the heartbreak didn’t last long like you thought it would.

Because lastly, there was Eunwoo. The guy you met during the construction of the condominium near the apartment where you were staying at for med school.

Cha Eunwoo was an intern architect around that time, a nice one at that that it didn’t really take long for you guys to hit it off. Too many encounters on the street made you think that maybe it wasn’t just a coincidence anymore that he was there whenever you walked passed by. You really thought it would be difficult for you to love somebody again like how you loved Jaehyun… but Eunwoo made it easy. He did everything right. From the cute encounter, a grand love declaration in your fourth year together wherein he proposed to you in a romantic cruise ship dinner, down to the beach wedding he promised you during that night.

What was supposed to be a three-month engagement lasted longer than you both wanted, though. And it was mostly due to you because you told him you couldn’t marry yet. Not until you pass your licensure exam. Unintentionally, it stretched into a year. Eunwoo blamed it on your internship, said you were too busy that you couldn’t really give him time anymore.

You still remember that argument so vividly inside your head. When you said you told him already that it was life for you in residency. He rebutted with the sentiment that if you wanted to, you would. But you knew it was unfair of him to say that – not when he was also volunteering himself for the mountain of projects at his firm just so he could impress the senior architects there. Eventually, the engagement was called off. You two broke up. You both settled that it was the schedule conflict… you were just both so busy with your careers. Such big ambitions. So much to prove, passionate to a fault.

But two years ago, Eunwoo got married, and his wife is a general physician. The last time you two accidentally bumped into each other at a café downtown, he said he was “so happy and contented” that he felt like “taking a sabbatical to focus on being a husband”.

You guessed then he doesn’t actually mind dating doctors. Doesn’t mind making sacrifices for them. He just minds specifically you.

Your long, tragic dating history should already stop you by now from believing in love altogether. You mean, it just never works out for you, do they? The universe gives you a taste of what it’s like to embark on that journey, but it never takes you to the final destination.

But what can you say… love is just so special to you; romance, falling in love… they hold a significant place in your heart that you can’t help but bet on it every time it comes. You just have so much love to give – but unfortunately no one to give it to, because the men you date always don’t want you in the end of it all.

It bubbles up frustration in you, especially when you see all your exes getting fucking married left and right and them having the audacity to send you an invitation – and even thank you for what you’ve helped made them become. Eunwoo made that lame ass speech in the café. It’s such a subtle physical act of slapping you right on the bone of your cheeks and violently hurts you psychologically.

You’re frustrated that marriage seem to come easy for them, but never for you.

It’s why you unintentionally spat water out of your mouth when one of your co-residents, close friend, Nayeon, announced:

“Minhyuk proposed!”

Naturally, your other friends at the cafeteria attend to your spluttering, with Doyeon patting your back and asking, “Girl, are you okay?”

You shake your head repeatedly at them, tapping your chest to regulate your breathing, putting on a tight smile before turning to Nayeon.

“I’m sorry— what? Minhyuk proposed?” You ask her, and you don’t intend it to sound incredulous.

Nayeon, thank god, doesn’t notice it. And you realize it’s because she’s in a lovesick haze to care about anything else.

“Yep!” She almost squeals. “You guys are all invited to the engagement party next week on Friday.” She giggles when Doyeon pokes her side, lightheartedly teasing her about the wedding.

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” You say, grinning widely, but your jaw hurts from the way you forced it. You look at each one of them; Nayeon, Doyeon, and Taehyung. “You guys are soon gonna be… married.”

Taehyung turns to Doyeon, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Doyeon’s still single, though.”

Doyeon throws a napkin at him. “It’s because your kind are bums. Anyway, Taehyung is also still not married.”

Taehyung pauses. Then, he purses his lips into a thin line, raising his eyebrows, nodding slowly.

“Well… about that…”

“He’s planning to propose to Hyerin!” Nayeon exclaims and quickly covers her mouth when some of the doctors in the cafeteria turned their heads to look in your direction. She shrinks herself small, as if realizing what she’s done, and then her eyes widen when she sees your guys reaction. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, Taehyung!” Nayeon quickly apologizes to him who looks like heaven and earth fell on him. She scrambles to say, “It’s just that I saw the ring in his locker today and so of course I have to ask and you guys met Hyerin, she’s an amazing woman and I’m so excited for her and Taehyung and she are a good couple aaand… I’m shutting my mouth.” She stops, closing an imaginary zipper over her lips when she notices the death glare Taehyung’s sending her way.

He turns to look at the rest of you.

“Well… you heard it from her.”

“Oh my god, Tae! This is insane!” Doyeon tells him. “When are you proposing?”

Taehyung shakes his head and rubs his nape. “I don’t know… she has this, uh, case that she’s confident on winning this Thursday. Maybe I’m going to do it when she gets home that day…” he trails off, and Nayeon coos at him when she sees his ears turning red. Doyeon throws back the napkin Taehyung threw at him, and she receives a juvenile pinch on the arm from Taehyung back.

You laugh along with them.

But deep inside, you’re finding it hard to process all the information that you learned today. You were just letting out words when you said that they were all going to be married, an exaggeration at best, because Nayeon is apparently now a fiancé, Taehyung has been in a long-term relationship with his prosecutor girlfriend that it’s easy to assume their next step is tying it down, and Doyeon is single but you refuse to believe that’s the case. It’s a wild theory that your friends have but you all feel like she has a secret boyrfriend or something.

Apparently, though, you’re not exaggerating at all. Because Taehyung is indeed planning to tie it down.

“It seems like everybody is getting married these days, no?” Doyeon mentions. She looks at you and you feel your heart beating abnormally for some reason. “What about you, __? How did that blind date last week go?”

She’s talking about the guy whom your cousin set you up with a few months back and have only gotten around to meet a week ago, Park Hyungshik.

They all seem to eagerly wait for your answer, and you can only meekly shake your head, sipping on a juice box so your jittering fingers can have something to do.

“It was okay.”

You can see the way their shoulders deflate, and you know you don’t need to explain the details for them to know how bad the date actually went.

“Fuck men.” Doyeon sighs.

“I agree.” Taehyung affirms, followed by Nayeon.

It earns a laugh from you.

“Fuck off, you guys.” You say, rolling your eyes, knowing they’re blindly judging Hyungshik in unconditional support for you. The joke is appreciated though, as it makes you light up and forget about the sudden grey that washes over your insides at the terrifying thought that maybe you’re never going to be married at this rate.

“You’re laughing right now but I’m still scared that you’ll just put up an IG story of you and Jungkook getting married on a random Sunday.” Nayeon suddenly says which elicits quite a violent reaction from you.

“Fucking gross, Nayeon!” You slap her on her arm and she gives you an ingenuine, “Owe!”

Taehyung laughs and adds in another nonsensical input, “That’s where my grandma and grandpa started, by the way. The line between love and hate is thin, after all.”

Your face contorts into a deeper frown every passing second as they continue to tease you.

“Fuck you, Taehyung. I’ll kill you in your sleep and me and Doyeon will hide the body.” You threaten him with your eyes and when he only laughs more, you make quick work of your hands and snatch out his egg omelet, putting it in your mouth fast enough he doesn’t get the chance to take it back.

“Aw, man! Hyerin cooked that for me!” He whines, going back to his seat, defeated after trying to get back the food from you.

But Nayeon is more concerned about another thing.

“Why is it only you and Doyeon? I can help hide Taehyung’s body, too!” She says, face painted with an expression so solemn as if you betrayed her.

“You made the joke first, you don’t get the privilege.” You cross your arms under your chest.

“I’ll commit perjury for you in court. Doyeon can’t do that ‘cos she still hasn’t told us about her secret boyfriend.” She insists.

Taehyung deadpans. “You guys really do love me a lot here, no?”

“We never pretended to love you, Taehyung,” Doyeon taps his arm, giving him a contrasting look of faux sympathy. “And for the nth time, I do not have a secret boyfriend,” She says dryly, sounding exhausted for having to say it again. And then, she turns to you, “Where is that punk, Jungkook, anyway?”

You scowl at her. “Seriously guys, why do you always look for him from me?”

“It’s just that you always know where he is, babe.” Nayeon says as a matter of fact. “No offense.” She says, looking straight into your eyes. When she sees your eyebrow raising higher, she adds quickly, “And malice!” And then she continues some more, “Even though I personally think you’d be cute together and all but we understand perfectly you both just have this sort of weird relationship where you’re platonic roommates and you’re like best friends but you argue all the time for no reason—”

“Oh my god, shut up, Nayeon.” Doyeon cuts her off before she goes on a spiral again.

“See why it’s only me and Doyeon who gets to hide Taehyung’s body when I kill him? You’re gonna tell the police word for word how exactly I did it.” You tell her, and she pouts at you.

“And we’re back to killing me again.” Taehyung comments, sighing, and you stick your tongue out at him in that juvenile manner, only that Taehyung does the same because he’s an even bigger child than you.

“Kids, stop fighting.” Doyeon warns. “Seriously, where is Jungkook?”

“He told me he has a laparoscopic cholecystectomy.” You say.

“Damn.” Comments Taehyung.

Everybody including you nod in understanding.

It’s always been an inside joke in your friend group that Jungkook and you are gonna end up marrying each other because you’ve known each other for a long time, the closest to each other, live together – and you both are also the ones that can’t keep a relationship.

After your breakup with Eunwoo in the middle of your internship which was four years ago, you took a break from dating for a very long time. It’s only two years ago that you picked up going on casual dates, having quick flings, all that sort of stuff. It’s an occasional thing and they never end up as something more.

It’s why you’re still single up until now, and it’s not even that you want to be so – you prefer to be in a happy, loving relationship, thank you very much – but you yearn for a deeper connection with someone, and every date just doesn’t seem to click. And even though you find a little ugly bitterness when somebody brings up marriage, you would never, ever want to settle down with somebody just ‘cause you feel like you have to.

Meanwhile, Jungkook is a special case. He’s single because he wants to be. He’s single because according to him, the bachelor life has “chosen” him and he can’t do anything about it.

It’s why he goes to this myriads of dates… with those… women. Sleeps around. Never attempted a serious relationship as far as you’ve known him except that one time in your last year of med school when he exclusively dated Min Sora for about a year.

You don’t judge him for the kind of life he lives. He’s just an admittedly good-looking, liberated guy who hooks up with good-looking women who are looking for the same fun as him. When you asked him if they ever do fall, he told you that they always agree prior sex that it’s just going be a one-time thing (two or three or four times if they particularly like each other… or whatever the hell he said).

Despite that, Jungkook is – and always has been your best friend. You met each other in med school and were in the same study group together with Doyeon and Taehyung.

As much as heartbreak is a constant in your life, Jungkook is a frontrunner in it as well because from being in almost all the same classes during med school for four years, you both decided to live in the same apartment unit together.

It has two different bedrooms, of course. The apartment’s a big unit he and Taehyung owned three years ago until Taehyung moved in with his girlfriend. Jungkook couldn’t pay for it all by himself, and the only logical roommate choice was you because when he proposed it to Doyeon, she just looked at him disgusted beyond belief.

You’ve been with each other for so long it’s quite impossible to not know the other like the back of their hand. You’ve seen him during his worst in med school days up until the years of your residency as does him you. You both shared the highs and lows of life with the other’s presence, and as much as you both quite differ in the way you approach certain things in life – he’s ultimately your person, the one-call-away friend (or the one-knock-to-the-door-friend), and the guy you can always lean on when things are just particularly hard to bear.

Jungkook may not be the most ideal when it comes to romance, but he’s the guy you’d certainly wish was your friend.

Why you don’t understand when the rest of your friends tease you both is because you’re so… platonic with each other. Sure, you’re closest – you knew each other first – but you and Jungkook never acted borderline sweet for other people to be making assumptions. You aren’t the kind of friends who call each other siblings but then get weirdly clingy towards each other behind everyone’s backs.

You may have had a tiny bit of crush on him when you first saw him during first year of med school – it’s a common fact that he’s handsome and whatever, okay – but he had never shown interest; from post grad all throughout the years of your shared residency. You never, either.

But maybe it’s the teasing, since you always fight like goddamn children whenever you’re near each other. There’s nothing romantic about it, though, you don’t think so. In your defense, that’s how your dynamic works! That’s how your friendship with everybody works! If you didn’t banter with a person, you probably hate them.

Shaking the thoughts of Jungkook in your head, you continue to eat your lunch, asking questions about Nayeon’s further plans, squeezing your break with the rest of your friends, knowing your pager is going to beep anytime soon.

What Doyeon said, though, everybody does seem to be getting married these days. If you could sigh, you would, but you have to do with a little bit of internal mulling for now lest one of the gang notices and you get interrogated for it. You don’t want to get aired out for feeling suddenly weird at the tough realization that again, everybody seems to be getting married and proposed to except… you.

You’re happy for them – you really are! You’d be such a shit friend if you weren’t. But there’s a pang in your chest and you know exactly where it’s coming from.

There was an added case to the OR schedule when you checked it earlier this morning, and you were assigned to it as per instruction from the chief of your team – a melanoma excision.

After your lunch, you went to scrub in for the surgery and it was what made you busy including the paper works needed to be done, so busy that you thought you’d forgotten the pain from a while ago.

Turns out, it sat at some bench at the far end of your heart, hiding and shrinking itself for a little while, only showing up when it’s time for you to clock out; in the quiet of the locker room, alone while you change out of your scrubs.

You let out a heavy sigh and lean your forehead to your locker door, closing your eyes and getting your breathing even.

You’re just tired from work. You tell yourself. You had two surgeries today; it would be true. But you know it’s not entirely that. It’s the reminder of your loneliness when you see an envelope peeking out from your locker.

You take out the invitation card for Nayeon’s engagement party she’s given you this afternoon. It’s a thick off-white material that has her and her fiancé’s name printed on gold beveled font. So intricate to the touch; you deduce once you run your fingers over it.

“Yo, what are you up to?”

You quickly stand up straight and hide the envelope behind your back, your other hand going right above your chest when you turn around only to see Jeon Jungkook approaching the inside of the room.

“Jesus christ, learn to knock.” You say, genuinely surprised and taken aback. Jungkook cocks a brow at you.

“Feisty.” He muses, and the way his eyes fall to your chest makes you realize you’re still in your bra having not put yourself into a clean and fresh top yet since you decided to have a sentimental moment in your locker door like some high school girl.

“Asshole.” You mutter under your breath, making quick work of putting on a shirt.

Only when you’re done wearing it do you see Jungkook stripping out of his own scrubs until he’s left with only his boxers across from you.

“Some decorum, please?” You tell him, turning around to sit on a bench to change out of your sneakers and wearing a more comfortable pair of sandals.

You hear Jungkook laugh behind you.

“What can I say? I’m a bit of an exhibitionist, you see.” You take a quick look at him so he can see how far your eyes roll to the back of your head. Jungkook ignores that, wearing his shirt while he says, “You’re out the same time tonight?”

You take out your ponytail and comb your hair through your fingers to fix it.

“Yeah. You?”

Jungkook smirks and suddenly there’s something flying at your direction. You’re quick on your reflex and manage to catch it on time, only to realize it’s his keys.

“You’re driving.”

It earns an instant groan from you.

Jungkook puts on another pair of shoes while laughing. “What? I drove us here this morning.”

You’re about to give him an attitude but then you realize making him pity you may be more effective. Stepping closer to him, you sit on the bench where he placed his foot to tie his shoes on. You look up at him and try your puppy face on.

“But I had two surgeries today, Kook.”

Jungkook stares at you, his expression unreadable. A few seconds pass by, with you blink up at him, and you think he’s gonna cave.

Instead of getting swayed by your poor attempt to get his sympathy, he takes down his leg and says with a sarcastic smile on his face, “I did a major one. Yours were both minor.”

Your shoulders deflate, making sure to jab at his thigh that was at eye level and snark, “And two is more than one. Fuck off, Jeon.”

Jungkook follows behind you while his boisterous ass is laughing.

“Don’t get pissed at me, are you kidding? It’s your turn to drive. Favor for a favor.”

You turn back to him, and because you were walking in a faster pace, he crashes to your back. He grips your shoulder, pursing his lips into a thin line, obviously holding in another fit of laughter.

“You’re gonna drive us tomorrow here, do you understand?” You say, giving him an ominous glare.

Jungkook raises his hands up. “Okay, okay.” He nods his head, and to piss you off more, he adds, “Bossy.”

That earns him a pinch to the side which he quickly dodges. Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and continue to head towards the exit.

You both enter his car soon after.

“I miss my car…” you longingly say, turning on the ignition to start driving.

“It’s still in the shop?” Jungkook asks while rummaging around his compartment glove to look for a snack. He always has a few in it. It’s convenient.

“Yeah, the mechanic told me it’s gonna take a few more weeks. So,” you look at him bitterly.

“That’s tough.” Jungkook comments, opening a granola bar and biting on it. He extends his hand to you. “You want some?”

You stretch your neck to the side, eyes still on the road while taking a bite off his food.

“Tough because you can’t bring your girls here anymore?” You joke a little. Jungkook gives you a dirty look. Your eyes widen a little, realizing what you just said. “Please say you don’t fuck in your car. I’ve touched your passenger seat and your backseat.”

“Give me more credit, yeah? I don’t fuck in my car, that shit is unhygienic as hell,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, and you heave a sigh of relief upon his confirmation. “I wine and dine my women before we do the deed, thank you very much.”

“You’re just so sweet, aren’t you?” You say with a straight face.

Jungkook sing-songs. “Just like how they like it.”

“You’re really beating them off with a stick these past few years, huh?”

“A gorgeous stick, might I add.”

That earns a disgusted groan from you, which he laughs at, and you drop the subject before it even goes to another place.

There’s a comfortable silence that sits on the air for a while until Jungkook speaks.

“Hey, what was that earlier?”

“Hm?”

“In the locker room.” He says.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. Clearing your throat, you answer, “Oh, it’s just, uh… Nayeon’s getting married. Do you know that?”

“Yeah.”

You turn to him in surprise. “Wait, how? You didn’t eat lunch with us.”

Jungkook snorts. “I saw the invitation cards in her locker yesterday, she thought she was being discreet. She threatened me to keep it a secret when I asked her about it, though. I guess she told you guys today at lunch?”

“Oh my god, you really need to stop snooping in everybody’s locker.”

“I do not snoop in in everybody’s locker.”

You give him a certain look. Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”

Letting out a heavy breath, you look straight ahead as you say, “I don’t know. I wasn’t doing anything…”

“Just getting a little sentimental in the locker room?”

“A bit.” You purse your lips. “But it’s not a big deal.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything to that. From your peripheral vision, you can see him staring at you but you choose to ignore that, focusing on driving instead.

“If you say so.” He says after a while.

You’re thankful for the dismissal. Jungkook’s usually insistent that you tell him everything – he’s just nosy like that – but deep down you know it’s because he cares. And if you’re in any trouble, he’s always willing to be there for you may it be listening to you vent or eat unholy amount of Chinese take out in the middle of the night.

As you went on the road, he played a few of his playlists and they served as background noise as you both talked about your day, like how your surgeries went. It’s a usual drive when you’re both in the same car together – which you’ve done quite a few times now because after all, you work in the same building and gas is expensive. It’s the most logical way to save up in this economy.

These past few weeks, though, it just so happened that your car got a little bitchy and started to act up so you made a bargain with Jungkook.

Anyway, you both arrive at your apartment shortly, with Jungkook and you taking turns in the shower.

“You wanna order in something?” Says Jungkook who’s currently drying his hair, a towel wrapped around his lower half.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he’s some kind of exhibitionist. Jungkook has the habit of walking around the apartment shirtless and sometimes with just even his boxers on, and it’s not like you aren’t used to seeing it! You admittedly see a lot of it when you guys would change in the locker rooms back at the hospital, but that is work, and you have more things to worry about at work other than your co-worker changing in front of you.

Still, it’s hard to get used to his exhibitionist tendencies. You had a hard time with it especially in the first few months of living together, but you had to adapt, and right now, even though you can say you’re partly immune to it, his naked upper half still bothers you. A little.

Listen, you’re a human being with primal instincts and men who have good bodies do, in fact, distract you a tiny bit.

“Nope.” You take a sip of the glass of water, closing the refrigerator with your foot, looking at Jungkook who groans at your answer. “What?”

“I was hoping we could split the delivery fee.” He deadpans.

“Wow. And they say chivalry is dead.”

Jungkook laughs while you head towards your room. He follows you until you reach your door so you turn to him, putting your hand on your hip as you ask, “What?”

“Don’t think too much about it.”

Your furrow your brows. “How do you mean?”

“The wedding,” Jungkook says with a soft smile. “And weddings, in general. I know you’re thinking about a few things up in that smart brain of yours. Don’t.”

You’re completely taken aback by his words, but at the same time, you’re not at all that surprised. Jungkook can read you almost like an open book.

Still, you decide to lie.

“I’m not thinking about weddings, weirdo.”

“Liar,” Jungkook’s brow arches, and you know he’s figured out your shit. “Your nostrils flared up. You’re lying.”

You groan, giving him a light jab at his bicep. Jungkook chuckles.

“My nostrils do not flare up.”

“It does so,” Jungkook points out. “Like this.” He stands there on your door and start to purposefully enlarge his nostrils to imitate you.

You roll your eyes. “My face is not like that when I lie. Go back to your room,” you say, pushing him slightly out of your doorway, ready to close it in front of his face, but you add more, “And don’t bother me.”

Jungkook stands up straight and gives you a salute. “Yes, ma’am.” he says in a register octave lower, walking away with laughter as you tell him he’s annoying. You roll your eyes once again before finally closing your bedroom door.

A lot of people may judge your love for romance as naivety, but you really couldn’t care less. Even if you get heart broken countless times, love will never fail to make your heart soft and make you feel like you’re floating.

It’s exactly what you think as you look at Nayeon and her fiance, Minhyuk, on the stage huddled so close together, laughing and giggling to each other. They look so incredibly happy. So connected. So sweet. It brings a feeling of warmth to your heart – to see one of the most important people in your life finally meeting the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with. It makes you melt on the inside to see two people so deeply in love that it emanates in the whole venue of the garden their engagement party is being held at today.

The weather is sunny – not too hot, like the universe knows not to fuck it up for Nayeon and her fiance. There’s also a lot of people; their families, some of Nayeon’s friends and probably Minhyuk’s – people you’ve never seen before. You assume it’s Minhyuk’s friends or acquaintances. The guest list for their wedding must be big, but it isn’t surprising, given that Minhyuk comes from the big corporate world.

“You want more champagne?” Jungkook whispers beside you, ready to stand up from his seat.

You stare at him, and you notice his eyes are not even on yours. He has it glued towards a woman across from you. A pretty woman wearing a satin dress that shows off her slender figure. You notice Jungkook’s been looking at her since the beginning of the party.

Shaking your head, you scoff. “You’re just gonna pick up some woman.”

Jungkook sputters and quickly take his gaze off the woman. “No, I’m not. I just think she’s familiar.”

You raise your brow. “Let me guess… one of your hook-ups?”

Jungkook huffs. And then off he goes.

Everybody has their plus-ones except you two, and now that Jungkook is probably off his mission to find a hook-up for the night, you’re left alone as usual.

You don’t feel bad about it. The champagne is good and there’s hors d'oeuvre on the table.

“Miss?”

You look up, finding the owner of the voice.

And holy hell.

“Hi.” You greet reluctantly, not sure if he meant you. You’re also trying to contain a blush from spreading across your cheeks because goddamn, was the man beautiful.

He smiles. Wow. Whoever this is… he looks pretty damn good.

“Is this seat taken?” The stranger says, pointing to the now empty seat beside you. You look around but can’t really spot Jungkook.

So, you shake your head, gesturing to the chair beside you. “No, not really. You want to sit here?”

He nods. “Alone?”

“No, not really… but I’m Nayeon’s friend. I’m her co-resident at the hospital.” You smile, taking a sip of your champagne that’s already about to run out. “Are you one of Minhyuk’s friends?”

“You guessed right. Law school friends. Worked at the same firm when he was a practicing lawyer until he quit some time ago,” You nod at that, and he gives you a boyish smile again. He offers his hand for a handshake. “I’m Mingyu, by the way. Kim Mingyu.”

You take his hand.

“I’m ___.” You both laugh when you shake your hands together.

His hands feel rough but at the same time warm. It’s nice.

“You’re a doctor?” Mingyu asks, keeping up the conversation.

“Yeah. A resident surgeon.” You glance at him. “I’m assuming you’re a lawyer?”

Mingyu nods. “Yeah. Corporate.”

“I see.” You nod, looking in front of you again, trying to stray from any eye contact. He’s way too attractive for your own liking.

“Say… I hate to make this about work but I just need to ask real quick,” Mingyu says, and when you look at him, you furrow your brows at the worry in his eyes, suddenly growing nervous at the depth of seriousness it’s showing. “So, I got here, and I suddenly have this sort of… feeling of heart palpitation. Increased heart rate. It’s like it’s missing a beat and it’s been making me real nervous.”

“Oh,” you look at him in concern. “That’s— did you drink uh… coffee?” He shakes his head. You place your champagne glass on the table and turn your body to him so you can face him properly. You don’t know if it’s just the doctor in you, but you forget about pretty much everything when you see or hear someone feeling under normal. “Are you a smoker, then?” You continue your line of questioning.

“I quit years ago.”

“I see… okay, uhm…” You look around, trying to look for something. “There’s a lot of roots for heart palpitations. Does your heart feel like pounding right now? Flip-flopping or something like that?”

Mingyu nods.

“Okay… well I can’t say for sure – I wish I have stethoscope with me right now. But I’m gonna lay out all the possible reasons why you might be feeling so. Smoking’s out of the question. You didn’t drink coffee, but do you drink more than one cup in a day?”

“Not in the past few weeks, no.”

“So, you’re not overcaffeinated, then. I really don’t want to lay this out on you, but you might want to check in with your doctor if this is not your first time feeling this. Heart palpitations is normal most of the time but I’ve seen lots of people get in these situations and it ends up being arrhythmia, which is a really serious condition.” You look at him straight in the eyes.

Mingyu looks stricken back. “Well… are there any more reasons out there that’s not… as dangerous?”

You still in your position.

Oh, right. There is more.

“Are you feeling certain emotions right now? Like, really, strong emotion?” You say, internally face-palming yourself because how can you not remember one of the very basic roots of palpitation!

“Yes, I am.”

“Well… certain emotions do trigger your heartbeat to accelerate. It might be anxiety… fear, panic, stress…” You look at Mingyu, noticing that his once serious face is now forming a smile. That makes you back-track, but you hesitantly continue. “... infatuation.”

And then he says, “I think you’re right off the bat with that one.”

Your lips part slightly. A few seconds passed and then suddenly, what he’s doing registers in your head, and you can’t help but to let out a laugh.

“Oh my god,” You say in disbelief. “You weren’t– you weren’t actually asking for medical advice?”

“Bad way to flirt with a pretty woman, huh?” Mingyu smiles and it’s so dashing that you shy away from his gaze, but you’re still laughing at the turn of events.

“God, no. I can’t believe I didn’t get it earlier.” You say, gingerly placing a palm on your forehead at the embarrassment.

But Mingyu just laughs along with you.

“It was just bad flirting. I’m sorry,” He says, sipping from his glass and takes a glance at you. “I can do better.”

You arch your brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. If you let me. Say, Friday, ten o’clock?”

You chuckle. “That was really smooth.”

Mingyu was about to say something when suddenly, you hear a familiar voice approaching your direction.

“Mingyu?” When you look up, you see Jungkook. You eye him in confusion, wondering how the hell he knew Mingyu’s name.

But then Mingyu speaks and you grow even more confused.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

“Oh hey, it’s you,” Jungkook says, and he looks genuinely surprised. Mingyu stands up from his seat to give Jungkook a hug, slapping him on the back – kind of like how guys usually greet each other. You watch as Jungkook reluctantly reciprocates it.

“You work with Nayeon?” Mingyu asks, and even with a smile on his face, you can see he’s also in disbelief to be seeing Jungkook.

Jungkook nods at him, still looking a bit stricken. You can’t figure out if it’s just his surprised face or something else. You’ve never seen him look so… stunned like this before. Nevertheless, he says, “Yeah. How ‘bout you?”

“Been with Lee and Song for the past three years, Minhyuk’s previous firm before he quit and went out to the business world.” Mingyu chuckles, tapping Jungkook’s back.

Jungkook smiles. “That’s crazy, man. I can’t believe we’ll meet here again.”

Mingyu, seemingly sharing the same sentiment, says, “Man, it’s been, like, what– almost ten years?”

“Yeah, yeah, too long, man.” Jungkook nods, chuckling slightly.

You hate to interrupt, but you’re confused, and you need to confirm something.

“Wait,” You butt in, making them both look at you. “You know each other?”

Jungkook sits across from you while Mingyu follows.

“We did pre-med together during undergrad.” Mingyu says.

“You did pre-med in undergrad?” You look at Mingyu incredulously, and he nods with a bashful smile on his face. You squint your eyes at him, feeling slightly betrayed that he asked you all that stuff earlier when the whole while he has a pre-med degree.

Jungkook cuts in.

“How the hell do you two know each other?” He said, leaning back and pointing between you two. It seems like he’s finally out of the trance he was in earlier.

“I just met him today.” You tell Jungkook, blinking your eyes at him.

“Well, how about you two? How do you know each other?” Mingyu asks and the whole thing suddenly feels like watching a game of tennis somehow.

You’re about to answer when Jungkook beats you to it.

“We’re co-workers. Together with Nayeon.”

Mingyu nods his head and then turns to you, “So not his girlfriend, then?”

“What? No!” you didn’t mean for it to come out that violently, so you repeat it in a gentler manner this time. “I mean no. What?”

Mingyu turns to Jungkook who’s now looking confused.

“I was just asking her out for a date.”

You suddenly feel blood rushing to your cheeks at his straightforwardness. In front of Jungkook, out of all people! You aren’t embarrassed! You just feel weird and shy.

But Jungkook looks at you as if silently asking you if Mingyu’s being serious. You tuck your bottom lip under your teeth.

Then he nods his head slowly. “Really?” Jungkook chuckles, looking at you. “What’d you say?”

Mingyu looks at you with a hopeful smile. “What do you say?”

You feel weird about doing the whole thing in front of someone, but you look at Mingyu again – how attractive he is, his charming smile, his physique, and his charisma… and you don’t think it’d be too bad to chance at least one date with him.

So, you nod, avoiding Jungkook’s sudden way too intense gaze.

“I would like to,” But he cocks his head to the side. You chuckle, adding, “Yes, Mingyu. I’d like to go out with you.”

“Woah!”

“Jungkook, please knock!”

You look at Jungkook irritably while you lock your stud earring, standing up from your chair in front of the vanity table to pick up your purse from the edge of your bed.

“I was just going to borrow your hair dryer.” Jungkook says, trudging inside your room freely which makes you roll your eyes at him.

You watch as he expertly makes his way to your vanity table and slides one of the drawers, taking out the hair dryer.

“You need to buy your own one.” You say with a straight face.

But Jungkook just stands there for a while, and when his stare goes on longer than necessary, you start feeling conscious.

“What.”

“What are you so… dolled up for?”

You jab him on the chest when you get near him, enough to make him wince. “What an asshole way to say I look good.”

Jungkook laughs. Your heart drops.

Most of the time, you understand that your dynamic consists of teasing and bantering with each other until one of you gets pissed off. That’s usually you. But they never go too far – you’ve built a foundation of respect in your relationship which you love. However, sometimes, there are moments when you’re under a certain kind of pressure – like right now in which you only have twenty minutes before Mingyu arrives to pick you up outside of your building complex and you still haven’t done your hair – and Jungkook laughing while looking at you is not helping.

The faux confidence falls as fast as that.

“Okay, Jungkook, can you just tell me nicely if this dress looks ridiculous or if I put too much make-up on?” You say, failing not to sound defensive.

Jungkook’s quick to halt his laughter, and he looks taken aback at your clipped tone.

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“You were laughing at me.” You point out, turning around to rummage through your make-up products scattered on the top surface of the furniture, thinking that maybe you overblushed. So, you look at yourself in the mirror.

Jungkook situates himself on your vanity table so you’ll look at him.

“Wha— you thought I was laughing at you?” You don’t answer, checking if your cheeks are way too pink, purposefully ignoring him. “Okay, that’s– I wasn’t. I’m sorry if you thought I was. I laughed at your words, not the way you look.”

You let out a sharp breath, look at him angrily, ready to present more argument, but you see the look of sincerity on his face and you realize then that you’re being borderline sensitive.

You sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Jungkook places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You pout at him. “It’s just… first date jitters. I feel slightly anxious, I don’t know,” You sigh again, “I bought this dress two days ago.” You say, looking down at it. It has a tube top with thin straps, fitting your upper half like a glove but flows prettily to the bottom, stopping just about four inches above your knee.

“It looks good on you.” Jungkook comments, and you quint your eyes at him.

“You swear?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Why would I lie?”

“To make me feel better, I don’t know,” Then you can’t help but chuckle. “Anyway, does my make-up look okay? I didn’t put too much blush?”

“You have lipstick on your teeth,” Jungkook says, baring his own to emphasize what he meant.

“Shit.” You panic, quickly ducking down to check it in the mirror.

You soon realize Jungkook was fucking with you when you hear him laughing beside you.

“I hate you.” You hiss, pushing his thighs so he can get off your vanity table. He remains on his seat, fighting your force while laughing. “Ugh, don’t you have a date of your own or something?” You groan as you take the hair straightener on the side, sitting back down again on the chair to straighten a certain part of your hair again so it’s looks nothing but perfect.

“Ohh, so you are going on a date.” Jungkook says as if he wasn’t there in front of you when Mingyu asked you out.

You give him a weird look. “With Mingyu, remember?”

“Oh, right.” He’s quiet for awhile, and then, “You’re really dating him?”

You put down the hair straightener.

“Yeah… why?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Nothing.”

But you want to insist. “He’s your friend. You told me he’s a nice guy.”

He nods his head. “That’s true.”

You eye him suspiciously. “You’re making me nervous.”

Jungkook chuckles and pats your head. You scowl at him and slap his wrist.

“You’re like a cat,” Jungkook comments. “Anyway, I told you, it’s nothing. It’s just…” He trails off. You look at him, waiting for his continuation.

You don’t expect the genuine smile he sends your way.

“I wish it works out for you this time.”

Lips parted, you think about what to say to that, but nothing comes out of your mouth.

Jungkook gets off the table and brings with him your blow dryer. Before he heads out completely, he tells you, “And don’t worry about how you look. Mingyu likes pretty women. You’re exactly his type.”

“Really, mini-golf?” You ask Mingyu, but he already has his fingers intertwined with you as you both enter the course.

You’ve just had dinner at some fancy restaurant that served, admittedly, good steak. He told you it was some sort of special place for him; where he takes himself to whenever he closes a deal or wins a case. You tried not to think too much about what it meant that he brought you there – given that you’re only on your first date.

But hey, maybe he thought you deserve to eat good steak? That’s probably what it was.

You don’t ask.

You thought the night was over when you finished your meal and good two glasses of Malbec, but Mingyu commented in his car that he’d love to burn off the food for a moment – and you didn’t really want to leave just yet.

So, you end up at Pier 26, and Mingyu’s enthusiastic.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He says, and you have no choice but to follow behind him.

“I really don’t know how.” You tell him, smile bashful as you watch him carry the golf club, walking towards the direction of the ball.

“What’s up with that? I’ll teach you,” Mingyu says, putting down the club and unbuttoning his cuff to push his sleeves up to his forearms.

You try not to focus too much on the veins that show up at the action and how his biceps are almost fighting to pop out of his sleeves. His hands look so big compared to yours when he offers it to get you to stand beside him.

“Really? You’re gonna teach me like a big… macho man?” You tease, taking his hand nonetheless.

Mingyu smiles once you’re beside him, placing himself behind you, guiding your hands so you can hold the club together.

You can feel his breath on your neck as he instructs you what to do. “You just have to stand like this,” He lets go of your hands in favour of your hips, and your breath hitches when he whispers, “Look ahead, and you just… let go.”

The golf ball jumps out of the line and you giggle at the way it completely misses the hole.

“That was… wow.” Mingyu says, staring at the ball.

“Shut up! Okay, okay, I’ll try it alone.” You say, dismissing his incredulous look, a bit embarrassed at your performance.

From your periphery, you see Mingyu closely watching you as you grip the golf club a little less tight this time so it’s not too tense when you hit the ball. Squinting your eyes, you eye the goal and let out a controlled breath. You relax your posture just like he taught you and when you finally hit the ball, it lands right in the hole perfectly.

You turn to look at Mingyu immediately with widened eyes, and when he gives you a huge grin, you do a little jump out of excitement.

“Oh my god, I did that!”

Mingyu chuckles at your enthusiasm. And due to the high of hitting the goal once, you agree to another round until it turns into a session.

You only stopped when you got tired. Nonetheless, you realize it’s actually something you’re good at, and that geeks you inside. Meanwhile, Mingyu suggested you walk around the park for a little while.

Mingyu told you he was just going to buy some food at a stall, but as you sit on the bench to wait for him, you think about how you’d like to go with Jungkook here some time to challenge him to mini-golf. You almost always never beat him to any games… surely, he must not know mini-golf, right? You can finally have the upper hand, if ever.

“Ice cream?” Mingyu returns from the stall and extends the cone to you. You try not to show your wince. You’re lactose intolerant.

“Thanks.” You say, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. It’s not that bad, and you want this date to be perfect. Mingyu joins you on the bench.

The night’s cold and you regret not bringing your blazer with you and leaving it in his car instead.

“You know,” you start to strike up a conversation. “I’m still pretty shocked you studied pre-med.”

Mingyu chuckles. “Why?”

“I don’t know… but in hindsight, I should’ve known the moment you asked me about “heart palpitations”.” You say, quoting the last two words, trying to tease him.

“I really thought that was a good idea, huh?”

You snort. “It was–” you gesture with your hand, pursing your lips. “Pretty lame, yeah. But admittedly… it was cute. So, there.”

Mingyu laughs. “Thanks. I also thought that was a brilliant way to flirt with a doctor.”

You shake your head, laughing at him.

Silence sits in the air for a while until he speaks.

“You know what they say? Study law when you don’t know what to do after getting a degree, so law it was.” Mingyu shrugs.

“You didn’t see yourself as a doctor then?” You ask curiously.

“Not really. Didn’t really think too much about it when I chose a pre-med program as my major. Soon realized it wasn’t for me. I was lost in law school too for a good couple of years, though. But I love it now,” Mingyu looks at you who’s intently listening. “You? You always wanted to be a doctor?”

You look ahead, nodding. “For as long as I can remember.”

“Just like Jungkook, huh?” Mingyu chuckles. “He really wanted it a lot. I remember him excelling during those moving tests. He had a lot of people getting jealous over him for balancing his school and basketball lives so well, you know?”

You furrow your brows. “He did basketball?”

“Yeah. We were in the varsity team together.”

“Hah.” You smile. Jungkook. A jock. “That makes sense.”

“That I’m a jock?” Mingyu asks with a teasing smile on his face.

You didn’t mean him, but regardless, you nod, finding that it also applies to him. “You look like someone who plays basketball.”

“And what’s the diagnosis of that, doctor?” Mingyu leans closer.

You nibble on your bottom lip.

“Let’s say you have a… chronic jock face.” You say, not backing down from Mingyu’s sudden challenge of eye contact.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Is that a good thing?”

You chuckle. “It just means that you are conventionally attractive.”

“Ah,” he nods, but you notice his hand making its way around your waist. You don’t make a move to protest it. “Then, can a conventionally attractive guy like me chance a kiss with a pretty girl like you?”

Your breath hitch when he leans his face closer. One more inch and his lips will lock against yours.

“Yeah.”

Mingyu doesn’t waste a second longer and leans in to plant his lips on yours. It’s nothing short of a peck when he breaks away from the contact, but when you look up at him with parted lips, he goes back to kissing you again, cupping your cheek and angling your face towards him better, this time taking you closer by your waist.

It starts off as something experimental, like he’s testing the waters first. But when you take out your tongue to prod the side of his mouth, he does the same and inserts his tongue in yours.

You did not really think that you’d end up making out of some bench at a park, but here you are.

“Oh,” you unintentionally let out a low moan, and you hear a guttural sound coming out from his throat. Your hands come up to fist his collar as some sort of support, and Mingyu responds with a slight pinch to your hip.

You break away from the kiss to regain your breathing, and Mingyu takes that as an opportunity to plant kisses across your cheek down to your jaw. Sighing at the sensation, you close your eyes as you let yourself get drowned in the feeling of his soft lips against your skin.

But when you open your eyes, you see people walking by at a short distance and that’s when you wake up from your trance.

“Mingyu,” You call him, but he’s too busy kissing your neck. “Hey, I think we shouldn’t do this here.”

Mingyu stops. Then, he looks at you, eyes hooded, hair a mess, his lips swollen, some of your lipstick getting on it.

Your blood flows to your cheek at the sight. He looks unbelievably hot. God, what more if he was under you and you were doing more than just kissing and– no, no. Not going there. Absolutely no thoughts of … there.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Mingyu says after seemingly snapping himself out of the trance as well. “Shit. I really am.”

He looks so apologetic, so you put your hand over his arm.

“It’s fine. Just uh… let’s take it slow?” You tell him.

Mingyu gives you a small smile.

“Slow. Yeah. Let’s do it slow.”

What's the definition of slow, anyway?

The tension at the park was too much and you made out some more in his car with heavy petting that may have included Mingyu copping a feel of your boob and you coyishly feeling out the bulge in his pants.

Safe to say, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

You started coming over to his place, but you still haven’t had sex. Not yet at least. You haven’t even taken off your clothes in front of each other yet. Suddenly, you remember being eighteen and just making out with your boyfriend – the territory of any form of sex prohibited for some reason. Somehow, you two have never gotten around that for the past few weeks you’ve hung out. It may be because you always stop it before it happens, but it’s not because you don’t want to; just that it feels like you’re going to a place you won’t know how to go back to.

So, it’s mostly date nights, a sneaky coffee hung during the afternoon when you’re not particularly busy and your schedule aligns, and making out in his car until your pager beeps or when his phone rings.

And as good as Mingyu may be with his lips when he locks them with yours, he’s more than what you thought he was.

You have to admit that you had doubts when you first met him. You don’t trust a lot of good-looking men, because they always end up being assholes. He also has the face of a guy who – in a cliche fashion – likes to break women’s hearts on a regular basis. You went to the first date a little hopeful of something real, but you knew your luck with romance isn’t the best – may be the worst you’ve ever known – but recently, you’re starting to think that maybe the poison’s wearing out and Mingyu may just be… decent.

Decent enough to be a boyfriend. Your boyfriend.

And it feels so weird to think so. You’ve been single for so long, and sure, you went to a lot of dates during the past two years but Mingyu’s going on two months, and everything just seems so… right. Like this can be it.

You hate having wishful thinking. You hate getting your hopes high. But god, he makes it so hard.

“You going with us later?” Nayeon asks, stretching her neck while looking at you.

You’re all currently at some abandoned ward at the hospital where you take quick breaks from your shift to eat or talk for a while.

“Where to?” You ask, taking a bite off Taehyung’s egg sandwich which he gave you earlier.

“We’re going out for barbecue tonight. Jungkook didn’t tell you?” Doyeon says, coming back from her quick trip to the vending machine.

You look at them confused. “No, he didn’t tell me about… barbecue or going out.”

As if on cue, Jungkook arrives in the scene.

“She’s not coming with us,” Jungkook says, and you look at him with visible offense on your expression. “She’s going out with her boyfriend tonight.”

The room quickly becomes rowdy at the declaration, and you flip Taehyung off when you hear him let out a lighthearted “boo”.

“Oh my god,” Nayeon squeals. “Mingyu’s your boyfriend now?” She asks, going over to the bed you’re sitting on, huddling closer to you ready to hear some gossip.

Doyeon looks surprised as well.

You look at Jungkook to give him a death glare. The fucker just puts his hands up in the air.

“No, god– why would you believe him?” You huff out, rolling your eyes. “Mingyu’s not my boyfriend.” Nayeon’s shoulders deflate. “Yet.” You add, and suddenly, she smiles. You take a glance at Doyeon who looks at Jungkook subtly. Or not so subtly, since you saw her. She didn’t seem to notice.

But Jungkook just wears a smug expression as he approaches you closer.

“See?” He shrugs, plopping himself on the same bed beside you. He looks at everybody. “She barely goes home nowadays.”

“Shut up, Jungkook!” You say, continuously hitting him on the arm as he makes little effort to dodge them.

But as usual, your friends love to bully you and join in the teasing.

“So, you joining or what?” Taehyung says after a while.

You actually had plans with Mingyu tonight. Just the usual dinner at his place and some movie and some fooling around, but you remember Jungkook’s teasing and felt the competitive need for him to not be right.

Besides, you don’t want to be the kind of friend who suddenly ditches their friends just because they’re starting to date – and you know that beneath their good-natured chaff is a genuine feeling of sulk because you’ve been admittedly bailing out on all your hangs lately.

It isn’t even that much because you don’t get to hang outside the hospital often – but you usually do go out on Fridays or Saturdays for some barbecue and go to a KTV bar afterwards. It’s sort of like became a tradition at this point, and it dawns on you that you haven’t been present in them for the past few weeks, which makes you feel bad.

“I’m coming with.”

Jungkook immediately eyes you with an arched brow. “For real?”

You challenge him with a look. “Yes, why?”

“I just remember you mentioning you’re going to Mingyu’s tonight.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “I’m just gonna tell him I’m hanging out with you all. No big deal.” You say, believing what you said. Mingyu’s come accustomed to your group of friends and you’re both adults who live separate lives. As far as you know him, he wouldn’t be making a big deal out of you cancelling on a plan. You think he’ll understand. You hope he does.

“Oh my god, don’t!” Nayeon cuts in. “Don’t worry about us. Go date your hot lawyer boyfriend right now. Are you insane?”

You look at her incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

Doyeon looks at you, nodding her head. “Nayeon’s right. If it’s between a date with my boyfriend or having barbecue with Taehyung and Jungkook, I’d rather be with my boyfriend,” She looks at the two guys. “No offense.”

“As if I don’t want to be with my girlfriend either tonight?” Taehyung says in disbelief.

Doyeon rolls her eyes, but she lets out a low chuckle.

“Wait– why are we fighting right now? If __ wants to cancel her date with Mingyu to come with us for barbecue night, then let her be.” Jungkook says.

In the corner, Taehyung crosses his arms and sends a certain look Jungkook’s way.

“Don’t get too excited, Jungkook.”

Jungkook and you pretty much have the same exact reaction at that.

“What the hell does that mean?”

You feel a slight pinch to your arm.

“Aw!” You slap Jungkook’s bicep for what he did. “What the hell!”

“I said it first.”

“You’re a child.” You roll your eyes.

Taehyung raises his hand. “I think you’re both twelve-year-olds trapped in thirty-year-old surgeons’ bodies.”

“Twelve’s too generous, I think they’re mentally still in first grade.” Doyeon comments.

You don’t get to rebut as you see a glimpse of the resident chief coming your way. It seems that the rest noticed the same thing, and suddenly, you’re all scrambling from your comfortable positions on the ER beds and going your separate ways to the hallways.

You went to your go-to-barbecue restaurant as soon as your shift ended for the day.

The eating becomes a drinking session until everybody tapped out but you and Jungkook. More like, you, because Jungkook wasn’t drinking at all. Doyeon was the first one to call herself an Uber, and then Nayeon and Taehyung had to leave because they have an early shift the next day.

“Don’t you have a shift tomorrow?” You ask Jungkook, downing another shot glass of soju. Your alcohol tolerance is not that high nor is it that low, but after two bottles – you admit you’re starting to feel a little dazed.

“Yeah. Afternoon.” Jungkook responds. When he sees you pouring yourself another glass again, he takes the shot and downs it himself.

“Rude!” You pout at him.

“You’re all red and shit, it’s time to tap out.” Jungkook chuckles when you show him an even deeper frown. “Come on, it’s nearing twelve.”

“I’m so tired.” You whine, not even bothering to take your glass back from him, just letting your shoulder deflate and bowing your head down, your eyes becoming droopier by the second.

After four years of residency, you feel like you have started to operate on autopilot somehow. Wake up at fuck-ass o’clock at dawn to prep for work and finish a varying number of hours of shift for the week. You admittedly barely get time to partake in leisure activities – and it’s not new per say. It’s just like in med school except you’re actually doing the real thing now and instead of grades, real lives are involved and at stake – which puts an even bigger weight on your shoulders.

It’s why you’re thankful to Mingyu; for his presence… for starting to invite you to his place rather than eat out. Don’t get it twisted– you love the bougie dinners and all that, but his penthouse is definitely way more comfortable.

But lately you’ve forgotten about what it is like to hang out with your friends outside of the five-minute breaks in the hospital – and times like these you love letting yourself loose and relax because, hey, you deserve it a little!

“Should I buy you soup to drink in the car?” You can hear Jungkook ask. You don’t answer. “Yeah, I should buy you soup.” He tells himself.

And then you see him going to the counter only to come back after a few minutes with a paperbag in his hand.

“You’re drunk.” He announces.

You snicker. “I’m not.”

“You sure are.” Jungkook shakes his head as he takes you by your waist to help you stand up.

“Just feeling a little dizzy, ‘s all.” You mumble when you fall against his neck upon straightening your legs.

“You’re not just a little dizzy, silly.” Jungkook whispers against your head.

You hum as a response and you can feel the vibration on his chest as he laughs at you. He doesn’t say another word as he guides your steps outside of the restaurant, and before you know it, you’re situated in the passenger seat of his car, with him wearing your seatbelt around you.

“Thanks.” You give him a lopsided smile, shifting around in the space to get more comfortable.

“Welcome, your highness.” You giggle at his response. “Drink up, it’s gonna help you sober up.” He says, handing you the paper bowl of soup he bought from the restaurant a few minutes ago.

You groan, taking it from him and slowly sip from the cup. Jungkook tells you to get his water flask from his backpack on the back seat when you finish your soup.

The soup and water relieve you from the acid reflux you feel in your stomach. Only slightly. Because when you close your eyes and lean back on the seat more comfortably, that’s when you feel something in your throat.

“Jungkook,” You call him.

“Hm?”

“I think I want to puke.”

Jungkook immediately turns to look at you. “For real?”

You bite your bottom lip, nodding your head repeatedly.

“Okay, shit– wait,” Jungkook looks around for something. Probably a plastic bag or whatever. But when he finishes scoping the area around the interior of his car, he seems to find nothing. When he glances at the rearview mirror, he takes a reverse and suddenly, he turns off the ignition of his car. “I’ll park here for a while. Let’s go outside.”

He gets out of the car first before opening your door. You think you’re fine to walk on your own, but you don’t oppose to Jungkook wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you to a…

Playground. The swings, in particular.

“Sit here for a bit.” He instructs, holding the chains steady for you as he waits until you’re sitting on it. He runs towards the car, and you feel way too weird in the throat to ask him why.

You recognize the place that’s not exactly far away from your complex. Maybe a ten-minute drive away.

Jungkook comes back with a crumpled plastic bag. It’s from a familiar provision shop. Probably was in his compartment glove the whole time.

“Here,” he hands you the plastic. “I’ll help you.”

You get it from him and shake your head.

“No, it’s fine.”

“I don’t mind.”

You look at him straight in the eye. “You’re not gonna help me puke, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stares at you for a while and then sighs. He holds the chains of your swing again, standing beside you, putting his hand in his pockets.

“Okay. Puke your heart out.”

You snort. You open the plastic bag and get a feel of that weird invasive push in your throat – until you realize Jungkook is watching you.

Looking up at him, you whine, “Jungkook. Don’t watch.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “I’m not watching.”

“It��s gross.” You say, a bit embarrassed. The whole thing’s embarrassing, to be honest. Jungkook taking care of you because you got stupid drunk. It’s not the first time, and there were definitely a lot more occurrences worse than this – you’re just grateful he hasn’t kicked you out of a curb. Yet.

“Watching somebody puke?” He scoffs as he says your name. “We literally amputated a leg today, and FYI, I’m just scared you’re gonna have some serious complication while puking.”

You frown because– okay. Fair. He has valid points.

“Okay. Well. I’m not gonna die puking. So, turn around or stand back there at the slides far from me.”

“Seriously?” Jungkook asks, disbelief painting his voice.

You just nod. Thankfully, he doesn’t say any more and obediently walks about five steps away from you, acquiescing to your request.

It takes you a few minutes to settle yourself before you let out the accumulation of what you’ve digested for the day. Your throat feels crass when you’re done, and your stomach feels empty. When you look ahead, your head still feels like it’s floating. But at least you feel a little better now.

“Drink this,” Jungkook approaches you again and gives you his tumbler once again. You drink from it quickly and quietly. “Feel okay now?”

You hum, nodding and smiling up at him.

“Thanks, Kook.”

He only mirrors your smile and goes to sit on the swing beside you. “You wanna go home now?”

You nibble on your bottom lip, contemplating his question. As you look around, you notice it’s so... solemn. It’s midnight, after all. There’s a sort of eerie calmness with the cricket sounds but the wind is nice and the dark skies project twinkling lights.

“It’s so nice here,” You say instead.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Jungkook chuckles and you follow.

You look at him and sincerely, you ask, “Just for a few minutes, please?”

Jungkook’s quick to say, “Okay.”

His voice is just as gentle as the night breeze.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. You’re sobering up?”

“Eh. I’m getting there.”

“Good.”

You look at him again. “Thank you.”

Jungkook sends you a confused look, but there’s a smile on his face.

“I heard that.”

You chuckle. “And I’m saying it again. Thank you.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Alright. You’re welcome. Times two. And you’re not allowed to say it again.”

You both laugh at the exchange. The silence that follows after that is comfortable.

“You know, you still remember Changsub? My first boyfriend?” Jungkook nods at your words. “He asked me to be his girlfriend at a playground. Some old one in our hometown.” You pause for a while, recalling that memory. You laugh because it was just… so long ago. But the pictures are still so vivid in your head.

“Sweet. Too bad he’s an asshole, huh?” Jungkook comments, having known most of your relationship history.

“Yeah,” You shrug, laughing still. “But I, uhm, I remember a day after that– I had, like, this whole scenario in my head. I pictured a few years down the line, he’s on his knees and he’s showing me a ring asking me to be his wife on the very same playground. I thought it would be really sweet if he proposed to me at the same place.”

“Wow.” Jungkook muses, and you chuckle at the reaction.

“I know. It was crazy. I mean, why the hell was I thinking about getting married at that time? I was literally only sixteen and I think I had an AP assignment due the day after that. I was just so in my head.” You say, looking at Jungkook who has a smile of amusement on his face.

And then your laughter fades.

“I was so naive that time. But then I was also naive at twenty. And Jungkook…” You bite your bottom lip, feeling it quiver when you look into his eyes this time. “I’m afraid that I’m still naive at thirty.”

Jungkook calls your name softly, noticing the drop on your tone and the shift from playful to… melancholic.

You close your eyes and draw a deep breath.

“I like Mingyu. I really like him a lot,” And the declaration feels weird verbally announced. You’ve thought it for the past few weeks you’ve been with him – but you’ve both never said it to each other. Not yet. But saying it out loud now – it feels different. It feels real. And you’re so scared. “And we enjoy each other’s company a lot that I feel like he likes me just as much as I like him. You know, we kissed on the first date. I don’t usually kiss on the first date. But I like him so much that I did.”

You look at Jungkook sadly. You gauge the look on his face, but he just sits there with an unreadable expression on his face, though he listens. He always does. You’re not particularly looking for any response, anyway. And he just seems to know so well that right now, you just want to vent.

“It’s so embarrassing to say but I feel like he’s it, Kook.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “And I feel like… like the last time I felt this way about someone was with Eunwoo. And that was four years ago—” You let your head fall slightly. “And I’m so scared.” You don’t intend the crack in your voice when you say it.

“Hey,” Jungkook calls you again, turning his body towards you, reaching out to hold your arm.

“What if I’m wrong? Again?” You tell him.

It takes Jungkook a few seconds to answer.

“I think, __, that you’re a person with a big heart,” You scoff with a smile on your face at that. You get that a lot. But Jungkook insists, “I think you have so much love to give, you know? And I think… Mingyu’s a lucky guy if he gets to receive it.”

That makes your lips curl. Touched.

“You think so?”

Jungkook only nods.

“Why can’t you be nice to me like this all the time?” You crack a joke.

“I’m always nice to you,” Jungkook says in disbelief, obviously finding your words absurd. You only laugh but now Jungkook turns serious, and you fear you might have induced a genuine worry in him. “Am I not always nice to you?”

“You always tease me and shit in front of our friends but so incredibly sweet when we’re all alone.”

Jungkook stutters when he says, “Well… that’s my love language. Teasing you.”

You squint your eyes at him. “Awe, you love me?”

“Okay, fuck off.”

You burst into laughter when Jungkook rolls his eyes at you.

“Hey, swing me.”

You tell Jungkook, situating yourself more comfortably on the wooden platform attached to the chains.

“A dollar per minute.” He says, standing up from his own seat and placing himself behind you.

“I thought you hate capitalism? What is this?”

“This is forced labor.” Jungkook says with a groan that you think is a feigned exasperation, since you begin to feel movement right after it.

“You broke my hairdryer the other day. Consider this your compensation.” You look up at him to give him a smarmy smile.

Fom where you’re seated, you realize just how… big his presence is. It’s not the looming, ominous type, though – it’s quite the opposite. When Jungkook surrounds you, you find a bit of comfort in it – a huge one if you want to be honest to yourself.

“And I already bought you a new one. We’re even.” Jungkook squints his eyes at you.

You laugh.

“You’re gonna borrow and break it again.”

He visibly winces. “Touché.”

Jungkook swings you while you talk about your day, just like usual. He asks you about your laparoscopy that kept you from having lunch with the rest of your friends at the hospital earlier that day, about your new scrub cap, and you gossip a little about the new lab tech having a crush on the scrub nurse you both know.

For all his complaints earlier, Jungkook seemingly doesn’t seem to mind having swung you for the past ten minutes now. He’s relaxed and gentle with his movements, and his voice is quaint and soft as he talks to you.

But then you start to feel bad for him so you tell him to stop, standing up from the swing.

“Okay, your turn.”

Jungkook gives you a big grin.

“Nice.”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm when he sits on the swing chair this time around. But when you attempt a push, he barely moves, prompting him to laugh.

“What weak ass push was that?” He says incredulously, looking at you.

You jut your bottom lip out. “You’re heavy and I’m drunk.”

The second time you push him is more forceful but then Jungkook voices out a complaint after the third, fourth, and every single time you do it. You roll your eyes at his tantrums, but then suddenly, you think of a much better idea.

You push him off the swing with all your remaining strength even though your body feels like jelly from all the alcohol you consumed an hour ago.

“What the fuck, __?”

You burst out in boisterous laughter at Jungkook’s state, his hands and knees planted on the ground. He then sits on it, clapping his palms together to get rid of some dust that gathered on his skin.

Without thinking too much about it, you make quick steps over to his direction and situate yourself beside him.

Jungkook looks at you, confused, but you only give him a grin.

“Let’s lie on the ground.”

“What? No!” Jungkook immediately opposes it. As you expected.

You scrunch your face. “Oh! Look at me! I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’m a germaphobe and I’m afraid of dirt!” You say, intentionally making your voice a pitch higher.

Jungkook deadpans. “Pathogens can kill your cells’ metabolic machinery, so, yeah? I’m afraid of dirt.”

You roll your eyes at him and while he goes off about how they can also cause a toxic massive immune reaction, you push his chest forcefully which catches him off guard, prompting him to lay on the ground. Before he can say anything, you take his arm out to spread beside you and you use it to rest your head on.

Jungkook stops his rambling after that.

“See, shut up.” You say, backhanding him slightly on the chest. You fix your gaze at the skies.

“The sky is beautiful tonight. Worry about your pathogens next time.”

Jungkook chuckles, and you feel the vibration of his body as he does so, being so close to him.

As you peer up to look at him, you see him folding his other arm to lie his head on it.

You smile, going back to looking at the sky.

“This is like in The Notebook.” Jungkook says after a beat of silence.

“Right?” You grin. “And with the pathogens, too.” You tease.

Jungkook laughs, pinching your arm in his reach. “God, shut up about your pathogens.”

You chuckle at the irony.

“That’s me,” you point upwards, referring to a big twinkling light in the sky. Then, you move your finger towards the star beside it. “And then that’s you, ‘cause I’m a bigger star than you.”

You feel Jungkook look at you from his position. “You are so drunk.”

That causes you to giggle, clutching your stomach because you can’t stop laughing at pretty much everything tonight.

“I feel like I'm not anymore. My head just feels like it’s floating but no, definitely not drunk.”

“Whatever you say.” Jungkook says, chest vibrating from laughing at you.

“Hm. Race you to sleep, Jungkook.” You snuggle on his armpit. As you do, you smell a waft of your water lily springs body wash from Bath and Body Works. “Can you stop using my body wash?”

“What?” You can hear Jungkook say, but as he calls your name and more, his voice starts fading. “__? Hey, don’t sleep on me.”

You hum, eyes still closed.

“__, hey!” Jungkook grazes your arms. You can feel your head moving as Jungkook starts to sit, guiding your back to sit upright. He calls you again, gently tapping your cheek to wake you up.

The truth is, you’re really sleepy, but not so much that you can’t hear him anymore or move on your own.

Jungkook gives up trying to wake you up, though, convinced by your acting. Soon, he goes over in front of you, reaching for your arms and placing them around his neck.

“Just put your legs around me, yeah?” He whispers against your hair once you’re glued against his back.

You hum, intending it to sound like a mumble so Jungkook thinks you don’t actually understand.

Jungkook fixes your legs around him, standing up, bouncing a little to get you nice and snug in his back. You smile at the prospect of a piggyback ride.

“I know you’re awake, silly,” He says suddenly, his voice painted with amusement.

You stifle your laughter against his neck, breaking your supposed to be convincing act.

“Race you to the car, Kook.” you whisper into his ear.

Jungkook scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything more until you reach his car. He wears your seatbelt for you, though, and tells you to drink more water from his tumbler.

You fall asleep easily mid-drive.

In the morning, you wake up with a banging headache, your eyes catching the sight of a post-it note on your desk with one tab of Advil.

morning/afternoon stinky i made porridge before i left for my shift just heat it up again when you wake up ps: your medical bill from my personal care will be discussed later when i get back home. no friends discount allowed — your angelic friend, kookie

You chuckle at the (annoyingly elaborate) sketch of an angry bunny on the side.

“Mingyu,” you call his attention. Mingyu turns to look at you. “This is a really nice place.”

He smiles at your remark. Mingyu moves his hand from your waist to your lower back as he leads you to the entrance door.

“I’m glad you think so. I’ve been wanting to bring you here for a while.”

When you both reach the door, Mingyu introduces himself to the butler. You let the two of them talk for a while, him confirming his reservation, your eyes roaming around the restaurant and taking in the classy interior.

“Please follow me, Mr. Kim and Ms. __,”

The butler gestures inside and you both follow behind him.

It’s another one of your date nights. While it isn’t unusual for you both to get fancy with dinners, you’ve gotten used to the casual dinners you’ve been having at his own place with take-outs and his impressive cooking.

But tonight is a little different. There’s a certain something in the air – especially when Mingyu especially asked you to dress a little more formally. He always has a suit on naturally with his line of work, but tonight he’s wearing a particularly shiny one. The tie is something you’ve never seen before, but maybe you just like to think that. You on the other hand settled for an indigo satin dress that hugs your figure like a glove and shows just enough skin. You’ve always thought you looked good in it.

And you think it’s perfect for when Mingyu asks something that will change the trajectory of your relationship for good.

Today marks the third month since you started seeing each other. You don’t know if he’s aware of it – but it’s been, indeed, whole three months. An monthsary some sort? Granted, there’s no official label to it, at least not yet. But with the fancy set-up and the way he cryptically replied to when you asked him what the whole thing was for tonight, you think he does know. And this is his idea of surprise.

Of course, you don’t let yourself get obsessed with the idea lest you end up with only mere assumptions.

“Thank you.” You both say to the butler as he leads you both to your table. He gives you the menu book and you take your sweet time to choose from the selection, giving the butler your orders after a few minutes.

When he leaves, Mingyu looks at you wearing his usual charming smile.

You don’t think you’ll ever tire of his face.

“This is really fancy,” You tell him, smiling.

“It’s sort of like special place,” Mingyu chuckles. “You know, Mr. Yang– the senior partner over at work– officially announced me as partner here.” He tells you, eyes looking into yours.

You feel your heart do a somersault at his gaze and the possibility of his words.

“Good steak?” You say, trying to act oblivious to the weight of his confession. You also don’t want to assume he’s saying what you think he’s saying…

“Yeah, yeah,” He nods his head, chuckling, then his laughter fades as he begins to look more serious when he continues, “So… it’s been three months since we started seeing each other.”

Your heart skips a bit when you listen to his words. You didn’t think what you were thinking earlier was true, but now that he’s brought it up, you deduce you might not be too far away.

“__,” Mingyu calls. You hum, leaning in closer to let him know you’re listening attentively. He gives you a coy smile, then his hand on the table moves over towards yours. You don’t fight your big smile off when he places it on top of yours, especially when you feel the warmth it radiates and how it looks like it could just easily enclose your own. “You said you wanted to take things slow, and I respect that. I just want you to know that this is – this thing between us – it’s serious for me.”

“I’m serious about us two.” You say immediately.

Mingyu chuckles, simpering when he looks at you again. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“So?” You ask, waiting.

“I want to be your boyfriend. If you let me.” Mingyu says, clear and firm. “It’s just… I’m happy with our dates. And I just love hanging out with you. But I think I’ll be even happier if we go out together as boyfriend and girlfriend – officially – from now on.”

You nibble on your bottom lip; couldn’t contain the big smile you’ve been fighting against since earlier.

You’ve been expecting the question ever since you got here, but you’re quite surprised for your assumptions to be right.

“Okay.” You say coolly.

Mingyu furrows his brow. “Okay– as in…?”

“Okay, as in, I wanna be your girlfriend.”

His lips part. “Are you… for real?” You nod your head repeatedly, stifling a giggle as Mingyu begins to smile so widely. “Fuck.”

“Hey,” you lightheartedly scold.

Mingyu nods his head, still smiling. “I’m sorry, I’m just—” he cuts himself off with a chuckle. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

“Yeah.” You chuckle.

“I wish I can kiss you right now.”

You feel your cheeks heat up as you look around. There are too many people. But the hopeless romantic in you tells you it’s okay.

“Why won’t you?” You challenge him, and Mingyu arches a brow at that.

He looks like he’s giving in, but then he shakes his head. With a smile that borders on flirtatious, he leans closer to you and whispers, “Later.”

Mingyu’s sweet promise at the restaurant ends up with you straddling his lap on the driver’s seat, your dress riding over your thighs and the thin straps falling off your shoulder.

"Fuck," Mingyu breathes in your ear, hands full of your ass while you continue to grind against the bulging crotch of his slacks.

You're not any better, panting on the crook of his neck as he encourages you to move on top of him. You feel the wet kisses he bestows across the column of your neck, moaning at the delicious friction from one particular thrust of his hips.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, in your defense. Your dinner ended on a really good note and Mingyu was just supposed to lean in for one sweet kiss once you were situated in his car.

But then you swiped your tongue over his lips and Mingyu threw away his gentlemanly act for the night, granting you back with a kiss that had more fervor in it. Forceful in a way that says he wants you.

And the feeling’s more than mutual.

His coat’s long gone now, stashed away on his back seat, and you’ve already undone the top three buttons of his dress shirt. Mingyu squeezes your boob over the thin material of your dress, prompting you to let out a low moan.

“Why—” Mingyu cuts himself off to kiss your lips one more time.

“Why don’t we go to your place?”

You don’t register his words the first time, too drunk from the sensation of his touch over your body.

“Yeah?” You mindlessly say, eyes shut as Mingyu peppers kisses to your jaw down to your neck once again.

“You’ve never invited me to your place.”

At that, your eyes open and you still on top of him.

“What?”

Mingyu looks up, and you’re about to be distracted by his messy hair and his swollen lips but then he says, “We’ve never gone to your place before.”

“Oh.”

He’s quick to gauge your reaction. Cupping your jaw, he plants a kiss to the side of your lips. “I’m not insisting if you don’t want to.”

“N-no, I want to,” is your immediate response. “It’s just…” you trail off, thinking about how to approach the subject.

Mingyu hums, waiting for your next words, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. It helps you regulate your nervousness at the sudden mention of your place.

“I have a roommate.”

There you let it out.

Somehow in the past three months you’ve been dating, you never mentioned that you’re living with Jungkook. The subject just never came up – until now, that is – and you didn’t really feel the need to tell him when he never asked in the first place.

But deep inside, you’re a bit hesitant to tell him about it. Sure, Jungkook’s his friend, and Mingyu did say they were close and knew each other well, so it shouldn’t be a problem for him that you’re residing with his close friend – but that’s exactly what makes the whole thing weird. It’s one thing as a woman to live with a man in one place, and it’s another if that man is a friend of your – well, now boyfriend.

And you know to yourself that you and Jungkook are purely platonic so there should be absolutely nothing to be worried about. It’s not even that you don’t trust Mingyu to understand – it’s just that it’s not as easy to tell him straight up. Not when you’re just starting a relationship right now with an official label to it – not when you’re finally in a serious relationship after four whole years of looking and waiting.

You don’t want to ruin it. Not right now.

“Oh, okay.” Mingyu nods at your confession, understanding. “Is it why…?”

You nod your head, already getting what he means. Licking your lips, you look anywhere but his eyes. Instead, you focus your gaze on the exposed upper part of his chest and let your fingers toy with his collar. Mingyu lets you.

“But… roommate’s away for the night.” You tell him. And it’s true. Jungkook told you he has a date tonight and that usually means he won’t be going home.

And you want Mingyu so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

That puts a smile on your boyfriend’s face.

“She is, huh?”

Your heart skips a bit, and you give him a smile you hope he doesn’t recognize as fake.

Somehow, you don’t bother to correct him even though Jungkook – your very roommate – is most definitely not a she.

“And here goes my bedroom,” You say as you open your door, letting Mingyu in. You’re not really worried about its state because thank god you cleaned up before leaving for your date tonight. Jungkook’s the cleaner one though, and that’s an advantage because he’s kind of obsessed with cleaning the whole apartment and not just his room when he has the time. It’s exactly why Mingyu pays you a compliment on the neatness of the place.

“Cute,” he muses, looking at the Sanrio plushies on your nightstand.

“Yeah.” You nod, feeling a little shy. Mingyu’s place is the definition of bachelor – his bedroom’s literally out of an Architectural Digest page. And while you’re proud of your Sanrio plushie collection – they’re your childhood gifts and you’ve collected them until college and they were expensive as hell – you can’t help but think that maybe you’re coming off as childish right now. You wish you could’ve hidden them or something…

You hope Mingyu doesn’t think too much about it.

“I like the room,” Mingyu says, looking at you who’s sitting on the edge of your bed. “It feels very… you.”

“Really?” You chuckle. “I mean, I’d hope so. I’ve been here for two years.”

Mingyu chuckles, following you to the bed. You feel the mattress sinking in when he sits beside you.

“I wanted to give you something at the restaurant earlier, but I kinda chickened out,” He says.

You arch your brow. “What is it?”

You watch as Mingyu takes something out of his pocket, your heart skipping a few beats when it turns out to be a jewelry box. Mingyu looks at you and smiles, hands slowly opening the velvet box, and your lips part when it reveals a dainty silver necklace with a small drop diamond pendant.

“Wow.” You utter, eyes blinking repeatedly, not knowing how to react.

“Well…?” Mingyu says, gauging your reaction.

“You’re giving that to me?” You ask in pure disbelief. He only nods. “That’s really– it’s really pretty.”

“I thought about you when I picked it up. It made sense.” He says smoothly, and you giggle at his words.

God, you like him so much.

“I honestly don’t know what to say,” You chuckle, cupping your face with your hands as if it could make the blood go away from your cheeks. “Thank you.”

“I’d love to wear it on you.” Mingyu smiles.

“Of course.”

He takes out the necklace from the box and asks you to turn around for a bit. You do so, helping him put your hair over one shoulder. You can feel him scooting closer to your back, his breathing on your nape, and the way he slowly caresses your shoulder first before his arms go around your neck to lock the necklace around your nape.

The cold of the material hits your skin, just on time when you feel Mingyu planting a kiss on your clavicle.

“It’s really pretty.” You say in awe, touching the pendant.

“Hm,” Mingyu continues to pepper your skin with small kisses. “You’re beautiful.” You turn to look at him, smiling. He mirrors that and cups your jaw to give you a peck on the lips. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You giggle when he squeezes your waist.

“Thank you.” you say in between your laughter. You hold his arms and stand up from the bed to place yourself in front of him. Mingyu looks up at you with one brow raised, but he’s quick to manspread when you begin to straddle his lap. As you situate yourself on top of him, you wrap your arms around his neck and let him run his hands across your body when you do so. “I really appreciate the necklace.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu whispers against your lips.

You hum, trailing your fingers down his collar then start to unbutton his shirt. When you get the few undone, you look Mingyu into his eyes and he meets your lips that crash into his in a few seconds.

You suppose it’s not exactly surprising that the kiss turns heated way too quickly. After all, you were both humping each other in his car earlier.

Sighing into the kiss, you tug at his hair, and it prompts his hands to squeeze your ass a little too tight. Mingyu breaks the kiss and there’s a barely noticeable string of saliva when your lips move away from each other. He trails kisses from your jaw down to the base of your neck, taking the straps of your dress down, hands beginning to rub your bare arms.

“So beautiful,” Mingyu sighs, lips travelling back to your own. He prods his tongue in your mouth that you gladly open for him. You let out a moan from the sensation of his tongue against yours, clutching his shoulders so hard you're sure you're gonna imprint your nails on his skin despite the shirt he still has on.

"Mingyu," you whisper, mouth ajar and gaping uselessly against his hair as his mouth leaves yours eventually to go down to your cleavage. His wandering fingers go around your back to fumble with the ribbons that are holding the dress, and you’re quick to help him tug it down completely until your chest is out for his full viewing.

Mingyu hisses at the lack of bra – except the nipple tapes – when the top of the dress comes off. He stops and stares, then takes a long and deep breath, as if the sight of your breasts intoxicated him; sighing as if he's long wished to see you like this.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so hot." He cups the swell of your chest in his two large palms, fondling them as you continue rolling your pelvis against his straining crotch area. He grazes the silicon material covering your nipples, looks up at you as if to ask.

“Y-yeah,” you sigh out, knowing what he meant with the look.

Taking them off gently, Mingyu earns a moan from you, the sound getting a bit louder when he puts one of the two peaks in his mouth, and the sight is nothing short of erotic.

It elicits a sharp breath from you, hands flying to his soft and brunette locks. You almost feel bad thinking that you've been grabbing at them since earlier.

But you have more important things to mind than attending to Mingyu’s silky and healthy hair.

You seek for his lips which he gives you almost automatically when he notices you asking for it, the two of you meeting in a hungry kiss, your nails on one hand clawing at his back as you cup his jaw in the other. But his hands don't leave your breasts, palming them roughly but just right; squeezing so hard all the while tugging at your nipples.

For a moment, you take a halt, catching your breath and look at him with your hooded eyes. You kiss the corner of his mouth. "Take your shirt off."

He does as you say so, and you help him unbutton the entirety of his dress shirt to get the thing off him faster. Mingyu lets go of your boobs but quickly holds them as soon as his shirt is off. This time he flicks at both your nipples, and you can’t help but bite at his neck. The pleasure’s too much and you can feel yourself dripping down your thong, the sticky feeling of it making you squirm on his lap.

As if Mingyu has read your mind, he grips your waist and sets you down on the bed. He hovers over you, fingers idly exploring under the skirt of your dress until he finds the band of your panties.

You groan when you feel the cold brush of air on your bare thighs, suddenly feeling impatient. "Mingyu,"

“You want me to eat you out?” He whispers, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You almost cry at his question.

“Yes,”

Mingyu drags his fingers on your clothed core, groaning when he feels how soiled your thong is. "You're so fucking wet, sweetheart. Look at you," he sighs, hands leaving your pussy as he leans back and palms the strain of his pants. Your toes curl at the sight, uneven breaths puffing from your lips. "Look so sweet under me."

And you're also a mess under him, writhing and completely getting lightheaded from his actions.

You let out a mewl when he pushes up the skirt of your dress to your hips, dragging down your underwear to your thighs.

Lifting your butt off the mattress, you help him get it off of you completely and you don't miss the way the flimsy thong sticks to your pussy before he takes it off you entirely. Mingyu seems to notice as well, judging from the way he hissed under his breath.

Your pussy is slick and sloppy, wet and dripping for him.

"So fucking pretty for me, god, I can’t believe I get to have you like this," he whispers against your throbbing heat, leaving a small kiss on your clit.

You arch your back when he uses his finger to run it through your slit, adding another one to spread your walls. Mingyu groans at the juices that stick to his digits.

As he adjusts himself on the mattress, hands gripping the back of your knees, you push them up until you're bended in almost half. You hold up your own legs, getting whiplashed when he licks a long, firm and deep stripe over you, making your eyes roll from the back of your head, breath hitching as you keep yourself steady in your own hold.

"Oh my god – Mingyu!–"

He starts slow, kissing around your labia, the tip of his tongue teasing your clit. Your head falls from the mountain of pillows under you, suddenly feeling frustrated.

"S-stop teasing me. Please, Mingyu,"

Ending your misery, he spreads your thighs, puckers his lips and dusts a few pecks over your bare heat and dives in for it seconds later with too much fervor. He savors every drop that oozes out from your hole, licking and lapping until you feel his tongue inside you. Mingyu could be spelling out his name for all it matters, but you really couldn't give a fuck.

"Oh, fuuuuck–" you groan, trying so hard to keep yourself steady. "S-so good,"

He hums in your pussy, and you don't help the way one of your legs drop to the mattress, the other one hooking on his shoulder. It makes you grab for his hair, pushing his head down and thrashing underneath his face.

It felt like minutes passed and you're almost crying by how good it all feels, his tongue doing wonders in the walls of your heat.

Soon, tears start to well in your eyes because of the pleasure, drawn out moans and heavy breaths filling the room. You couldn’t care less about the volume. Right now, you just want to cum.

"Your fingers, Mingyu,” You sigh out, and before you could even prepare yourself, he's inserting his middle finger inside you, pushing it in until it's knuckle-deep. "Oh god!"

“Yeah?”

He starts at an average pace until he adds another finger in your entrance, this time picking up his speed – and it makes you drip everywhere.

When he settles on scissoring his fingers inside you, moving at an abnormal pace that have you gasping under him, your body shake and your toes curl on the sheets. Mingyu swoops down to kiss your pussy again, two digits being repeatedly swallowed by your warm hole, slurping every juice that comes out of it. As he feels you tremble, the precedence of you nearing your climax, he takes his thumb to your clit.

"Oh, fuck, fuck," your pant, "I'm coming–fuck–“

Mingyu removes his fingers from you, exchanging them with his tongue instead and you cry out while he continues to rub your clit vigorously.

And when you arch your back higher this time, you spasm around his fingers, moaning uncontrollably.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it,” Mingyu whispers, pecking your heat a few more times to calm you down from your high. After a few moments, he removes your thigh from his shoulder, quickly coming up to kiss you on the mouth.

You taste yourself on his tongue but you couldn’t pay much attention to it when you feel his dick against your thigh. Closing your eyes, you let exhaustion wash over you.

Mingyu lets you stay still, and when you open your eyes again, you see him staring at you with a warm smile dancing across his lips. Your heart skips a beat, could no longer feel it but hear it instead, and you bite your lip, pushing his chest away slightly in an attempt to get on top of him.

“Let me suck your cock.” You say, but Mingyu shakes his head, firm on his place: on top of you.

“Let’s do that next time. Tonight, I have to fuck you well into the next day.”

And he does.

You didn't cum again – you usually don't from penetrative sex – and your first orgasm exhausted you way too much to let yourself go the second time. Mingyu didn't mind, telling you it was fine when you gave him an apology about it.

You wake up panicking at the thought that you’re going to be late for work.

Scrambling to sit on your bed, you take your alarm clock in your hands, letting out a dramatic “Thank god” when you see it read as 5:06am. Your alarm goes off at 5:30 as your weekday shift starts at seven.

Which means it’s still early. And you’re not going to be late for work like you feared.

You remember last night’s events though, and your eyes quickly go over to the other side of your bed.

Mingyu’s not in it – but it feels warm. An indication of the fact that he stayed the night over after what you did. You also deduced that he must’ve only gotten out a few minutes before you woke up.

Thinking he’s outside your room, you begin to stand up – groaning the way your thighs ache a bit as you do so. You’re only dressed in your panties and camisole, and you thought about going out in them – but then it made you feel a little weird. Okay, sure, Mingyu’s already seen everything there is to see – you had sex last night – but being naked in a non-sexual fashion in front of someone is kind of a little different, so you opt on putting on a pair of short shorts.

As you head towards your door, fingers ready to twist the knob, you’re surprised to see Mingyu meeting you halfway.

“Hey—”

“Why the hell is Jungkook here?”

Your smile drops and you look at him in confusion.

Mingyu wears an expression you’ve never seen him in before. He’s pissed. Eyebrows furrowed, gaze not soft like it usually is when it comes to you, and above all… his tone borders on accusatory.

“Why is he in the living room saying he’s your roommate?” Mingyu asks once again when you don’t say anything.

“I—” but you’re rendered speechless, frozen in your position. Your mouth moves but nothing comes out. Your brain is a jumble of thoughts and all you can think about is Mingyu seemingly getting mad at you.

“__?” A voice that’s absolutely familiar speaks up. You hear Jungkook’s steps getting closer to your door when he finally shows himself to you. “What’s Mingyu doing here? And why doesn’t he know we live together?”

Mingyu forces himself inside your bedroom and bumps into you a bit as he faces you with a venomous tone. “I’m going.” He declares, grabbing his shirt from your desk chair and putting on his belt.

“Mingyu, it’s not—”

“Save it, __.” He cuts you off before you can finish your sentence, hastily buttoning up his dress shirt.

Jungkook frowns and butts in. “Mingyu, let her talk. I told you earlier, we’re roommates—”

“Jeon,” You turn to look at him, almost spitting out his name. “Not now.”

You see Jungkook visibly recoiling at that. But you’re too concerned over Mingyu already on his way out the door, ready to leave.

“Mingyu, just hear me out.” You say, looking at him sincerely.

“I don’t wanna hear it. Not right now.” Mingyu tells you with a cold look paired with a cold tone. You deflate, taken aback at how nothing on his face screams like he cares about you. He glances at his watch. “I have to go to work.”

He heads towards your apartment door and you follow him there, hoping to change his mind about hearing you out.

“I know what you’re thinking right now, and it’s not that, Gyu.” You tell him once again, following him outside your unit.

Mingyu stands there for a while. Then, he sighs, putting his thumb over his temple. He heaves out a breath, looking into your eyes as he says, “I just don’t want to talk about it right now, okay? Let’s just… let things cool down for a bit.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “How do you mean?”

“I’m flying to Chicago this afternoon but I’ll be back in the evening. I’ll call you later after work.” He says, and now his face doesn’t look so devoid of emotions like how it was earlier.

But you worry about his words.

“You’re flying to another state.” You reiterate, just so you know you heard him right.

“It’s just for a few hours, sweetheart,” The petname soothes you a little but then he continues to add, “Look, I’m not sure of how I feel about… Jungkook being your roommate. You didn’t tell me about it– just imagine my surprise when I saw him after I went out of your room. It’s not a nice feeling to get lied to,” He says, and you feel an arrow shooting straight to your heart at that. You blink your eyes, feeling like there are tears forming on the sides. Mingyu seems to notice that as he steps closer to you and rubs your arm. “We’ll talk later, __. Just not now. Give me time to process this.”

You give him a weak smile.

Mingyu cups your cheek, and you lean towards his touch. Rubbing a thumb over your skin, he leans down to kiss your lips.

When he breaks away after a quick moment, he tells you, “Later, hm? I promise.” You nod. Mingyu gives you a smile. “And thank you for last night.”

That erases your worry. Not all, but some of it.

“Thank you too.”

“Alright, I’m going, okay?” Mingyu lets go of your face and you look at him as he turns around after you bid your goodbye.

You watch his retreating back in the hallway from your position, nibbling on your bottom lip trying to process the turn of events – and it’s only five fucking am still.

When you enter your apartment again, you see Jungkook sitting on the couch of your living room. And he looks just as pissed when your gaze falls to him.

“What the hell was that?” He welcomes you with.

“What the hell is this?” You point back at him. “You told me you weren’t coming home.”

“Yeah, but I have work – which we both go to at the same time, by the way. Apparently, you’re bringing boys now to this goddamn place.”

You do a double take at his tone.

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” You say, voicing starting to pick up volume. You feel irritation bubbling up inside you as Jungkook stands up from the couch and turns his back to you, ignoring your question as he heads to the direction of the kitchen.

“I said we’re both gonna be late for work.”

You follow his steps. “No, you said I’m “bringing boys here”, what do you mean by that?” You grab his arm and that’s effective enough to make him turn around and look at you. But he avoids eye contact. “Don’t turn your back to me when I’m talking to you, Jungkook.”

“I’m so sorry then, I’ll make sure to look into your eyes when I say every word that comes out of my mouth from now on.” He sarcastically says, and your annoyance grows.

“Watch your goddamn tone.”

Jungkook scoffs. “You’re the one to talk about watching tones when you literally just told me to shut up in front of your boyfriend?”

Your frown instantly. So you were right to think that moved him a little. But you tell him your confusion, “Where the hell did you get that? I didn’t tell you to shut up.”

“Yeah, you just told me “not now” like I’m a child trying to insert himself in mommy and daddy’s little argument. You might as well just have told me to shut the fuck up.”

The way he phrased your argument with Mingyu “little” rubs you off the wrong way.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” you sarcastically say. “Did getting told to shut up by a woman in front of another man hurt your big macho man ego?”

“You’re making it about another thing.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, opening the refrigerator and taking out a loaf of bread.

“You think I forgot about your little “bringing boys here” comment?” You point out, but Jungkook decides now is the time to be an asshole and starts acting nonchalant instead, putting jam all over his bread. But you see the tick in his jaw, the tongue prodding against his mouth. He’s just as pissed as you are right now.

“And you sure as hell did. I don’t know what to tell you.”

You seethe. “Fuck you. I don’t bring “boys” here. Mingyu’s my boyfriend,” You say, and to be petty, you add, “As if you’ve never ever brought girls here before?”

Jungkook looks at you instantly. “Don’t you dare pin that on me. That was in the very first week that we lived together, mind you. But you told me how uncomfortable it made you feel and I thought about boundaries since then and never did it again. Why do you think I come over at their place instead of just hanging out here, huh, __? Even when we didn’t verbally agree on not having sex around this place, I thought it would be a goddamn principle. Heck,” He looks somewhere and scoffs, “Mingyu didn’t even know I’m your roommate. What did you tell him?”

You open your mouth to make a rebuttal, but nothing comes.

Because you realize in the middle of his outburst that… he’s right.

The first time that you saw a woman coming out of his own room and Jungkook noticing your discomfort about it, he just stopped doing his… thing in the apartment. It wasn’t a verbal agreement, as per his words, but he’s right. It should have been a principle.

In the past two years you lived with each other – that was the only time he ever did it. It became an unspoken rule: don’t bring your hook-ups here. But you never really had to worry about that unspoken rule because you didn’t do one-night-stands often, and when you did hook up with people over the past two years, it was rare so it was easy to do it in their place.

It has become a norm for you that you don’t see other people here anymore except for your friends when they invite themselves over – but you aren’t aware that Jungkook’s apparently making an active choice to specifically not hook up in here this whole time.

Coupled with the fact that you didn’t tell Mingyu about him being your roommate and him being caught up with your argument earlier – you feel a sense of guilt. A huge one at that.

But the stubborn part in you thinks that Mingyu’s different. He’s not a mere hook-up. He’s your boyfriend now! Couldn’t that be an exemption to the rule that’s unspoken in the first place?

“I…” you trail off, scolding yourself internally for not forming a coherent thought faster than you’d like.

When you don’t follow it up with anything, Jungkook takes his plate with him, turning on his heels away from you.

“See you at work.” He says, but it’s sarcastic and clipped.

Jungkook leaves one piece of bread for you though – just like he always does. And you take that as a sign that he’s not all that mad at you.

… Maybe?

You stand there in the middle of your kitchen island like some stupid stoned individual, going over the things that happened for the past – what – twenty minutes? You don’t even fucking know. Your wall clock in the living room had run out of battery, and your brain is too occupied with messy thoughts scattered all around you can feel a headache coming.

One thing’s for sure, though: you’re in the wrong. With Mingyu and with Jungkook. And you need to make it right somehow.

PART TWO | PART THREE

#jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts angst #mingyu smut #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #svt smut #svt x reader #bts x reader #fic: tlp #awrkive

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rene-darling · 6 months

Text

WOULD- he send n00ds? And how?

...would these modern college AU genshin men send n00ds to you?...

...Xiao...wanderer...lyney...

Xiao

No.

Absolutely- not.

The very idea is preposterous and disgusting. And after all, he's heard wayyy too many stories of a person's nudes getting leaked, and he does not want his stuff all out there.

He trusts you, yes. But especially at the beginning of your relationship, there's not enough trust for him to do that.

Xiao doesn't usually go to frat parties, but his friend is the one throwing this one so he felt obliged to go. What could go wrong?

Xiao doesn't drink, nor does he party, but after chugging drink after drink and being sat in a circle playing truth or dare, his tipsy mind is feeling rather- ballsy.

So it goes as follows, he picks dare and gets dared into sending nudes to the last person he's messaged, Xiao's great at keeping secrets so no one knows that you're dating, truth be told- even in his drunken state if the last number he texted had been anyone else, he wouldn't have done it.

But it's you. So his drunken mind agrees. He takes a rather risky photo, some alcohol is dripping from his mouth, sweat runs down his forehead, his back is arched and he gives such a sultry look. Then, he presses sent. The rest of his night is spent partying and drinking more, so his memory of doing this fades into bliss- that is, until the next morning.

Accompanying his painful headache is a certain memory, that makes him physically gag in remembrance, he rushes to check his phone, hoping- praying that you didn't see it- he thinks he's gonna faint from embarrassment when he sees the little *seen* at the bottom of the text.

Fuck. You saw it. You didn't even respond- he shoves his head into the pillow screaming externally and internally- you fucking saw it! And-...you didn't even respond..does that mean you don't like it..? Wait. That's the least of his worries!!!

He's happy about the fact that he doesn't have to see you in his first few classes. But then, it's time for a class that you both have together.

He has half the mind just to skip, but eventually, he has to face you, better be it now than later right?

Whatever, it'll be fine, he'll just explain to you- that he didn't mean it, he was drunk n at a party he wasn't thinkin-

Suddenly Xiao hisses as he's pulled into the janitors closet on his way to class, he swiftly turns his head to glare at the person who did this- it's you.

"So, Xiao, about the pictures you sent. I called you at least 10 times after those, but..you didn't answer." He opens and closes his mouth like a fish, his whole plan goes out the window as he just meekly stares up at you. This wasn't what he expected, but it wasn't something he disliked-..perhaps...he should send some to you even when he has clarity of mind?

Wanderer

Far too skeptical to entertain such a thought.

If you mention it first he'll just scoff at you and give you a dirty glare "Do I look like one of your whores?" "But baby- you're my only whore not one of them-" expect to get a glare from him the whole lecture, in and out of the class. His stare is practically sending you a death threat

Later, if he catches himself thinking about what you asked of him he cringes at himself and the thought.

He's not one to trust people easily, he's been stabbed in the back, and betrayed far too much to be vulnerable enough and to trust you enough to send nudes.

His head runs wild, what if you didn't like what you saw? What if you decided he was so ugly you needed to share those photos with those around you? What if, what if what if.

It's only later on, deep into your relationship that the thought of sending pics crosses his mind once more.

He's tapping his foot harshly against the ground. He's sitting at his seat as students pour into the lecture hall, his eyes scan the room as he sees you walk in and wave at him, just like always. You sit next to him, but he just can't maintain eye contact.

He has his phone in his right hand, staring at the screen intently as the sound of the classroom processes as background noise for him. Should he? What if you don't like it? What if you just meant it as a joke and you'll actually get disgusted once you gaze upon the photos..?

He sighs resting his head on his desk in contemplation. 'I mean...I took some measures just in case, I'm sending it on snap so she can't save or look at it again..fuck-..it should be fine..right..?' his thoughts are jumbled but ultimately he- "fuck it." And he presses sent.

Now it's just a matter of waiting for you to check your phone, it's like the clock is ticking extra slowly and you're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You heard the ding so check the goddamn phone already- and then you picked up your phone, once you noticed it was your boyfriend who texted you, you glanced at him, a confused expression, he's sitting right next to you- so why would he- oh.

Almost immediately you duck your phone down under your desk, you don't want to share this sight with any eyes that aren't yours.

"..why now? Fuck- you look pretty..?" Your mumbling- he has you mumbling. That's a good thing right?

And- and you complimented him- that means you liked it right?

He's such a brat, sending you a photo of his back arched, his tongue sticking out as he was wearing a short skirt with thigh highs, you could catch a glimpse under it from the picture- in which you could tell he wasn't wearing anything.

Your boyfriend who loved baggy clothes and dark styles was wearing a pink flirry skirt!

Heats pooling in your pants as you glare at him,

He had a smug look on his face- looking oh so proud. Anyways- he thought you would wait and fuck him after class. But once he felt your hand creeping up his thigh his eyes widened in shock as he realized you had no plans to wait until after the lecture.

lyney

Agrees.

Well- he's definitely startled at your request, out of all things...this is what you desire most?

"mon amour- out of all things I- gulp didn't expect you to ask for n-...indecent photos." He's startled to say the least,

But he's not completely against the idea of it.

Your darling lyney is a magician, quick on his feet, he quite quickly puts that flustered face away to replace it for a rather cheeky one.

"Mon amour, I knew you missed me whenever I was busy practicing for my shows but to this extent! my-"

"forget it." His smug attitude is a turn off. At times.

Letting go of the idea you didn't really think he would go through with it anytime soon.

You don't expect anything unusual to happen today, like always you kiss lyney good luck for his show before heading to the audience to watch him perform from there.

Lyney's cheeky grin is noticed by you, but you just assume he's giddy for his show, heading into the audience to wait for your boyfriend,

you hear a ding. And as you open the message you drop your phone to the ground. It's a simple picture, it's of lyney, he sends you pictures of himself on the daily so what was so shocking about this one?

Well- for starters he's naked. Tied up with intricate red ropes, they look tight, especially around his thighs- wait. You recognize those ropes, they're the same ones he's gonna use for his performance today!-

And he does. Flaunting around those ropes in his performance, the same ones from the damn photos.

Lyney walks into his dressing room as usual- that is before he's pinned to the wall by none other than you.

"oh? Are you that excited to congratulate me on today's performance?" As your hand tightens around his wrist he starts to feel even more giddy

"what the fuck was that? " "Hm? Did you mind? It was a present." He's so smug.

"no- the ropes. You used the same ones from the performance didn't you- you cheeky fuck-"

"the ropes are over there, if you plan on doing something you should hurry, I have a fan meet n greet soon~" "oh I'll hurry alright."

You didn't hurry, for some reason unknown to his fans, the magician was unable to attend the meet n greet.

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bunny584 · 6 months

Text

A Girl with No Name

A/N: This one shot POURED out of me. All because of this incredible art by @chu-cho Thank you for creating this masterpiece. Hope I can do your art justice.

Ok, let me set the scene. Euphoria, SKINS, and Degrassi procreated in the basement of Kappa Alpha. Keg to the right. A designer tray of substances to the left. The boys in the middle. And you…you crack the whi— what? Who said that?

CW: Frat AU, implied substance use, mature 18+, MDNI

‘Ain’t a pill that I didn’t take’

Lyrics that feel too familiar tread water between Suguru’s ears. They glide along his skin. Which feels like silk, by the way.

Silk.

Who ever made that is a Nobel laureate.

‘Cause Imma sleep when I R.I.P.’

Euphoria.

Who chose the lights?

They’re vivid. Swarming. Like the walls are a tile dance floor. Yeah. Light picker deserves a Nobel too.

“You are so fucked right now.” His best friend’s sharp ass voice dices his lucid thoughts to smithereens.

“Shut up, Satoru.” He’s not wrong.

“We took the same shit.” Suguru perches on the solo cup ridden kitchen island. Sitting is good.

“Plus, I’m bigger than you.”

“If you wanna compare dicks just say so.” Satoru sneers, he’s cockier when inebriated.

In any other instance when Suguru is of sound mind, Satoru would’ve caught a jab to the chest. But two reasons why that can’t happen.

One, he’s currently tripping balls.

Two, you just walked in.

Like you own the house.

Maneuvering your body around the active pong table. Slipping past the chatty women gawking in their direction. Gearing for attack. Shifty and nervous, but the vodka cranberry is courage elixir.

The boys have about 45 seconds to engage with said women or divert.

But you are currently leaning over the counter reaching for a shot glass well out of your zip code. A little red dress on. All curves, no brakes. With an ass that could make anyone believe in God.

Sorry, girls. Tonight, they are going to divert.

Suguru catches Satoru’s heady gaze. No words needed. They share instincts. The boys have been in stride since the day they met.

They saunter over to the counter you’re mounting. An easy reach for them both.

“Didn’t realize your name was on the lease, princess.”

Satoru plucks the double shot glass down from Mount Everest. Handing it over between two fingers.

Still propped up on the counter with one knee, you peer down at them both. Letting the white noise of utter disinhibition drape the space between you.

Suguru planned on softening Satoru’s blow, but then you smile.

Cavalier and gorgeous.

Like it’s a golden ticket into spaces you don’t belong in.

The answer to questions people don’t realize need asking.

The cure for everything.

And right now? It is. The cure.

Suguru stands stupefied as you brace yourself on his shoulders. Thank God his hands still know what to do. They snake around your tapered waist and pull you to solid ground.

Speak, dumbass.

“You didn’t? It’s in the fine print.” Your voice beats him to it. And is fucking dessert.

Bad for you. Horrible for you. But good in the way self-indulgence is.

You take your shot glass (really, anything in the house is yours if you want it). And steer away to the refrigerator.

Your absence jumpstarts Suguru’s out-of-commission brain.

“Excuse him, he was raised by monkeys. Can I help you find something?”

Suguru and Satoru reposition themselves behind you while you rummage. Bent over at the waist. Head nearly submerged in the pull out freezer.

Are you doing this on purpose?

Are you trying to be a cocktease?

Satoru isn’t even attempting to stop eye-fucking you.

Suguru pulls his tongue ring in and out of his teeth. Anything to stop ruminating on the melody of sounds that’ll fill the room when his hips slam into your ass repeatedly.

“There it is,” you stand back to your full height. Triumphant. Jack Daniels in hand.

Your eyes are pools of quicksand. Why else would Suguru’s mouth feel more stuck than his feet?

“You’re a whiskey, kind of girl?” Satoru smirks, amused at your vice choice.

Again, the boys follow your movements like two expertly trained German Shepards. Flanking you when you settle at the corner of the island. Meticulously over-pouring your first double shot.

“I’m a good time kind of girl.” The way your slender neck tilts back is immoral. Throating the dark liquid like water.

…what else can that throat handle?

“Okay, good time girl wh—“

“Listen.” You snip Satoru’s snide remark at its base. Leaving both of them silent. Watching. Waiting.

“Brad,” you pointedly look at Suguru.

“And Chad,” eyes dagger into Satoru.

“Thank you for the warm welcome but I’m not interested in talking.”

The back of your hand swipes against your full lips. And Suguru can’t seem to pull his eyes off of them.

Satoru, after a moment of stunned silence, lets out his laugh. The one that means you’ve won his undivided attention for the night.

“Close, but no cigar baby. Try again.” Satoru leans onto his forearms. Tilting his intoxicated gaze up at you.

“Right idea, though.” Suguru chimes in. Tongue finally deciding to work.

“Ahh, I hear you loud and clear.” You retort, golden-ticket smile back on your face.

Your nose wrinkles in feigned concentration and Suguru nearly passes out.

Are you really this hot? Or is he just that blasted?

“Preppy,” your hand cups Satoru’s face. And his Adam’s Apple bobs deeply.

Good, Satoru is feeling this as hard as he is.

“And Edgy.” Suguru gawks at the way your lips hang open after your snarky guess at his name leaves your mouth.

Satoru’s wolfish chuckle is what re-tethers Suguru to this dimension. How the fuck is he keeping up with you right now?

“No, no. I got it.” You pipe up.

Placing one hand over each of theirs. Suguru greedily intertwines his long fingers between your petite ones.

“Thunder.” You squeeze Suguru’s hand and his soul nearly leaks out of his dick.

“And Lightening.”

Cotton candy dusts Satoru’s nose to his ears when you look up at him. Suguru can see the vulgar scenarios on cinematic repeat in his best friend’s mind.

And it’s tame compared to the ways Suguru wants to disrespect you.

“We can work with that.” Suguru flashes a smile of his own. Purposefully keeping his tongue ring out of your view.

“And what can we call you?” Satoru probes. Zeroed in because no one else in the room exists.

Your hands return back to your side, and Suguru misses your warmth immediately.

“No name.”

Flippant. Lighthearted like what you said was normal.

“What was that?” Satoru spurts out. Saliva bubbling in his half open mouth.

You glide away from the kitchen. Into the den with bodies colliding. Walls thrumming. Lights strobing.

Delicate hands cup around your mouth. Turning back to face your new guard dogs.

“Not here to talk, boys!”

The three of you are interwined at the center of the crowded room in seconds.

But time is warped.

Because Suguru is traversing Death Zone altitude on the mountain. And Satoru is swimming at Abyssal Zone depth in the ocean.

You are the 8th cardinal sin.

You writhe and undulate your curves in and out of their grasp. Gripping onto Satoru’s neck, strumming his undercut when he’s facing you. Winding your hips against Suguru’s crotch when he’s behind you.

Suguru’s cock has never been this hard, he’s half worried it could snap in half. Hissing against your neck. Groaning behind your ear. So goddamn grateful for the music drowning out his desperation.

But his skin is on fire. He can feel every vessel pulsate.

You are not a want.

You are a need.

“Need you.” Suguru gruffs in your ear. Flickering up to Satoru, who is mirroring his hooded gaze.

Suguru watches your pretty hand trail down Satoru’s chest. Satoru rolls his bottom lip under his teeth. Apt nickname you chose for him, because there are lightening bolts in his eyes.

“Take me upstairs,” you whisper back, tilting up to capture Suguru in your web.

And he is so captured. So entangled.

The boys lead you to Suguru’s bedroom in the frat house. Even though the walk felt like miles, exactly no time passes when you three close the door behind you.

Suguru’s lips magnet to yours. Insatiable in the way he sucks and pulls on your lips. Tongue tasting every corner of your sweet mouth.

Satoru drops his head to the crook of your neck. Sucking bruises. Tracing his large grasp up and underneath your dress. No time or room for manners with how his cock is tenting against its weak restraints.

“So eager, boys.” You giggle in between their hungry kisses.

And you’re right.

It’s embarrassing, their display right now.

But neither one of them have the capacity to stop.

And hold it together.

And lead. Like they both are used to.

“Sorry,” Satoru grunts into the feminine slope of your neck. You let out an airy laugh when he starts to dry hump you. Tickling both of their incapable brains.

You know Satoru is so far gone.

And Suguru is trying to hold on to some semblance of dignity but his cock simply won’t let him. Not the way it’s drenching his sweats with need.

“Take these off.” Melodic instructions fill Satoru and Suguru’s ears the minute you pull away from Suguru’s kiss. Your index finger hooked on both hems.

As if your voice is a Pavlovian trigger, the boys step out of their pants and boxers.

Rock hard. Desperate. Leaking.

Your personal drones.

Suguru can’t swallow the whimper that collides with Satoru’s whine when your hands drop to stroke both of them at the same time. Flickering your eyes between your two toys. Proud of the way their cocks are twitching and pumping beads of precum into your hands.

“God, pretty girl.”

“Fuck, princess.”

Satoru and Suguru are dizzy with heat.

Just in time for you to drop to your knees. Dragging your closed, lipsticked lips along Suguru’s up curve.

“Please,” Suguru whispers.

You’re evil.

And you ignore him. Dragging your soft, warm hand up the length of his shaft. Interjecting butterfly kisses in between. Working Satoru’s length in your other hand. Drawing punched out moans from the boys. Chests heaving. Clipped breaths. Pitiful.

“On your knees, Lightning.” You beckon Satoru, while teasing his counterpart.

Satoru doesn’t hesitate for a second. He couldn’t if he wanted to. Propped on his knees, he stares into the side of your face. Awaiting further instruction.

“Kiss me,” you demand, circling your lips around Suguru’s sensitive tip for the first time. Evoking a loud hiss.

Satoru’s eyes widen. Your words startle the breath out of him.

The lights are dim but Suguru doesn’t miss the blossoming cherry red flush. Spreading along his toned shoulders.

Your wet lips dragging along his swollen cockhead pulls Suguru’s eyes away from his celestial best friend.

“Mmmgh f..fuck baby,” Suguru chokes out at your slow, mean ministrations.

“Don’t be shy, Lightening.” Your tongue tickles his lead pipe with every spoken word around his girth.

Suguru’s eyes fall to your hand. Now working its way up Satoru’s length. His core involuntarily curls into your sudden touch. Gossamer thin whine tumbling out of his lips. Suguru catches the way Satoru digs his fingernails into his milky skin.

And his cock twitches against your lips at the sight.

“Kiss me,” You beckon Satoru again, dragging your tongue up Suguru’s length.

“I—I…“ Satoru stammers. Hips stuttering against your fist. Static fills Suguru’s head.

He’s never seen him this docile. This pliant. It’s a mind fuck.

No, no.

The way Satoru pulls his eyes up to meet his gaze in that moment is a mind fuck.

Is he hallucinating?

It’s like Suguru is seeing Satoru for the first time.

Instead of being side by side, he’s across the street. Catching a glimpse of a God. Walking amongst men.

Satoru’s expression has earned permanence in his brain. Snowy halo of hair. Long, palatial lashes fanning the Aegean Sea in his eyes. A mosaic of lust, desire, a little shame.

Seeking permission.

Seeking approval.

He is otherworldly.

Vulnerable and soft. On his knees. Needy. It makes Suguru want to ram his cock past those pouty, swollen lips.

But..but that’s wrong. Right?

They’re best friends. Fucking soulmates. They don’t..they don’t do that.

But the way he’s pouting.

God.

Glassy eyed and helplessly turned on. Rutting his hips into your hand.

Fuck.

“Fuck,” Suguru mutters. A surge of his arousal landing on your tongue. Eliciting a breathy giggle in response.

Followed by an out of body experience for the next few minutes.

Suguru’s hand wires into Satoru’s cloud soft locks. Gentle grasp between the slender webspaces.

“So pretty.” He rasps through the nails in his throat.

Satoru’s pupils blow out at the praise. All but purring into his touch. Suguru barely applies any force and Satoru crashes his lips onto yours with Suguru’s thick head in between.

Filthy.

Nasty dirty vulgar sounds fill the room. Suguru’s constant stream of precum dripping onto your tongue, Satoru’s tongue. Raining down on your puffy, full tits.

You two exploring each other’s lips.

Satoru’s angry length, squelching against your hand.

It’s too much. It’s too fucking much.

“Such a good boy.”

Your dulcet voice is a tornado decimating Suguru’s brain. He has to blink a few times to realize that the praise wasn’t meant for him.

It was directed at Satoru.

Who is desperately — eagerly — throating Suguru’s dick. Nose flaring. Diamond tears rolling down his blushing cheeks. Unintelligible garbles dribbling out the corners of his mouth.

“Sa—Satoru, mmgh, god shit, shit.” Suguru’s hips take a cruel pace down his Person’s throat.

“Mmm, Satoru.” You murmur into his ear. Tasting your new discovery.

“Look how much Thunder likes fucking that mouth of yours.”

Satoru’s tears splash against Suguru’s sex. But he opens his throat anyway. Swallowing his rod. Filthy bulge in the column of his throat.

“Ahh, god..baby..” Suguru huffs when your devilish little hands tug at a palm full of his hair.

When did you get next to him?

Doesn’t matter.

Yet another natural disaster destroys Suguru’s brain when you push your tongue back into his mouth. While he violates Satoru’s mouth.

The wire in Suguru’s stomach coils. Lava surges through every vessel in his body. Groin welling with a deep, carnal pressure. Everything feels too fucking good.

“Fuck, oh god fuck. I’m I—g—“

“Cum for me, baby.”

You kiss your hushed command into Suguru’s mouth. His hips come to a screeching halt. Both hands down in Satoru’s hair, grazing along his undercut.

Suguru tilts his chin to the ceiling. Thick loose mane tickling his mid back. Vision completely dark. He has no idea if he’s still in Satoru’s mouth. Or where his cum is landing. All he knows is death by pleasure right now.

You press your moist lips into Suguru’s neck.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” Sweet words reverberate against Suguru’s skin.

His head slowly comes back to earth. And just as his eyes pull back open — a shudder and blinding light assaults his vision. Up close.

“Woah, what the hell?”

Suguru is met with a Polaroid camera. Printing evidence of his nirvana. His brows crawl together defensively.

“What do you—“

“Relax, thunder.” You coo with that smile that’s decadent, beautiful poison.

You step over a dazed Satoru. Still on his knees. Lazily stroking up his neglected hard cock.

Suguru’s eyes track you to his bed. You place the developing film on the nightstand.

“These are for your eyes only.”

“I don’t mind.” Satoru huffs. Rising to his feet. Deep within your trance. You could’ve asked him to cut off an arm and he’d offer you both.

Satoru would follow you into Hell if you demanded it.

Suguru would too.

“Boys, come.” You curl your finger at them. And pairs of feet move.

“Thunder, why don’t you put that tongue ring to good use. While I take care of pretty little Satoru.”

His name on your lips snaps something buried in his soul. Satoru steps to the head of the bed. Leaning against the wall. Cock heavy with his seed. A string of arousal hanging low from his tip.

You make a dramatic show to catch Satoru’s leaking string of cum before it wastes on Suguru’s sheets.

“You’re fucking filthy, princess.” Satoru hisses. He can’t remember the last time he’s blinked the whole night.

You smile around his bulbous tip, then pull him into your warm heat in one go.

And fuck, Satoru can feel you sucking through to his throat.

His whimpers sound so pathetic in his ears. But he is so lust-drunk he couldn’t care less.

One look down and he sees his best friend whining underneath your precious cunt. As you circle your hips around Suguru’s metal-clad tongue. Taking your pleasure directly from his mouth.

Suguru’s half hard sex pulsates against his perfectly toned abs. Satoru has to look away. His orgasm threatening to come too soon.

“Mmmnggh, so good with your tongue, Thunder.” You gurgle around Satoru’s length.

Arousal flavored saliva driveling down your chin. The sensation drives Satoru to piston his hips until his tip abuses the limit of your dainty throat.

You shouldn’t have any space to breathe, much less talk.

“Pl-please. Suguru. Name’s Suguru.”

“Say his name baby.” Satoru’s order is low. Raptorial. Hips bucking wildly into your mouth. Heat crashing into his groin.

He’s so close. He’s—

“S-Suguru.”

And Satoru dives off your cliff edge. Hearing his Person’s name tumble out of your mouth and around his cock snapped his self-control in half.

Ropes off thick, warm heat spill out the side of your mouth. Staining your bunched up dress, the sheets and everything in between.

“S-so close,” you huff, humping Suguru’s tongue more aggressively.

A familiar camera shudder and solar bright light fans your outstretched neck. Capturing your cum-stained ascension.

You flash Satoru a knowing smirk. Another beam of light aimed in his face before he tosses your camera off to the side.

Satoru crashes his lips into yours. Eager to taste himself off your mouth.

Your bodies move in perfect tandem. Satoru kisses your peak from your lips while Suguru coaxes your wet orgasm onto his tongue. Your high drenches Suguru and the sheets around him.

The three of you piece yourselves together. Completely plaited within each other’s warm, moist limbs. Basking in the serotonin showers misting you three in post-coital bliss.

No one remembers, but you wish each other sweet dreams before the fog settles. And the night re-claims you to sleep.

——

Sunlight is downright offensive.

Suguru forces his heavy lids open.

7: 43 AM

Fucking, hell.

A freight train is currently doing laps in Suguru’s mind. He flickers around the room. Haphazard clothes. Strewn socks. Satoru in Suguru’s 06 hockey jersey. Long limbs nearly dangling off the other side of his bed.

Suguru glances down, somehow dressed only in Satoru’s black sweats

There’s a tiny sliver of space between their sodden bodies. Where you must’ve slept.

Right.

You.

Heaven’s fallen angel.

You used to be God’s favorite. No way you still are.

Not with how fucking sinful you looked in that red dress.

Snapping polaroids.

Taking their souls for play.

Then having the audacity to leave them on the nightstand when you were through.

Suguru met The Devil last night.

And she was…exquisite.

“Fuck, my head.” Satoru groans, rolling over to face his dark-haired soulmate.

Suguru watches his eyes flutter open. And something within him catches.

How has he not noticed how beautiful this boy is before?

“Here,” A glass of ice water, still sweating from condensation is waiting on Suguru’s nightstand. He takes a long sip before passing the lifeblood to Satoru.

Satoru briefly meets Suguru’s gaze. Before averting, pretty mulberry blush flooding his face.

“Was last night…real?” Satoru asks after an extended sip.

Suguru meets his question with silence. Preoccupied with picture proof.

Three polaroids neatly arranged on the nightstand.

The first one is of Suguru. Hair moused, framing his intoxicated gaze. Remnants of his orgasm oozing from the still shot. Lips puffy and abused. Cheeks flushed. Suguru can barely recognize the man in the photo.

His eyes dance to the cursive label at the bottom:

Thunder

Alias: “Suguru”

A wry chuckle escapes his lips. He passes his photo to Satoru.

The next polaroid is of his Person. Post orgasm haze heavy in his eyes. He managed to get his 10,000-kilowatt smile perfectly in the selfie. Also flushed. Also completely debauched. The blue in his eyes reflected nearly translucent.

He’s a fucking masterpiece, that boy.

Suguru knows what to expect at the bottom of Satoru’s polaroid:

Lightening

Alias: “Satoru”

“Shit man, these are amazing.” Satoru murmurs, intently studying Suguru’s polaroid. Absentmindedly accepting his.

“They are.” Suguru agrees, unknowingly holding his breath while pulling your polaroid into view.

And of course.

It’s blurry.

The only thing in focus is your graceful, arched neck, specks of Satoru’s finish glistening on your skin. Merlot red dress, pulled far below your breasts. Only thing pictured is the apex of your cleavage. Leaving Suguru’s mind to spiral into lucid memory of the rest of your silhouette.

“Who…was that?” Satoru muses. Eyes now on the ceiling. Undoubtedly having the exact same swarm of flashbacks flood his mind.

Suguru rolls your Polaroid between his index and long finger. The bottom of the photo reading:

No Name

A lazy smile tugs on the corner of his lips.

You are something else.

Supernatural, almost.

“She’s a girl with no name.”

2K notes · View notes

smileysuh · 11 months

Text

send in the clowns

🌙 staring. Hyuck & Mark & Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “She’s not the reason we’re dressed as clowns,” Hyuck is quick to insist. He’s such a good liar. Jungwoo would almost believe it, if you hadn’t told him your Halloween clown plan. It’s no secret to you that your three frat friends all have crushes on you, so you’d decided to tell Jaehyun about wanting to fuck a clown, just to see who would actually follow through with the costume. You’d expected one, maybe two- but here are all three men, dressed as exactly what they are: clowns. And it’s obvious to Jungwoo that they think this is their own idea. As if you’re not the puppeteer behind this all. God, Jungwoo loves having you as a best friend, even if your bucket list includes a frat clown Halloween orgy with three of his best friends.

tw/cw. clown kink? orgy, foursome, unprotected sex, semi-inexperienced reader, oral, blow jobs, pussy eating, cum eating, squirting, fingering, masturbation, guided masturbation, spanking, choking, spit-roasting/Eiffel tower, cum/filling kink, praise, dirty talk, first time anal, cock warming, double penetration, triple penetration, multiple reader orgasms, dacryphilia, overstimulation, deep throating, face grinding, etc… I pet names: (hers) barbie, babe, baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 10.6k

🍭 aus. Halloween, frat au, friends to lovers, Joker!Jae, Buggy!Mark, Pennywise!Hyuck, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I'm not sure I can even explain this one tbh

1: Mark

Mark loves drunk karaoke nights. He loves the way the alcohol calms him down, making his skin tingle and his lids feel heavy. He loves how easy it is to smile and laugh while his friends make fools of themselves. He loves watching Hyuck and Jungwoo be silly goofy chaos demons, choosing duets and ballads that make them sink to their knees and belt out songs so loud that they get noise complaints from other frat boys walking by their room. But most of all, Mark loves watching you sing, watching your hips sway to the music as you lose yourself in the energy.

It has taken a year of being friends with you before you opened up and started really relaxing with Mark and his frat brothers. Mark has enjoyed every moment of watching you bloom into the flower you are now. He’d thought you were cute when you first met, but these days, he thinks you’re one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever had the pleasure of getting to know.

He feels downright lucky, sitting on his bed, a beer in his hand, watching you stumble your way through a rap verse. Karaoke is never about being good at singing, although, Hyuck does often get a one-hundred-point score and boasts about it by running down the halls declaring himself the best singer in the frat.

No, drunk karaoke is simply about friendship. It’s about the way Mark feels able to be truly himself when he’s with you, his roommate Hyuck, and his two other frat brothers Jaehyun and Jungwoo. You’re a fivesome Mark had never expected to feel so at home with, but now, he couldn’t imagine anything else.

It’s getting late, and your energy is rapidly deteriorating, especially as you finish up your song and collapse next to Mark on his bed. He knows you well enough to see that when Hyuck and Jungwoo complete their next duet, you’ll be heading back to your apartment across campus.

Mark does his best to appreciate the time he has left with you, scooting closer so your thighs are just touching. He offers you his beer but you shake your head, still trying to catch your breath from the excitement of getting a score of ninety-eight.

In the confines of Hyuck and Mark’s small room, the two most extroverted of the fivesome pour their hearts out into ‘Greased Lightning,’ complete with flamboyant choreography and more giggling than Mark’s tired abdomen can even handle.

Even Jaehyun is laughing, standing by the window with a joint. His cheeks are flushed red, ears matching, and Mark swears he’s never seen Jaehyun as free as he is during nights like this.

As the song finishes up, you let out a deep sigh, standing. “I should really be headed home.”

Mark rises to his feet, pulling you into a hug that never lasts long enough. “Thanks for coming,” he murmurs, offering you a small smile as he does his best to conceal just how much he enjoys your company.

“You guys know I never miss karaoke night,” you grin, sending him a wink before you head over to hug Jaehyun.

Mark watches the way his hyung’s eyes close as he holds you, his embrace lingering around your smaller form.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Jae,” you nod, pulling away before your gaze shifts to Hyuck. “And I’ll see you and Mark at the Halloween party tomorrow night.”

“Not if we see you first,” Hyuck teases, pulling you into a hug that looks a little too tight for Mark’s liking.

“God, you’re such clowns,” you laugh, pushing at Hyuck’s shoulders to prompt him to release you.

“Is that a song request?” Mark’s roommate asks, jumping on the chance to sing another. “I would crush Sinatra’s ‘Send In The Clowns.’”

You simply roll your eyes, going to join Jungwoo at the door. “Goodnight, guys.”

Jungwoo has been your longest-standing friend since first year. He’s the one who introduced you to Mark, Hyuck and Jaehyun. He’s probably the only person in the room who doesn’t want to fuck you, and he’s the one you always walk home with- leaving the frats at night can be dangerous for a pretty girl like you, and your six-foot golden retriever bestie always insists on making sure you get back to your apartment safe.

With one last goodbye, you leave, and there’s a noticeable shift in the energy of the room. All three men let out small sighs, and Jaehyun turns to the window, clearly intent on watching you walk away.

Hyuck, meanwhile, collapses onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. “She’s great.”

“She is,” Mark agrees, sipping his beer.

“You know, I’ve got a great idea,” Hyuck says dreamily.

“Let's hear it,” Jaehyun sighs, biting the bait while still looking out the window.

“I’m thinking- now don’t immediately shut this down, but I’m definitely thinking Halloween orgy.”

Mark chokes on his beer, sputtering and trying to clear his throat.

“Jesus, Mark, don’t die-” Hyuck sits up, staring at him while Jaehyun simply shakes his head with a smile. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, but why are you serious?” Mark asks, swallowing thickly. “Why do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Not just a good idea, a great one,” Hyuck smirks. “Listen, we’ve all been into her for ages, and what's the one thing stopping us from making a move? Each other.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s the only thing stopping us,” Jaehyun muses.

“She wants us,” Hyuck states.

“She does?” This is news to Mark.

“A hundred percent… like my karaoke score. I’m sure of it.” Hyuck nods to himself. “It’s in the body language.”

Jaehyun turns away from the window to asses Hyuck, crossing his arms over his chest. “What body language?”

“Just trust me.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “No.”

“Your loss, don’t join the orgy, Mark and I will show her a good time,” Hyuck’s eyes shift to the Canadian, “Won’t we, Mark?”

Mark’s throat goes dry. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this scenario. As roommates and best friends, he and Hyuck have shared girls before- this wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary…

“I mean…” Mark sighs.

“You’re both crazy,” Jaehyun insists.

Hyuck scoffs loudly. “As if you don’t want to join!”

“I’m not saying I don’t, I’m just pointing out that there are multiple reasons none of us have taken a shot at her.” Mark appreciates Jaehyun’s level-headed thinking, it’s a sharp contrast to Hyuck’s chaos. The Hyung in the room is good at voicing what Mark isn’t able to. “If she’s not interested, you’ll ruin karaoke night. You’ll ruin the friendship. If she is interested, who’s to say she wants all of us? Most girls are monogamous- who’s to say she’d even want to be part of an orgy with three guys? Who’s to say we could all actually handle sharing, given who she is to us? Hyuck, can you honestly say you wouldn’t get jealous watching her suck Mark off?”

“Not if I was balls deep in her pussy,” Hyuck grins.

Jaehyun only sighs, rolling his eyes and shifting his attention out the window again. “This is a bad idea.”

2 : Jae

The only class Jaehyun arrives early to is the one he shares with you. He can’t help the feeling that rushes through him as he takes the amphitheater-style stairs two at a time, joining you in your seats at the back of the massive class.

“Hey you,” you grin, already turning in your seat to smile at him.

“Hey.” He puts his bag down, also angling to look at you. “How’s it going?”

“Going good,” you nod, taking in his onesie. It’s Halloween, so you’d both agreed to come in Pokemon outfits, and Jaehyun feels a lot more comfortable than a few other students in more restrictive costume attire. “You look good as Charmander.”

“Thanks, Pikachu.” God, he likes you way too much. Sometimes it’s hard to tear his gaze away from you, hard to make conversation instead of just staring at your lips. “You know, I’m a little surprised you actually came as a Pokemon.”

“What?” You cock your head to the side. “Why? We promised we would!”

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun shrugs. “I know you have that thing about clowns, guess I thought maybe you’d come as one today.”

“My thing about clowns,” you laugh, “says the clown.” You reach over, squishing his cheek, and it makes Jaehyun grin so hard it almost hurts.

“Tell me I’m wrong!”

You sigh. “Okay, you’re not. I like clowns a weird amount. But everyone has their kinks right?”

“I’ve always wondered what you like about clowns.”

You stare at him and Jaehyun leans back in his seat. He waits for you to elaborate, reaching up to play with the rim of his baseball cap.

“Honestly?” You swallow thickly. “I don’t know, there’s just something about the smile makeup maybe? The crazy aspect? I just feel like, when people dress up as clowns, it’s about having a good time. They can’t judge you because they’re the clown- it’s kind of freeing, a nice freeing energy, if that makes any sense.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Jaehyun admits.

“Can I be extra honest with you about something?” you ask, scooting your chair closer and lowering your voice.

“Of course.” Jaehyun also moves closer, his knee butting against yours. You look so pretty, especially up close. There’s no way the Pikachu onesie should be hot, but you’ve gotten the buttons undone just enough that he can take a peek down at your bra at this short distance, and it makes him swallow thickly, trying to get a hold of himself.

“I’m this close,” you hold up two fingers almost touching, “to fucking anyone dressed as a clown at the frat party tonight.”

Jaehyun’s heart lurches abruptly in his chest. His mouth goes dry and his palms feel sweaty. He can only blink at you for a moment before he’s able to find his voice again. “R-really?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, looking absolutely determined.

“Anyone?”

“Anyone.”

“Fuck,” Jaehyun whispers, forcing his gaze forward. He has no idea how to play this situation- no idea how to act nonchalant about this. Jaehyun prides himself in being good in any situation, his technique is staying calm through breathing, but he can hardly take a breath right now.

“Do you know anyone planning on dressing as a clown?” you ask.

“Uh…” he licks his lips, mind still reeling. “Maybe a couple of the guys.”

It’s a lie, and he feels bad saying it… but at the same time, he doesn’t want to shut the door on this opportunity. He knows at least two men who would dress as a clown at the drop of the hat upon hearing this information- and Jaehyun is quick to wonder if he could somehow go to the party as a clown without it being glaringly obvious that he wants to fuck you stupid.

“What did you say you’re going as again?”

Jaehyun can hardly look at you. “I uh… hadn’t really decided yet.”

“Okay, Mister Secrets,” you tease. “Don’t tell me, I’ll find out tonight.”

The teacher enters the class, and Jaehyun shifts in his chair, trying to focus.

It’s impossible to get what you’ve just said out of his head. In the corners of his mind, Jaehyun almost feels like it had been a challenge. He thinks about what Hyuck had said, about your body language- had this been you dropping a hint?

Do you want him to fuck you?

3 : Hyuck

“Excuse me,” Ten’s voice makes Hyuck freeze, “what, exactly, are you doing?”

Hyuck and Mark slowly turn toward the angry frat boy standing at the door of his room. Ten looks pissed- and he has every right to be.

Hyuck can see Mark open his mouth in the periphery of his vision, and it causes him to grab his friend's arm to silence him. “There you are!” Hyuck exclaims. “We were looking all over for you!”

Ten’s not convinced, and he raises a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your charm doesn’t work on me, Haechan. What are you two doing with my makeup?”

“Oh, this?” Hyuck looks down at the eye shadow pallet in his hands. “Funny story actually-”

Ten scoffs loudly. “Spit it out.”

“We need to borrow some makeup,” Mark states. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

“You know, out of all the guys who could be stealing my eye shadow set, I never expected it to be you two losers.”

“We’ve got a very good explanation for this-” Hyuck begins, only for Mark to cut him off.

“We’re trying to be clowns for Halloween.”

“As if you need any makeup for that, you’re both already clowns,” Ten sasses. “Besides, I thought you guys were going to the party as superheroes or something.”

“We changed our minds,” Hyuck says simply.

“As if,” another eye roll from Ten. “What’s the real reason?”

“Well, y/n has this thing for clowns-” Mark mumbles.

“I should have known this was about y/n,” Ten sighs. “But wait, you’re both going to dress up as clowns and try to what? Fuck her on Halloween?”

“Well, Jae said that y/n said she’d fuck someone dressed as a clown tonight-”

Hyuck groans. Mark needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.

“So we’re talking about a full-on clown orgy?” Ten asks, and shockingly enough, as disgusted as he looks, he also seems almost impressed. “You two, Jae and y/n?”

“Jae might not join,” Hyuck is quick to point out, and in the corners of his mind, he sort of hopes he doesn’t. It will be annoying enough as it is vying with Mark for your attention, let alone Jaehyun too.

“Jae will a hundred percent be joining,” Ten sighs. “If you can convince her, that is.”

“What makes you so sure?” Mark asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Have you seen the way that guy looks at her? He’s whipped. But I guess all three of you look at her that way, maybe you don’t notice your friends doing the same thing.” Ten approaches them, taking the eyeshadow pallet from Hyuck. “I’ll help you with clown makeup. If you’re going to do this, you’ll have to do it right.”

“Really?” Mark beams. “Thank you!”

“You run and get Jaehyun, and I’ll start on Hyuck,” Ten says, looking his target up and down. “We’ll also have to decide which clowns you three are going as.”

“Can’t we just be generic clowns?” Hyuck asks, allowing Ten to lead him to sit on the bed.

The man from Thailand scoffs. “As if a ten out of ten like y/n is going to fuck just any clown, you three have to be recognizable.”

“Who do you have in mind?”

Ten grins slyly, reaching for his makeup kit. “I can think of a few clowns that girls wanna bang.”

4 : Jungwoo

“Hey Ten, I’m here for my…” Jungwoo pauses in the doorway, the word “glitter” leaving his lips as an afterthought while he stares at the scene in front of him.

Jaehyun is leaning by the window, a joint between his fingers. His purple outfit is jokeresque, but it’s his makeup that makes it clear who he is. With a white face, a jagged red overdrawn smile and dark eyes, he looks as stunning as Heath Ledger did in the role, but prettier, which isn’t that much of a shock considering this is Jaehyun.

Hyuck, meanwhile, is in a white shirt and jeans, his face done up in a matching cream shade. His nose and smile are red, with the colour on his lips curving up as slits through his eyes. His hair isn’t orange, just its normal shade of brown, but he’s a dead ringer for Pennywise, even without a good costume.

Mark, meanwhile, is sitting on the bed. He’s not a clown that Jungwoo recognizes, especially not as Ten combs blue temporary dye through his bleach blonde hair. There’s something like white crossbones across his forehead, and he has the messiest red patch around his mouth, with blue slashes through his eyebrows and eyelids-

“Who is Mark supposed to be?” Jungwoo can’t help but ask, staring at his friend in confusion.

“I told you no one would know who I am!” Mark groans loudly, looking up at Ten.

“Do any of you even watch anime?” Ten sighs. “He’s Buggy The Clown from One Piece, there’s even a live-action of it on Netflix that came out two months ago- I swear, do you all live under a rock? I promise, if y/n actually likes clowns, she’ll know who Mark is.”

Ten’s words make Jungwoo realize what’s happening, and he lets out a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest while he stares at his karaoke friends. “So that’s what this is about.”

“She’s not the reason we’re dressed as clowns,” Hyuck is quick to insist.

He’s such a good liar. Jungwoo would almost believe it, if you hadn’t told him your Halloween clown plan. It’s no secret to you that your three frat friends all have crushes on you, so you’d decided to tell Jaehyun about wanting to fuck a clown, just to see who would actually follow through with the costume. You’d expected one, maybe two- but here are all three men, dressed as exactly what they are: clowns.

And it’s obvious to Jungwoo that they think this is their own idea. As if you’re not the puppeteer behind this all. God, Jungwoo loves having you as a best friend, even if your bucket list includes a frat clown Halloween orgy with three of his best friends.

5 : Barbie

The first words that Jungwoo says to you when he meets you outside the frat are, “You’re going to die.”

“What do you mean?” you laugh, linking your arm with his as he helps you up the house steps, being mindful of your sparkly heels.

“Just wait till you see, I don’t want to spoil it for you,” your best friend grins.

“Did one of our boys dress up as a clown?” you ask, skin tingling at the prospect.

“Something like that.”

“Two?” Your heart is already beginning to thunder in your ribcage.

“I told you, I’m not telling!” The two of you enter the large frat living room and makeshift dance floor. Your eyes immediately scan the location, looking for clowns.

At first, you almost miss Mark, but as your gaze narrows in on the blue hair you realize your first clown is none other than your favorite Canadian. “That’s Mark?” you ask in shock, looking him up and down from twenty feet away.

“Yeah, he’s supposed to be Muggy or something-”

“Buggy,” you correct.

“At least you know what the fuck his costume is,” Jungwoo sighs.

“That’s such an odd choice for him- I didn’t know any of you even watched One Piece.”

“Ten suggested it I think,” Jungwoo admits.

“That’s why he looks so good!”

“I mean…” your best friend gives you some major side eye, “if you’re into that sort of thing.”

Then you notice who’s standing next to Mark. his back had been to you, but as he turns and scans the crowd, you catch Pennywise makeup and you practically shiver at the realization that it’s Hyuck.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, clinging to Jungwoo even tighter. “I got roommates.”

“You’re so weird,” Jungwoo laughs. “Wait, I uh… think someone wants to talk to you.” Your friend is looking over your shoulder, and when you turn, you find Jaehyun standing there.

He looks as awkward as you’ve ever seen him, decked out as The Joker.

You can’t believe it.

You’re three for three.

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “You look good.”

He’s scanning your Barbie costume, and you notice the way he tries to skip over your breasts… and fails.

“You look good too,” you grin, already feeling a little overwhelmed with how many clowns are at the party.

“I mean…” Jaehyun swallows thickly, “You said you like clowns-”

“I said more than that,” you tease.

“Okay, I’m getting a drink,” Jungwoo announces, unlinking your arms. “Have fun.”

“Don’t worry, I intend to,” you grin, watching him dart away before you turn your attention back to Jaehyun. You open your mouth, intent on flirting- on getting down to the business at hand, but before you can, someone grabs your forearm and you find Hyuck standing there.

He looks out of breath, and you realize he must have just run through the crowd to get to you, with Mark still trailing behind him by a few feet.

“You’re here!” Hyuck smirks. When he looks you up and down, he doesn’t bother hiding his attraction to you. “Nice dress.”

“Nice makeup,” you laugh, feeling like a kid in a candy store.

“Well, we all know you’re a sucker for clowns.” It feels like a perfectly harmless statement, but by the way Hyuck’s smile widens, you can see the innuendo behind his words and it makes your stomach tie into knots. “Come on, Barbie,” his hand slips from your forearm to your wrist, and he tugs gently, “dance with us.”

Your gaze shifts back at Jaehyun, he looks like he wants to say something- but you find yourself being dragged into the crowd.

Hyuck positions himself behind you, and Mark slots in front, hands finding your hips to steady you amongst the moving sea of bodies. “Hi,” he says, leaning in so you can hear him over the music.

“Hi, Buggy,” you grin, taking in the details of his makeup. Ten really did a number on him- you’ll have to thank him some time for making your dreams come true.

“Thank God you know who I am,” Mark laughs, relief flooding his clowny features.

Hyuck presses his body against your back, hands slipping around your waist- his breath on the nape of your neck cuts off any words you’d planned on saying to Mark, and it must be clear, because he leans in again, “Is this okay?”

You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah, I think- I think I’m just surprised.”

“Why are you surprised?” Hyuck asks, his voice hoarse as you rub your ass back against him.

“I mean- when I told Jaehyun I wanted to fuck a clown tonight, I expected one of you, maybe two, but not all three,” you admit.

“You can take all of us,” Hyuck says smoothly.

“If you want to,” Mark corrects.

“Do you all want to?” you ask. “You’re not going to make me choose?”

“Mark and I are used to sharing,” Hyuck informs you. “I’m not sure about Jae.”

All three of you turn to look at the joker still standing off the dance floor, his gaze is fixed on you- God, it feels good to be pressed between Mark and Hyuck while Jaehyun watches.

“How long…” Mark leans close again, and his lips brush over your ear, “How long have you known we’re all into you.”

“You’re not great at hiding it, Mark,” you laugh.

“And you really don’t have a favorite?” he asks, pulling away to look you deep in your eyes.

“Do I seem like I have a favorite?” you counter.

“It’s obviously me,” Hyuck says loudly, pulling you back even tighter. “I’m everyone’s favourite.”

Mark ignores Hyuck, his gaze dipping down to your lips then back up. Even in a sea of bodies, with Hyuck rubbing against your ass, something about being pressed to Mark’s chest while he stares at you like this feels intimate. He’s so pretty, especially with the clown makeup and the blue hair- it gives him this dangerous edge, but below the layers of red, white and blue, this is still Mark, one of the softest men you’ve ever met.

You can’t help yourself, you lean forward, reaching for Mark’s shoulders-

He practically smashes his mouth against yours, and you realize how eager he is by the way his tongue immediately swipes a lick at your lower lip. His fingers dig into your hips, tugging you closer and away from Hyuck-

A second mouth finds your skin, with Hyuck groaning against your throat. The sensation makes a shiver run through you, and you part your lips for Mark, who dips his tongue inside.

You truly can’t believe your luck tonight. As you cling tighter to Mark, enjoying Hyuck’s rough hands on your body, you almost forget about Jaehyun- but as soon as he pops in your mind, you pull away from the roommates, turning to look for your Joker.

He’s no longer standing by the dance floor, he’s walking away, and your heart lurches in your chest.

“Jae-” you say, tugging away from Mark and Hyuck to chase after your favorite classmate. If you’re being really honest with yourself- you’d told Jae about wanting to fuck a clown because out of all three, he’s the one you could see yourself really going the distance with.

Jaehyun has two years on Mark, and three on Hyuck- he’s the most mature of the three karaoke fratboys you’ve been thirsting over. There’s something about him that’s always made you feel calm- in contrast to the chaos Hyuck brings, and the warm fuzzies Mark gives you.

You like them all in different ways, you suppose, and you can’t stand the idea of losing even one of them from your hook tonight.

“Jae!” you call again, louder this time as you follow him- catching up just as he makes it to the stairwell door. He turns to look at you, and you blink. “Where are you going?”

“Needed a stronger drink,” he muses, scanning your face. “You’ve got a little something, here-” he reaches, cupping your chin and brushing his thumb over your lips, “And here,” his fingers smooth across your neck.

“Oh-” you go to wipe at your skin, only to find white and red makeup on your hand.

Mark and Hyuck have just caught up to you, and when you turn, you see their makeup all smudged around their mouths. God, you hadn’t thought about actually fucking a guy in clown paint- this is going to be messier than it already will be fucking three men.

“What’s going on?” Mark asks, looking worried.

“Just getting another drink,” Jae sighs, pulling his hand away from you.

“Can we come?” you question.

“Sure.” Jaehyun reaches down and interlocks your fingers, guiding you up the stairwell while Hyuck and Mark lurch to follow.

You can hear them, two steps behind you, but two becomes four, and they begin to whisper. You makeout the words “serious,” “fucked,” “crazy,” and “sober.” it sounds like an intense conversation, but your mind is more pleasantly occupied thinking about Jaehyun and the way he’s holding your hand.

“Are you enjoying the party?” you ask.

“I was.”

“Looked like you wanted to say something to me earlier,” you point out.

“Maybe I did. It’s out of my head now.”

You’re not sure you believe him, but you don’t press Jaehyun as you make it to his floor. He’s roommates with Jungwoo, and you know the route to their little shared room like the back of your hand. When you get to the door, Jaehyun takes out his key to unlock it before allowing you inside first.

You head toward the shelf they keep their booze, rifling through it for your drink of choice while Jaehyun comes to stand next to you, grabbing the Whiskey.

“How much are you two planning on drinking tonight?” Mark’s voice makes both you and Jaehyun turn to stare at the Canadian.

He looks serious, but it’s hard to take him seriously while dresses as Buggy the Clown.

“Excuse me?” Jaehyun lets out a small laugh.

“I uh…” Mark shuffles awkwardly as Hyuck closes the door behind them, locking you into Jaehyun’s room with your three clowns. “I just… are you two planning on getting drunk or…?”

“I just want a shot,” you explain, finding a tiny glass to fill.

“And I’m just doing a double,” Jaehyun says, pouring whiskey into his red solo cup.

“Since when are you two all about being sober?” you ask, lifting your gaze to assess the two clowns by the door while you raise your glass to your lips.

“We’re usually not,” Mark admits-

“But tonight, we have a good reason to be,” Hyuck finishes.

“Yeah?” Jaehyun sips his drink. “And what reason is that?”

“Well…” Mark’s ears are turning red, and it’s a funny contrast to his blue hair.

“Let’s not play around,” Hyuck sighs. “We all know why we’re here.”

All their eyes shift to you, and you quickly take your shot, grimacing at the taste. “Someone better spit it out,” you prompt, although, you already know where this is going. Mark and Hyuck had already broached the subject with you on the dance floor.

“Fine, I’ll just say it,” Hyuck throws his hands up in defeat. “Clown orgy.”

You let out a small laugh. “Clown orgy?”

“A foursome,” he clarifies. “You told Jaehyun you’d fuck someone dressed as a clown tonight, and you’ve got us three here, in a room, with the door locked. So let’s do this. Don’t pretend you weren’t ready to take your panties off on the dancefloor five minutes ago.”

“We have to talk about this first,” you sigh, looking over at Jaehyun. “They’ve already said they’d be up for it, but I don’t know how you feel yet.”

“I don’t really know how I feel either,” Jaehyun admits, taking another larger swig of his drink.

“Maybe we need some ground rules?” you suggest.

“That would be nice,” Mark nods.

You take a deep breath, knowing what you want to say. “The first rule should be that no matter what happens tonight, we should stay friends. I don’t want to give up karaoke night or make things weird just because I’m attracted to all three of you.”

“That’s fair,” Jaehyun agrees. “What else?”

You consider it for a moment. Part of you wants to say no marking, but at the same time, you kind of hope they leave their brand on you- you want a reminder of tonight, however fleeting, signs of teeth grazing your skin, of hands on your ass and around your throat-

“This isn’t really a rule but uh…” you swallow thickly, “I mean… I’ve told you guys before that none of the dudes I’ve slept with have ever made me cum.”

“Wait,” Hyuck’s smile drops. “Are you for real? I always thought that was a joke.”

“I’m being dead serious,” you admit, feeling your skin heat with embarrassment. “But I can make myself cum, so I know my body can get there-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Hyuck shakes his head, reaching out to put his hand over your mouth. “You’re telling us, that no guy has ever made you cum before?”

You nod.

Hyuck’s hand stays fixed over your lips and he simply stares at you for a few moments. You see Jaehyun and Mark exchange a look.

“Well, that changes tonight.” Hyuck’s hand drops to his side. “Get on the bed and show us how you like it.”

“Will you please get on the bed and show us what you like so we can learn your body better,” Mark corrects, flashing Hyuck a look that says ‘be gentle.’

“You guys want me to… touch myself in front of you?”

“Here,” Jaehyun moves to his bed, sitting against the headboard and spreading his thighs, patting the spot between them. “Come sit with me.”

You’re hesitant at first, but after taking a deep breath you move to join him, watching as he sets his drink down on the bedside table, giving you his full attention. You slip out of your heels, joining him without another thought.

It’s a little odd to sit back against Jaehyun’s warm chest. Even though you hug him often, this position isn’t one you’ve experienced with him- and the promise of what’s to come is heavy on your mind.

“Are you okay with this?” Jaehyun asks, his breath hot on the nape of your neck while you settle.

You nod, licking your lips as your gaze shifts to Mark and Hyuck. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“If you want to stop, just tell us,” Jaehyun says softly. You feel him move closer, and then his lips are pressing to the side of your throat.

Your body reacts, a deep sigh escaping you as you tilt your head, giving Jaehyun more space while leaning back into his embrace. He’s so gentle, and it sets your skin alight with pleasurable tingles. His hands smooth down your bare arms, and when he smiles, you think it’s because he can feel your goosebumps.

“You’re sensitive, huh?” Hyuck asks, coming to sit on the foot of the bed, his eyes fixed on you and Jaehyun.

“Very,” you admit.

Mark is staring at your chest, and when you look down, you find that your nipples have hardened. Your dress has a somewhat built in bra, so you hadn’t bothered with another layer, but now, your sensitive buds are pushing through the fabric, betraying just how much you’re enjoying Jaehyun’s touch.

Your legs are closed, but soon, Jaehyun’s hands are slipping down to your thighs, gently prompting you to spread yourself for the awaiting eyes of the younger frat boys at the foot of the bed. Hyuck and Mark are like dogs with their gaze focused on their favourite toy, Hyuck even licks his lips, staring at you with pupils blown from lust.

You’ve never seen clowns look this serious.

“Are you going to touch yourself for us, barbie? Or do you want me to do it for you?” Jaehyun asks, his lips teasing past your throat with each word.

“I can…” You swallow thickly, “I can show you, but… You’ll take over soon, right?”

“Anything you want,” he assures you.

You want them, and it’s taking every ounce of self control to stay focused on what Hyuck had asked you to do. You suppose there’s a good reason to show them what you like first, and you hope that by doing this, it will only build the tension. When you all finally snap, something tells you that these next few minutes will make a difference in how well they please you.

Your hand is shaky as you bring it to your core, panties exposed by the dress you’re wearing, which has slid up to reveal most of your subtle thighs. When you drag your fingers over your panty covered core, you find a wet patch, and it makes you bite at your lip, stifling a whimper.

“How’s it feel?” Mark asks. When you look up, you find he’s assessing your face, watching you carefully. You realize he’s actually concerned for you, and it only makes you wetter.

“Feels good,” you tell him, rubbing small circles over your clit while relaxing back against Jaehyun’s chest.

The clown behind you has his hands on your thighs, but they shift up, to your hips, then your rib cage- you release a breathy moan when he cups your boobs, thumbs stroking over your nipples. Jaehyun’s lips are on your neck again, and each swipe of his tongue has your core practically throbbing.

You close your eyes, leaning back against Jaehyun, resting your head on his shoulder while you rub yourself even harder. Your knees are bent, feet flat on the bed, and you can’t help the way your hips buck toward your hand.

“Are you close already?” Hyuck asks, and you can pretty much hear him smirking.

You can only nod, focusing on the feeling building in the pit of your stomach. It’s incredibly erotic to be touching yourself while pressed to Jaehyun’s strong chest, to have Mark and Hyuck watching you-

The man behind you pinches your nipples through your dress and you cry out, core pulsing desperately. “Please,” you whimper, although, at this point, you don’t even know what you’re begging for.

Jaehyun’s hand slips down to join your own, cupping your smaller fingers and applying more pressure, helping you work your clit closer and closer to an orgasm-

“Oh my God,” you gasp, hips bucking toward his hand.

His mouth is hot on your neck, his other hand still worshiping your breast. It feels absolutely amazing- this is a position you’ve never been in before. You can feel Jaehyun’s cock straining against the small of your back, but he’s entirely focused on you. Your pleasure is what matters most, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“I’m gonna-” You can’t even finish your sentence, your orgasm washes over you like warm waves, pussy clamping down on nothing, convulsing desperately-

Something moves on the bed. All of the sudden your hand is being pushed away. Your panties are slipped to the side, and you open your eyes to see Mark laying between your thighs, his face pressing up to your pussy so he can lick a stripe at your wet folds. You release a strangled whimper when his tongue flicks by your sensitive clit, your walls still fluttering around nothing.

“Mark-” you whisper, reaching down to tangle your hand in his blue hair. You pull him even closer, shifting and opening your thighs wider for the man that begins to devour you. He licks up every drop of your orgasm, moaning loudly when his tongue dips in to stroke your weakly convulsing walls.

One orgasm has just dwindled out, but it’s clear Mark has the intention of giving you another.

Jaehyun’s hand wraps around your throat, squeezing gently at first, but when you grab his forearm, prompting him to go harder, he concedes. His fingers press on either side of your neck, impeding blood flow and making your head even dizzier.

Mark’s lips suction around your clit, and your body practically short circuits. You tighten your grip in his hair, making him groan, and the vibration through your clit has your legs shaking.

“You gonna cum again?” Hyuck asks, watching you from the foot of the bed. “Markie’s good with his mouth, isn’t he, barbie?”

“So good,” you whimper, grinding against Mark’s face as he brings you closer and closer to the edge with shocking speed.

Mark’s tongue circles your clit, tiny circles, like you’d done with your fingers. His pace is increasing, like yours had- He’d really taken what you’d shown them about your pleasure, and learned it.

Jaehyun’s still gripping your throat, swallowing is hard, but everything feels so good.

Mark wraps his hands around your thighs and he pulls you further down the bed. Your head is now resting against Jaehyun’s chest, and he lets up on your neck, opting to grab your breasts. He pushes your dress down just far enough to release your sensitive nipples, and then he captures them between his fingers.

Jaehyun’s hips rut ever so slightly, his hard length dragging between your shoulder blades while you wiggle against him. Mark’s tongue dips into your pussy, nose rubbing your clit-

“Please-”

The clown between your thighs wraps his lips around your sensitive bud again, sucking as harshly as ever, and it’s the last bit of stimulus you need to fall over the edge.

You throw your head back against Jaehyun’s chest, eyes clenched shut. Your legs try to close around Mark but he holds them open, lewly lapping you through your high while you struggle and cry from how much pleasure is coursing through you.

Your abdomen almost hurts from how intense your orgasm is, and each convulsion of your walls reminds you how painfully empty you are. With three cocks in the room, you can’t believe you’ve already cum twice without being stuffed-

Can’t believe Mark made you cum with his mouth alone.

Your friends really know what they’re doing- and it’s a shock that Mark Lee, the sweetest boy you know, is an absolute menace with his tongue.

As you come down from your high, Mark pulls away from your pussy. You’re panting hard, and you look at him from under heavy lids. His makeup is a complete mess, and when you gaze down between your legs, you find your inner thighs coated in red, white and blue.

You can’t even bring yourself to care.

“So who are you fucking first, barbie?” Hyuck asks nonchalantly.

You swallow thickly, mind racing.

Mark’s the first guy to really make you cum, and your gaze shifts to him. You feel bad not choosing Jae, who is practically throbbing at your back, but Mark looks just as uncomfortable in his pants.

You don’t even have to say his name, it’s obvious who your choice is, and Hyuck sighs loudly.

“But…” you lick your lips, turning in Jaehyun’s embrace to meet his gaze, “I want you in my mouth too.”

He cups your jaw, kissing you for the first time. The only thing gentle about this is his hand on your face, but the kiss is hungry. His tongue invades you, and you shift in his arms, turning to face him. You’re on your knees, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while you press your chests together, needing to be closer to him.

His hands smooth down to your hips, and then you feel another set on your skin, pushing your dress up to your waist. Someone rubs against your pussy, then fingers hook in your panties to drag them down to your knees.

“Condoms?” Mark asks.

You break your kiss from Jaehyun to shake your head, his lips eager against your cheek and throat. “I’ve got birth control, and I’m clean- are you guys all clean?”

“Dirty minds, clean cocks,” Hyuck assures you distantly.

“Good,” you groan, reaching down to grasp Jaehyun’s thick length through his jeans. He groans loudly against your throat.

Mark’s hand smooths against your back, and then you feel his bare cock at your enterance, teasing up and down your slit. He bumps by your clit and your legs shake with anticipation. “You’re dripping,” Mark tells you.

“So fuck me?” you suggest, feeling daring, and very needy. You’re tired of waiting, tired of pretending you don’t want to be split open on multiple fronts.

“Shit,” Jaehyun groans, pulling away from you so he can sit up on his knees, hands moving to his belt buckle.

Mark slips the tip of his cock into your tight hole and you both groan at how easy it is. Your walls flutter around him as he pushes deeper and deeper, until his hips are flush with your ass. “Oh my God,” Mark practically whimpers, his fingers digging into your hips. “You feel so fucking good.”

Mark’s not the biggest cock you’ve ever had, but it fits just right inside of you. As he begins to thrust into you, his balls start to smack against your clit, which is still extremely sensitive from two orgasms. Your toes curl, and you practically begin to drool as Jaehyun finally gets his own dick out, immediately presenting it to you.

You waste no time wrapping a hand around him and bringing him to your mouth. You lick a stripe along the underside, earning a groan from the man above you, and when you wrap your lips around him, Jaehyun actually shivers.

“Holy shit, you look so good like this,” he tells you, reaching down to cup your head.

Mark thrusts particularly hard behind you, and it sends your mouth further onto Jaehyun’s cock, your throat clenching as he hits the back of it.

“Fuck-” Jaehyun groans, tightening his grip on your hair.

You’ve never been spitroasted, never been in an Eiffel tower, but God, it feels good.

Mark’s pace is building, his moans and whimpers like music to your ears while you try to focus half your attention on sucking off Jaehyun-

“Are you into anal?”

Of course Hyuck’s not about to just sit this out, and his question makes you groan. Jaehyun pulls you off his cock, watching intently as a string of saliva keeps your mouth connected to his throbbing length. You swallow thickly, licking your lips before you can answer. “I’ve never tried it,” you admit.

“We should try it tonight,” Hyuck insists. “Lots of girls cum super hard from a bit of anal.”

At this point, you’d agree to anything they suggest. It’s clear that the three men fucking you know what women like, and you’re willing to give yourself completely to them.

“Anything you want,” you say, voice shaky as you bring your lips back to Jaehyun’s cock, sinking down on him again.

“Fuck,” Mark groans loudly behind you. One of his hands moves from your hips, and then you feel a lubed up thumb begin to circle your other hole. Your pussy clenches tight around Mark, and he lets out another sound of appreciation. “Relax, barbie,” he tells you. “It will be better if you relax.”

You do your best to relax your entire body, and it prompts Jaehyun to begin fucking your face now that your throat is more open. Mark’s thrusts have slowed down a little, his attention transferred to the thumb teasing your virgin hole.

You whimper as he presses the tip of his digit inside of you, working you open. It’s a foreign feeling, but as he begins to stimulate you, fucking you onto his cock, you realize Hyuck’s right about it feeling good.

Another orgasm is building in the pit of your stomach. You don’t even know where to focus- Jaehyun sounds so pretty with his cock burried in your mouth, and Mark feels snug with your pussy clenching tightly around him, his thumb slowly thrusting in and out of your ass-

“Shit,” Mark moans loudly, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass cheeks. “I’m gonna cum- this is way too hot- I can cum inside right? You want it inside?”

You let out a sound of affirmation, sucking harder on Jaehyun’s cock. Mark begins fucking you faster again, keeping his thumb burried in your ass while his balls hit your clit with each rough thrust of his hips.

You’re gasping around Jaehyun’s length, muscles pulling tight as Mark works you closer and closer to the edge-

“Fuck, oh my God, shit, Barbie- Can you cum with me?” Mark’s free hand slips around your front, seeking out your clit-

There’s no way this man has his cock in your pussy, his thumb in your ass, and his fingers on your clit- Mark truly said lemme fuck this girl absolutely stupid-

All you can do is whine, sounds muffled by each thrust of Jaehyun’s cock past your lips. You teeter on the edge, core clamping down on Mark-

“Shit, I’m cumming, fuck, cum with me, barbie, holy fuck-”

Mark’s words make you truly tip over the edge. Your entire body convulses and you pull off Jaehyun’s cock, gasping loudly while your other holes clench and unclench desperately around Mark. You rest against Jaehyun’s thigh, reaching up a weak hand to pump his cock through your orgasm, waves of pleasure nearly consuming you.

Mark’s thrusts slowly come to a stop, and you listen to him pant behind you, his breath trailing over your shoulders and making you shiver.

“My turn,” Hyuck announces.

Mark pulls out of your core and you whimper at the loss. You can already feel cum begining to drip out of you, a mix of yours and Mark’s. As much as you miss Mark in your wet, needy cunt, you kind of miss him in your ass too, and it’s a surprising feeling.

“Think you can take something bigger in here?” Hyuck asks, landing a gentle spank to your bum that has you whining desperately.

You can only nod, blinking up at Jaehyun through teary lashes. “Can I fuck you too?”

Jaehyun’s lips part at the notion of double penetration, his cock twitching in your hand. “Yeah, anything you want.”

It’s a quick shift for Jaehyun to lay down on his back, pulling you into a straddling position. You all remove your clothes, and then Jaehyun guides his cock to your wet hole, using the cum as lube, which makes it easy to slide into you. You both release groans when he bottoms out, and your hands find his chest.

You simply cock warm him for a moment, appreciating the stretch. He’s longer than Mark, maybe not as thick, but the tip of his dick hits a spot deep inside of you.

“Bend over,” Hyuck instructs, moving behind you. His hand is gentle on your shoulder as he pushes you down, and you take the opportunity to press your lips to Jaehyun’s, kissing him eagerly.

You roll your hips and Jaehyun groans beneath you, fingers digging into your thighs.

You hear Hyuck spit, and a moment later the feeling of something wet meets your back hole. Hyuck spreads open your cheeks with one hand, using the other to circle your tight ring of muscles with a finger. “Fuck, I can’t believe I get to be the first one inside you like this.”

“It was worth the wait, wasn’t it?” Jaehyun teases, and you know you’ve tested Hyuck’s patience by making him last to touch you.

“So worth it,” Hyuck agrees.

He sinks a finger into your hole and you moan loudly, burying your face against Jaehyun’s throat. “Relax,” he reminds you, smoothing a hand along your spine. “Hyuck’s good at this sort of thing.”

You have to admit, Hyuck does know what he’s doing. He toes the line between rough and gentle, as if he knows exactly what you’re able to take. He twists his hand so you can feel the ridges of his knuckles as he works open your ass, and soon he’s adding a second finger. “You’re a natural, barbie,” Hyuck praises you.

Your core twitches and Jaehyun moans, throwing his head back against the pillow when you begin to kiss his throat. “She likes it,” Jaehyun announces.

“Most girls do, they just have to feel comfortable enough to open up,” Hyuck explains.

So he’s some sort of anal genius, apparently.

You honestly don’t even mind.

He works your ass expertly, and the feeling has you tingling with anticipation. If this is what two fingers feels like, you can’t even imagine having his whole cock.

“I hate to rush you,” Jaehyun says, “but… If we don’t start moving soon, I might die.”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s ready for me,” Hyuck breathes, pulling his fingers out of your ass to land a smack against your skin, “isn’t that right, baby? All ready to be filled?”

You nod. “Please!”

Hyuck spits on your hole again, but then you hear Mark say the word “lube” and you look to find him holding a bottle.

“How did you even know where to find this?” Hyuck asks, accepting the lube and popping open the cap to squirt a line on his cock.

“Most of us only use our bedside tables for one thing,” Mark breathes, meeting your gaze. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” You lick your lips, eyes dipping to bulge forming in Mark’s jeans.

“Are you looking at his cock, barbie?” Hyuck laughs, rubbing himself along your hole, getting you lubricated.

“Maybe.” Your skin heats with embarrassment.

“Is two cocks not enough?” Hyuck teases, landing another harsh smack to your ass.

“She wants the full experience,” Jaehyun smiles good naturedly below you. “Isn’t that right, barbie?”

“I just-” you swallow thickly. “How often do you end up in a foursome? It would be… irresponsible not to try it to the fullest, right?”

“Our little barbie likes being full,” Hyuck groans, sliding the tip of his cock into your ass. “Trust me, you’ll be full by the time this is all over.”

You can’t even respond, your mind much more pleasantly focused on the feeling of Hyuck splitting you open. You’re doing your best to breathe, to relax, but it’s a difficult feat as Hyuck sinks more and more of his thick cock into your virgin hole.

“Oh my God-” you whimper, tangling your fingers in the sheets.

Jaehyun’s hand is smooth along your back, reassuring, and he draws your lips to his again. He eats up your sounds of pleasure as Hyuck bottoms out, releasing a deep groan. His fingers dig into your hips, and he allows you to get used to the feeling of being completely stuffed.

“Good?”

“So good,” you breathe.

“Can I start fucking you stupid now?” Hyuck asks. “Or do you need a moment?”

“Fuck me silly.”

“Don’t mind if I fucking do.” Hyuck’s grip tightens on your hips, and his first thrust makes you cry out, gasping into Jaehyun’s mouth. The man below you lets out a grunt, the force of Hyuck’s motion pushing you further onto his own cock.

You feel Jaehyun adjust, anchoring himself so he can begin to fuck up into you.

They’re holding you steady, hovering over Jaehyun so they can both be the ones moving to meet your holes. Skin slapping against skin, it’s an erratic sound as they both struggle to find a pace that works. You’re clawing at the bed when they both thrust at the same time, so Jaehyun adjusts again, pistoning into you as Hyuck draws back.

Now this feels like heaven.

“Fuck,” you moan, burrying your face against Jaehyun’s throat. “I’m gonna cum- I’m gonna cum so fucking hard-”

“Do it,” Hyuck says, spanking you roughly.

Your entire body clamps down on them from the sting of the hit, and you gasp, teetering on the edge-

“Cum for us,” Jaehyun whispers, his lips teasing your ear. “We’ve got you.”

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, and you explode- but instead of letting up, Hyuck fucks into you even harder. You let out a loud squeal, shivering with stimulation- The clown behind you laughs loudly.

“That’s it, squeeze our fucking cocks! Bet you want our cum so bad- barbie wants to be full, but not until you take all three.”

You lift your head from Jaehyun’s shoulder, body still convulsing around Hyuck and Jaehyun. Mark’s standing next to the bed, cock in hand. “You don’t have to,” he tells you weakly, fist gripped tight around his throbbing length, the head dripping with precum.

“Come here,” you say, practically blind with lust.

Shifting off of Jaehyun’s chest, you plant your hands on the bed, leaning over so you can accept Mark’s cock into your mouth.

He releases a strangled groan, immediately cupping the back of your head so he can begin to fuck into you. It’s not like you can move while held between Jaehyun and Hyuck, no, you’re simply a girl with three holes, getting fucked by three clowns.

You’ve cum three times? Four? You’re not even sure anymore. All you know is nothing has ever been like this, and nothing ever will be again.

It’s like you’ve been transported to an entirely other planet, where orgasming with men is easy and you’re just some needy cock whore desperate for cum.

“Fuck, you just got so tight from sucking on Mark,” Hyuck groans. “You really love our cocks, don’t you, barbie?”

You can only moan around Mark, hallowing your cheeks harder around his length, while he practically whimpers, fucking your throat even harder.

“I don’t know about you two,” Jaehyun breathes, “but I’m about to fucking bust.”

“Me too,” Mark grunts, tightening his grip on your hair.

“I can cum.”

You let out a meak groan of affirmation.

All four of you are going to cum together, and nothing has ever felt so right, so correct.

“On three?” Hyuck suggests.

“On three,” Jaehyun agrees, reaching between your bodies to rub at your clit.

You practically scream, walls shuddering around the cocks pistoning relentlessly in your tight, abused holes.

“That’s it,” Jaehyun coaxes you. “Hold it just a little longer.”

“Three,” Hyuck lands the harshes smack of the night against your ass. “Two-”

“Fuck,” Mark grunts, “One!”

The tension in your stomach snaps as Mark shoots his load down your throat. Your entire body feels practically numb, awash with waves of pleasure that blank out everything else in the entire world.

You hear Jaehyun cuss loudly below you, fingers digging into your hips. Hyuck fills up your ass with his hot cum, groaning as loudly as you’ve ever heard from him while your walls contract with more force than you’ve ever experienced.

You’ve never orgasmed this hard. It’s completely all consuming, wracking you with shivers and something akin to sobs as you pull of Mark’s cock, gasping and burrying yourself against Jaehyun- which is when you realize his cock has slipped out of your core, and he’s jacking himself onto his chest, coating both your skin with white ropes.

“Fuck, barbie, you fucking squirted,” he groans. “Pushed me right out-”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” you whimper, tears filling your eyes at how overstimulated you are.

“No, babe, that was hot as fuck,” Jaehyun assures you, finishing and pulling his hand away from his cock, cupping your face to pull your lips to his.

“I wanna see that again,” Hyuck says from behind you, pulling out of your ass only to release a sinful sound at the sight of both of your holes dripping-

“She’s done,” Jaehyun’s voice is as stern as you’ve heard it so far, and he tucks you against his shoulder, stroking your hair.

“She can do one more, I wanna make her squirt-”

“No. She’s fucking crying, Hyuck. Give her some rest.”

“She’s crying?” Mark and Hyuck ask at the same time, but the latter sounds much more happy about it than the former.

“I’ve never cum that hard, or that many times,” you admit weakly.

“Lemme get a towel,” Mark suggests immediately, and you can hear his soft footfalls as he runs across the room.

“You did good, baby,” Hyuck tells you, stroking your back. “Took us all like a fucking champ.”

You can only shiver at his words, your pussy throbbing as an echo of the highs they’ve just provided you.

“Here, can you sit up for us?” Mark asks.

Hands gently help you up, and you look down at Jaehyun’s body, shocked to find his skin glistening with squirt and cum. Jaehyun takes the towel from Mark. He starts by wiping at your face, “clown makeup,” he explains. Then he swipes the cloth along the front of your body, you shiver when he traces over your nipples. He cleans himself last, tossing the ruined fabric to the floor.

“I feel like we all still need a shower,” Jaehyun sighs.

“In the middle of the Halloween party?” Mark’s eyes widen. “The bathrooms are full of people!”

“And barbie probably can’t even walk,” Hyuck points out.

Your legs do feel shaky, even while sitting on top of Jaehyun.

“Mark, can you go grab us a few more towels from your room?” Jaehyun suggests. “Ten probably has makeup removing wipes-”

“We should just move to our room,” Hyuck interrupts.

“Like you said, barbie can’t even walk. We’re staying here.”

“Isn’t your bed ruined with cum?”

“Actually, most of he squirt landed on me,” Jaehyun says, looking at the bed sheets under him. “It’s fine here.”

“You’re being selfish,” Hyuck’s nose scrunches up with distaste. “Mark and I share a room, you’re here with Jungwoo, it’s two against one.”

Except, Mark has already left in search of towels, so at the moment, it’s one versus one. Without the Canadian’s support, Hyuck’s easily beaten by a harsh glare from Jaehyun.

“Well, I guess I’m sleeping here too,” Hyuck sighs.

“No you’re not, the bed hardly fits two.”

“Not my problem.” Hyuck shrugs, walking to Jaehyun’s closet to pull out some clean clothes. “It’s called aftercare Jae, cuddles come with the package.”

Jaehyun only groans helping you move to lay next to him.

Hyuck practically jumps on the foot of the bed, looking up at you with a shit eating pennywise grin that’s completely smudged. “Did you have fun, babe?”

“The most fun,” you smile back, curling close to Jaehyun’s side.

“Best Halloween ever?” he suggests.

“A hundred percent,” you agree.

Your body is sore, and you’re more tired than you’ve been in a long time, but you feel comfortable. You always feel comfortable with these guys. Sure… you’re laying on a towel with cum dripping out of two holes, but… you still feel at peace.

Mark returns quickly, with more cloths and makeup remover. The boys help you out first, with Jaehyun cleaning your face while Hyuck deals with the cum and makeup between your legs. Mark finds you a spare set of sweats and a hoodie from Jaehyun’s closet, and soon you feel more comfortable than ever.

It’s kind of sad watching your friends take off their clown colours, but you’re sure you’ll have the memory of this etched into your brain forever, so that’s something you can lean on at least.

“How are you feeling now?” Mark asks, reaching for your hands to pull you up onto your feet.

Your legs are a little wobbly, but you’re doing okay, and you flash him a smile. “I think I’m alright.”

“Do you wanna run to the bathroom with me? I read somewhere that uti’s happen easier if you don’t uh…” Mark swallows thickly, skin turning a pretty shade of pink that contrasts the blue in his hair, “If you don’t you know, go to the bathroom after.”

He’s adorable, and so caring. When you agree, Hyuck jumps to his feet, and just like that, it becomes a group trip, with even Jaehyun tagging along.

The hallway on this floor is pretty clear, but you run into Jungwoo exiting the bathroom. He stops in his tracks, looking you up and down, then he begins to beam. “Looks like you guys had fun.”

“Stop it,” you push at his shoulder, skin heating with embarrassment. Sure, you’ve told him for a while that you’d love to partake in a clown orgy, but it’s another thing entirely to run into him after getting three holes stuffed by his best friends.

“Are you staying over tonight?” Jungwoo asks.

“Yeah, she’s with us,” Jaehyun responds, hand finding your hip to tug you closer as Hyuck and Mark enter the bathroom to wash the last pit of clownery off their skin.

“As in… she’s staying in our room?” Your best friend’s eyes light up. “Oh my god, sleepover!”

“Hyuck and Mark are joining too,” Jaehyun sighs, tightening his grip on you.

Jungwoo’s smile grows. “Karaoke night!?”

You and Jaehyun exchange a look and he laughs. “I’m not sure any of us have the energy for that, Woo.”

“Right, cuz you all just had hot nasty clown orgy sex. I’m the only one who hasn’t gotten laid so far.”

“You can still change that,” Jaehyun says, giving his roommate some much needed encouragement.

“Nah, it’s sleep over time,” Jungwoo grins.

You love how excited he is to spend time with you and the three men you’ve just fucked. Jungwoo doesn’t have a care in the world- it’s a good sign. Maybe this little clown orgy really didn’t change much in the relationships, or at least, as a group it still feels like things are strong.

You have no idea what tomorrow will bring, but something tells you that everything is going to work out.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Another year, another Halloween, another weird clown fic from user smileysuh

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🔮 preview. In the months you’ve been dating these three men, you’ve tried a lot of different sex positions. But you’ve never tried being stuffed full of cock while both of your tits get sucked on and your clit is played with… you should have tried this ages ago.

cw/ tw. Threesome, unprotected sex, breast worship, biting, Mark/Hyuck worshiping her breasts at the same time, cum/filling kink, douple penetration, blow job, oral, deep throating, overstimulation, pussy slapping, messy sex, painting her skin with makeup, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby, babe.

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“Why are we doing clown makeup again?” Mark asks, looking at the eye shadow pallet with distaste. “It’s a Valentine’s Day party, not Halloween.”

“Exactly,” Hyuck says, brushing crimson around his eyes. “It’s Valentine’s Day, which means she’s going to be more focused on Jaehyun. We have to do something to even the playing field- besides, it’s not full clown, it’s just… a few red hearts, a bit of makeup- you know how much our baby loves getting messy.”

“I guess you’re right,” Mark sighs. It’s been three and a half months since that first night you all fucked, and since then, they’ve learned a lot about you and your… tastes. You definitely like having your skin painted, in makeup as well as cum.

Hyuck’s gotten particularly good at clown makeup, and tonight, even Mark has to admit his roommate looks good. He’s gone for a lighter cream coloured base, with a red glittery heart around one eye, and his mouth done up in the same glittered scarlet colour- it’s clear to Mark that Hyuck intends on getting you nice and messy tonight.

Mark, on the other hand, isn’t very interested in makeup. Hyuck had insisted they do different colours, and after you’d revealed how much you liked his blue hair at Halloween, he’s since dyed his strands a soft, steely, sky shade.

Instead of going full clown, Mark does a few glittery blue hearts along his cheekbone. He doesn’t mind if Jae gets to be the main attraction in his romanesque cupid outfit, it is his birthday afterall.

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romanoffsbish · 1 month

Text

Forever Mine

Natasha Romanoff x F!R (College AU)

Warnings: Angst -> Fluff / HE | Classism / Break-Up | Insecure R | Jealous / Possessive Natasha | Violence

Natasha was supposed to be having the time of her life, it was her final year playing college ball and she was hoping to end it on a good note but you threw her off her game. So, the night before another she found you at a party… | WC: 7,252

18+ | Minors DNI

Natasha glared across the room as she caught a fool with their eyes on you—the love of her life (the ex). You smiled politely; sweet, the way that always made her face hot and her heart skip—the most beautiful feeling.

Everything was perfect, but then you ended things. Nonsense uttered about focusing on school but you were not dressed like someone who preferred solitude.

You looked like you were here to fuck and forget, which only further soured her mood. Here she was waiting, hoping to see you since you won't answer her calls and you were relaxing at a frat party in a scandalized fit. It only made her heart ache even more for owed answers.

——

Her first thought was to yell at you, to cross the room and scream at you in front of your peers until you apologize or run out crying. The rational side of her could see you were out of your element, while they told jokes you nodded but your smile had lost its shine. It was clear to her you were definitely not feeling joyful.

Which is more in line with what she expected since you two were just madly in love a month ago, then you came back home from Christmas vacation with her family in Malibu, where the weather was dreary. It was a weekend full of pretentiousness, her parents to blame but with you at her side she could actually handle it all.

One smile from you and she'd settle, you were so calm and loving, everything she felt she didn't deserve but nonetheless she clung to with firm arms. Every time her parents upset her, she'd find and pull you close and you would let her without a single prying question, the two of you would naturally melt into pure tranquility.

Unfortunately that peace you brought her now ceased to exist, you changed in a blink, the quiet car ride home alarmed her enough, you fell asleep on the couch that night then somehow she lost her entire heart in three days when you stumbled right out the door—you left.

She shared her New Years kiss with a bottle of Rosé, the one that Wanda gifted you on your twenty first birthday, when everything was so much simpler.

You were saving it for your second anniversary, which was meant to occur a few days ago, but you walked out before that could happen so she took a large swig then poured the rest of the bottle out onto your cacti that filled a corner of her house. Now you lived in a friend's dorm until you can find somewhere else to stay. The redhead begged you to stay, even offering to stay in a hotel until you could find somewhere secure and safe.

You refused and rushed out to avoid sobbing in front of her and begging her to just love you even if you would never be good enough for her; Natasha was luxury.

You were too, but beauty was in the eye of the beholder and you were trusting the hoaxed, who lived to judge. Natasha had a suspicion for what your motive was. The breakup has been on her mind every day and it is what keeps her up at night. She should be furious, it is her right after all, but all she feels is deep pain and regret.

Regret for not publicly calling out her family for ever shunning you; making sure you felt her love, she saw a flash of unwillingness and regret before you turned away from her and ran out the door with two bags and there in turn lies the pain, not being able to love you. A set of tears slid down her cheeks as she remembered that night, the inevitable memory spiral underway.

Her mind cleared when she heard you say no way, there were a million reasons for it but she assumed the worst based on her petty observations. Natasha saw a look of discomfort on your face and her nonchalant resolve crumbled, the rage she felt towards you turned into something she could express as she walked over to the both of you and punched DJ square in the face.

"Oh my god," you gasped, "Natasha what the fuck?"

"The prick should have kept their hands to themself!"

You rolled your eyes, prepared to defend your friend but DJ rushed forward and head-butted Natasha in the nose, blood gushed and you felt queasy at the mess you had made by ignoring their encouragements to talk with her, maybe if you had this headache wouldn't be.

They ran with the violence though, leaving you frozen in place, unable to move in their tumultuous direction.

Until Natasha easily got the upper hand seconds later, tapping into the power of the Greek gods to punch the poor kid in the gut. Your lanky friend went flying and you realized it was time to intervene before cops arrive.

DJ bounced back fast and went to swing next but you jumped in between them and the brunette faltered. A sigh of dejection left their lips and they lowered their fist but the glare didn't waver. "Watch your back, Red."

You sent them off with a smile of appreciation and they nodded like it was a secret code. Natasha wore her envy close to her chest until it spread to her features.

"Are you really already seeing other people," she cried, a direct contrast to her glassy eyed glare, even when her words are angry she can only express devastation.

"Natasha," you pled, "come with me upstairs, please."

The redhead didn't want to give you the grace of a shameless admittance. You humiliated her by breaking her heart before the semi-finals game that DJ had to save. Natasha was the best on the team, coming in at only 5'3 but she had unbeatable court skills. That was supposed to be her night for scouts to truly take notice of her, she was meant to shine, but now, instead she is on the eve of the finals on the verge of being benched.

Instead of practicing her free throws down at the court with the metal chains; sprinting short distances in manic repetition, or most importantly, getting sleep; she is intermixed with drunk college idiots for you.

Because, as much as she hated admitting it, she just can't do any of those things without you being her personal cheerleader anymore—she is exhausted.

Something you noticed when you finished wiping her face clean of the blood and smudged makeup. Under it all, you found winter kissed cheeks where faint freckles remained, waiting for the rays to bring them back, the urge to kiss over the bridge of her nose arose. A soft, instinctual smile graced your face until you caught sight of her dark circles and dry, flaky skin. "Natasha."

It was a whisper but she heard your shock and guilt. Though the redhead misunderstood your concern, and boasted, "they had it coming, you needed protection."

You reached down to rinse off the rag, then began to smooth it over her face once more, the warmth of the fabric blanketed her in false serenity as you couldn't just let her be cocky and vaguely noble. "You don't need to protect me Nat, and especially not from my friends." Natasha rebuffed you with a promise, her tone venomous, "I will always protect you from tools."

"You shouldn't," you changed your approach, and just as expected she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, why's that?"

You sighed regretfully, "I'm not yours anymore Nat..."

"Says you," she grunted, "I had no say nor an actual explanation. Just lies about focusing on school as if we weren't both already focused students at the start."

"We're on different paths," you weakly tried again, moving to gently clean her discolored, swelling nose. "Don't," she warned as she momentarily turned cold, her eyes hardened and she pushed your hands away only to disgust you as her hands popped her nose back into place, she took in a shaky breath and you broke even more seeing the way she tried to hide her wince.

"Please, just let me take care of you Nat, you're only hurt because of me." Natasha scoffed bitterly, "that's a gross understatement if I've ever heard one before."

"I—," you flinched and Nat regretted her harshness instantaneously, her scowl quickly fell into a frown.

There was no satisfaction like she thought there'd be in rightfully scolding you for breaking her heart. All that was left in her mind was to receive the truth for it all.

"Why?" her murky, viridescent eyes filled with tears and you sighed sadly, "I heard your parents Nat, what they said, and I couldn't help but to see the end." You felt it was time to be honest, leaving the ball in her court on if she even wanted to fight for this or if she was angry enough that she'd pick her family over you.

Natasha's expression did a 180 as you confirmed her worst nightmare, her features rightfully downcast, she was pissed off, but wasn't exactly sure who at just yet, them for ever interfering or you for not talking it out.

"What they said isn't true," she growled, "not to me."

You chuckled humorlessly, "they're right Nat. I am not going to ever be at your caliber. I'm going to be a low wage teacher for heaven's sake, you'll be an engineer."

"So what? Those are jobs!!" Natasha lost it and you fed off her anger, gut gnawing detest clear as you spoke on, "Melina said it best, you're beautiful—better, and I..."

Natasha harshly slammed her lips to yours, body seamless as it slipped off the counter and spun you around until she had you corralled. The upset woman blindly reached behind herself to lock the door, then she pushed you into the marble until you whimpered.

The way your body was bent back over the sink hurt, the side of your face being pressed onto the chilled mirror. Natasha was just trying to silence you, to keep you from saying anything remotely self deprecating, but then she couldn't stop herself from seeking more.

In a haste manner she smoothly lifted you up from beneath your thighs and hoisted you onto the counter like you weighed nothing and proceeded to kiss you. All rational thought left you as she devoured your soul, just like she always did whenever she kissed you quiet.

A metallic taste pulled you from your desires, you pulled away and tried to push her back but it was fruitless. Natasha was soft in nature, when she wanted to be—her eyes used to regard you so, but now they were hard and terrifying. Most weekends you'd spend laying your head on her stomach that had a soft bloat for you to snuggle against. Right now though, with her entire body tensed you were reminded of her strict gym regimen and diet, designed just for her scholarship.

"Please," she begged, something that momentarily stunned you since she never was one to beg. "I need this Y/N, like a fire needs air to breathe, I need you."

"You have to let me go," you tried to sound genuine but she could hear the tremble in your voice. "I-I can't be the reason you lose your family Natasha. Yelena ne—."

"I'd give everything and everyone else in the world up if it meant you'd be by my side," she cut you off, her heart would shatter if Yelena took her parents side but it would be bearable if you were there to hold her tight.

"I'm not worth it Tash," you tried again, pushing with all your might because you knew how close the sisters are, but Natasha wouldn't relent on this. Instead, she burrowed her face into the warm space between your shoulder and jaw that was made just for her to do.

"You're worth plenty," she mumbled against your skin that now felt the warmth of her love as she suckled.

"Na-Nat," you moaned and she hummed in sync, "I need you to let go," she paused abruptly for emphasis, using your own words against you like a power move, "of this idea that I'm somehow better than you, Y/N."

"You—." Natasha cut you off, "don't need you to speak for me—especially when you parrot my idiot parents."

For the first time in forever you were silent, allowing Natasha a moment to just observe your sullen face. There was no spark left in your eyes to mirror your adventurous soul and it broke her heart even more which the redhead never thought possible. If she never heard from her parents again she'd avoid a felony.

"Yelena loves you by the way, something you know."

"I do," you admitted, "but they're your guys parents."

"Fuck them," she commanded, "they don't matter."

"They love you two." Natasha shrugged. "Yeah, but love shouldn't have limits, Y/N, and if theirs does then it's worthless to me. I want something real, and deep and could give two fucks less about your damn net worth."

Natasha decided right as she saw your longing glance that now is as good a time as any to finally confess her feelings, "I-," but she was suddenly nervous. A moment of heavy silence passed, your eyes curious and hopeful, yet guarded. "I love you," she admitted the truth she'd failed to so many times before. It had to be perfect, but then you said it first and instead of screaming it back she kissed you with so much passion you blanked.

That night she made love to you, but it wasn't enough.

Not only did you fail to see her devotion but you heard her parents, whom she once highly respected, dismiss you as worthy of her love anyways because of status.

They only had money because Melina works for the Starks, yet somehow they thought they were genuine elites. Nobody invited the family to galas, they just had an oversized house and sports cars to sell the image.

All her life the redhead was told how to exist to keep the whole facade up, what she should wear, how to impress adults, where to go—whether that be for dinner or college, and the list goes on until she finally ended her parents overbearing reign on her future.

Natasha chose engineering because it came easy to her, the same way that teaching and nurturing did to you, the exact reason the redhead fell for you, it pains her to see that what she loves most is being used against you.

Especially because what you are is light and love, and no amount of money could pay for such attributes, it was just organically woven into the foundation of you. It's what made you the perfect candidate for education.

Natasha is a firm believer that teachers make the world go round, even if she's had her fair share of the spawns of Satan himself, the ones who would punish her for her undiagnosed and therefore unmanaged ADHD. It wasn't until junior year that she found herself a you and if not for that she would be living without truth.

Mrs. Rambeau, known to her as Maria during lunch, was her first period Calculus teacher. The woman was stern at a first glance, but without the rowdy crowd of classmates she was soft and hilarious. The moments spent with her eased Natasha's own deprecating voice.

It was her who convinced Natasha to go for what she wanted and not to follow her mom into a lab or her dad into a lifelong play of sports that'd lead her to coaching and to the inevitable breakdown of her body over time.

At her graduation it was her she sought out first, and where she met her wife, Carol and their daughter, Monica. The couple had laughed knowingly at the awestruck teenager before Maria hugged her tight. Then Natasha lifted their little girl, letting her hang off her flexed forearm and found her heart melted as the sweet girl with the dimples and swaying curls giggled.

Natasha saw her future clearly through them; a family, something she only could have with you in her arms.

"I'll give up engineering," she declared, "be a teachers assistant to the prettiest one this towns yet to meet."

"What?" You shook your head, "don't be insane now."

"I'm afraid I've already fallen off my rocker detka," she teased, but you didn't share in the humor of the moment, her smile turned into a frown as she sighed, "I lost every last good part of me with you; the only way to bring me back is with our love restored."

"Natasha, I," you paused, a bit unsure where to start, but it didn't matter because she always knew what to say. "I'm no better than you," she continued with a smile that spoke of honesty. "I'm beneath you."

"No," you rebutted and she shook her head with an obvious expectation. "Seriously Y/N/N, if you don't teach the next generation then there's no future!!"

You chuckled, finally easing into your ex's embrace, "Natasha, I will hardly make a difference in their lives."

"You are so clueless," she groaned, "I love and hate that about you the most. Because, when you trip over your words and I kiss you silent it's perfect." Her lips quirked reminiscently and yours easily followed, then she was back to her enthused speech, "Yet, when I am telling you just how amazing you are, you still push back. I just want you to see what I do, let me love you."

"You love your family," you reminded her once again and she shrugged once more, growing tired of your baseless argument. "Not as much as I love you detka."

Natasha snorted painfully as your breath hitched, a bit too amused by your shock, as if her sentiment wasn't clear prior, even with the absence of her words. "The only question is do you love me enough to let me lead."

"I—." Once again you paused, but this time it was because you couldn't refrain from yanking her back into you for a kiss. A rushed 'sorry' slipped from your lips between steamy, sloppy open mouthed kisses, meant mostly for the wince as your nose had nudged hers but it was emotional in tone so she understood it held a much deeper meaning. Forgiving you was easy...

Especially when she had your body to release her anger upon, her fingers slipped between the tense skin of your abdomen and skirt, "is it okay?" As soon as you moaned yes her svelte fingers slipped over the wet hot mess she'd created, pulling breathy moans from you as she parted your slick lips with her twitching fingers.

Natasha knew what she was doing, teasing you was her specialty, known to build you up until you were crying tears of immense joy. The redhead was lowering you into a false sense of security though, her thumb lightly pressed into the nub that pulsed with need then she changed the pace and plunged into your tight walls.

"Oh fuck," you threw your head back and hoped the glass wouldn't shatter, fortunately it didn't but you sure did break the sound barrier with your cries as she went from one to three fingers between a heartless set of thrusts. Her palm pressed and dug into your clit every single time her digits slammed back into you, each time she reached even deeper in as your growing arousal made stretching you out so easy. You trembled with such need the redhead could've cum on the spot, the same way you felt with the vicious pace she'd set.

It wasn't too far from your normal encounters, as soft as your relationship was, Natasha was very passionate in the bedroom. There was usually a delicate flair to the way she would pound into your cunt, but this time it was deliciously vicious. To the point that breathing became a struggle for you as the redhead masterfully brought you close to the edge. Teetering was all you could do though as she never let you fall fully, which was so unlike her, usually you had to beg her to stop..

The free hand not buried within you lifted your shirt and tossed it across the bathroom in one fluid motion. Her tongue swift and warm as it trailed down the side of your neck, lathing over the brutal marks as she left them behind. Natasha needed to remind you and the entire campus who was going to forever have you, which is why she continued on down. Impatience at the forefront of her mind as she remembered what it was like to bring you to the edge, so she ripped your bra and you felt the reminder of immense pleasure as her tongue curled beneath your nipple, lips suctioned to your heated skin as she began to suck and nibble.

Drool pooled under her chin and slid down your skin as she lavished both of your breasts, keeping you a muffled moaning mess but no matter the waves of pleasure that followed the curl of her fingers or the ruthlessness of her teeth, you just couldn't reach that special place of pleasure because the redhead also knew just what not to do and it was starting to hurt.

"Na-Natasha please," you finally gave into the desire, needing release and not understanding the denial as your thighs impulsively tried to shut around her arm. The redhead considered it, always loving when you begged, but she couldn't just yet, her fingers stopped but they remained buried deep within. "N-no! Why?"

The redhead released the side of your breast that had just been caught between her teeth, the burn of her former grip lingered and weakened your fortitude as you caught a glimpse of her heavy turmoil. "Natty?"

There was a level of despondency that alarmed you. Ever since she saw you tonight, her mind just couldn't stop wondering—have you been with someone else? The sickening thought, that it could be DJ, made her behave irrationally, her fingers tensed inside of you.

"Who's been taking my—," Natasha's growl was cut off by your abrupt plea, "Natasha, look at me." She didn't. Your voice was strained from priorly screaming, but even so it remained strong, "look up, come on baby."

Still, she remained frozen, trapped within her mind as her fears continued to mercilessly taunt her. It broke you all over again to see just how insecure she had become since the breakup. Knowing your choices led her to this moment, where she'd doubt you, hurt a lot.

"I am, and always have been yours," you practically begged her to believe you, tone sincere and hardly influenced by your need to cum. "I have not, and would not have been with another. I only want you Nat, please." The redhead lifted her gaze from where her chin was pressed into your breast to find your earnest face. She believed you, but she was still so mad and kept her forgiveness shadowed behind dark eyes. "I'll believe it when everyone else does; scream my name..."

The way her calloused fingertips brushed over your most sensitive spot within as she curled her digits, holy hell—you nearly blacked out; the corners of your vision blurred as your eyes rolled when her move repeated, over and over, each new thrust more aggressive than the last and that sent you cascading into your bliss after having already received her veiled approval.

A loud scream of her name that became a desperate chant until eventually you were no more capable of an incoherent set of babbles as she kept up her brutal pace was, well, it was clarifying. It finally put the redhead at ease with your truth, she was able to feel as your walls squeezed her in place with every desperate cry of her name that dripped from your chewed up lips.

The bitter tension left her body in a whoosh but all that did was soften her thrusts. A warm, wet kiss left at the base of your neck made your walls quiver with the aftereffects of the high and it became apparent then that Natasha didn't have the interest to stop herself.

"Nat," you called out hoarsely, "you need to rest."

Though your body resisted the message your mind was sending as it reacted pitifully when her wet fingers departed your warmth, just to slide up and slowly stroke your clit, steadfast on keeping you engaged.

"I'll rest when I'm full," she teased against the side of your breast, where her tongue returned to trace over your sensitive skin. "N—," your words faded into a gasp when her teeth grazed your sore nipple just before the redhead began to suckle again, with so much passion and effort you'd think you were feeding her. In a way, you were as the lust clouded your responsible mind, and just like that you were giving into her slightly.

Your fingers, fueled by desire, roughly wove into her hair and the passion was back on, in full force as she released your nipple with a loud pop as she groaned. A strong arm slid beneath your ass and pulled you from the counter and in a flash you found yourself pressed into a frat boy's lumpy mattress. Natasha admired you up close and purred huskily, "such a pretty thing."

"N-Nat," the redhead slipped her tongue into your mouth and sullied your protest into obscurity as her rough hands explored your every curve. A whimper vibrated beneath her palm, having had slid up to wrap her fingers around your throat, the way you mutually craved. There was a possessive, domineering glint in her eye the moment she pulled away to see the result.

You were always such a worrier, so she knew the only way you'd shut up is if she made you—it was also such a turn on for her to watch you go cross eyed every time she cut your access to air off, it was a delicate play of pain and pleasure she had mastered, it always left you desperate for more, something she saw in your eyes just before your lips met again in a passionate kiss.

Her teeth had clashed with yours and you tasted the metallic consequence, which only made you feel hotter. Both of her hands slid down your sides, painfully slow, you could barely breathe as her toying with you worked you up. Natasha's clit pulsed with yours when she felt your thighs tremble as her fingers oh so gently landed on the slippery skin, but with a coded firmness as she'd gripped onto them. The look in your eyes told her she'd won, the smirk let you know she knew; she spread you out further, pecked your lips and spoke, "I am going to devour you now Y/N, I've been deprived long enough."

Before you could grapple with your conscience and deny her on the basis of her own wellbeing she was situated with her face before your slicked lips. The aroma of your essence naturally wafted her way and the saliva that filled her mouth was autonomic enough to inspire her to surge forward to lap up the trails of you that ran down your plush thighs. Every once in a while she'd stop to play with your heartbeat, suctioning her lips at the apex of your thigh, nearest to your mound that only further glistened with neediness.

Natasha knew she had a game to prepare for, the same way you did—but she saw prep differently than you. Sure, sleep was important, but if she was expected to win, she would need to have her taste of you first. After all, you should remember her game time ritual; to fuck her pretty, good luck charm dumb the night before. It had never failed her, until you disappeared of course, which only proved, to her, that this sequence mattered.

A groan left the redhead when she finally dove into you, but fortunately for her you found pleasure in the way she let her pain vibrate through your intimacy. Your back quickly arched as her tongue swirled around your clit and she took pride in knowing you were so distracted by the pleasure she gave you. In your right mind, you would've pushed her away, but that's exactly why she worked so hard to get you to be this pliant..

"Mmmm," you expressed your feelings through a low hum as your hips twitched and pressed your core further against her face, letting her tongue reach even further within, where you by some degree tasted even sweeter. This subtle change always drove the redhead to lose her mind as she strained her neck just to reach your sweetness again. The carnal hunger drove her hands to grip your thighs tight enough to leave bruises and press you further apart, the sounds that came from below were down right lewd now, fueling your praises along and leaving Natasha's boxers stuck to her skin.

"Ohhh shit," you shrieked when you felt the tip of her tongue barely graze a particularly sensitive spot, dots of white filled your vision and Natasha hardly heard your mindless praise with the way your thighs tried to double up as earmuffs. If not for her trained strength, she would likely be deafened to your waves of pleasure, which she needed to fuel her own but she managed to keep you apart just enough to hear your pretty cries.

You were so heavenly, Natasha was overjoyed to have you like this again, her hollow walls quivered with such a need as she felt your juices drip down her chin, that she nearly readjusted both of your bodies to fuck your face but she was too desperate to bring you to climax. Which is why she pulled her tongue out, chuckling devilishly against your sensitive folds when you whined in protest, you looked down, dazed. It was the hottest thing to witness as she locked her gaze with yours.

Natasha placed a few open mouthed kisses to your pussy lips as she slowly made her way up to your clit, dark gaze stuck on yours, you stopped breathing for a moment when you took her appearance in. A bit of the lust wavered from yours as she slowed it down, and she saw the concern in yours as the bruising had worsened.

Before you could grapple with your sound morality her tongue softly caressed your neglected clit, you mewled and nearly fell back down but Natasha wasn't having it. "Eyes on me detka," her gravely tone sent a delightful shiver down your spine—you were enraptured as you watched, and felt, her swollen lips brush over your clit.

"Na—," you were going to beg for relief but stuttered as two of her fingers teased your entrance, she slowly pumped her fingertips in and out as her lips only covered your clit, offering no real stimulation. Until she finally broke the silence, "give me everything."

Her lips suctioned around your swollen nub, and you nearly blacked out as her fingers slid all the way in, predatory eyes piercing into your closing set. Your left side jutted off the bed as the intensity of the pleasure you felt was just too much for your body to bear after so much overstimulation. Natasha swiftly readjusted her body, arching her back to give her wrist more space to move, but mostly to allow her to hold your body down with her right arm pressing into your stomach.

Sweet arousal continued to fill her mouth as it gushed up with every thrust of her fingers, you were so close and she wanted to be closer to you. So her thumb replaced her lips on your clit, as they were traveling up your body, knees holding you open as the arm holding you down now held her up. Your thighs trembled and most of your body ached but you welcomed her tongue down your throat without resistance. It was as if all you needed was to taste yourself on her lips because just like that you were squirming, trying desperately to close your legs and this time Natasha allowed you to.

Once again she readjusted, pressing her covered core against your thigh, you felt the warmth and fell apart. The kiss you two shared broken as you both moaned in mutual ecstasy. You felt so desperate to get her off further, even though you were exhausted, so your hand slid into her shorts to find the results of her climax. There was thought of protest, but Natasha missed this and knew she wouldn't last long so there was no need.

With skilled fingers you spread her arousal around then easily slipped two of them inside her warmth, pumping in and out slowly like she preferred, at first. The pace picked up when she clenched around your fingers, you began to kiss her again, and after just three firm curls of your fingers within her she came once more. In a matter of seconds you greedily pulled your fingers from below to slip them into your mouth.

You softly hummed around your fingers as you were reacquainted with your girlfriend's divine taste. The moment your lips were free you felt hers, it was a warm kiss full of sensuality as she mixed your arousals with her exploratory tongue. It made your out of order body feel as if it could actually go on for the entire night.

"I want more," she rasped against your lips, you met her with a soft giggle and she fell into you with a pout. "I want more too, Tasha," you sighed, your hands firm as they squeezed her hips, emphasizing your words. "But we should really get your nose fixed up and then get some sleep, since you need to be court ready."

Natasha reluctantly agreed, and moved to help you to clean up, she readjusted your clothes until you looked untouched by her, then she kissed you. You felt her love already but smiled as she said the words so softly, you hugged her tight and returned the sentiment. It was a perfect moment, her hand caressed your neck while her other gripped your opposite hip from behind.

For a moment you both ignored responsibility and just held each other close. A loud knock pulled you both from the peaceful embrace and you looked to your everything with wide eyes. Natasha was amused, a part of her wanted to rip the door open and walk out with you on shaky legs so everyone knew you were hers.

The other, more mature part knew to protect your dignity so she found an escape route instead, just in time for the drunken idiot to pull out their room key. She tore the sheets off their bed, stuffing them into a frat duffle she'd return later and rushed you onto the balcony, that conveniently had a set of diagonal stairs.

You ran across the street to her car, laughing as she held you back from opening your own door, her arm wrapped around your waist as she kissed the side of your neck affectionately. Once the door was opened by her, she allowed you to move forward while rushing back to her side so she could settle you in. You rolled your eyes and waited patiently as she turned the key in the ignition, turning the heater on for you before she buckled you in, then tugged on the strap to check it.

Soon enough she was driving you out of the area and towards her apartment, with her hand on your thigh, her focus remained on the road but her fingers gently traced shapes into your exposed skin at the red lights. Offering you comfort that you appreciated, as this is your first time in the space since you left. If you asked Natasha yesterday, she'd say you deserved to feel bad, but after a few minutes with you she felt otherwise.

It was quiet as you entered, the both of you moving around as if you never parted. You greeted Liho, and waited for Natasha to let you know she was ready as she went on to prepare the shower for you both. It gave you time to see nothing had changed, except that even more photos of you two together had been put up. You smiled as your heart cracked a bit at the depth of her.

It was overwhelming to go from genuine questioning to so assured in her love for you. It was easier though when she looked at you, hand extended and body bare. You let her guide you to the bathroom, undress you, and devote her time to taking care of you. Then, once you were both dressed for bed you did the same, you straddled her on the toilet and patched her nose up.

You deposited kisses to her unaffected skin, and lips with every wince and made sure not to take too long addressing her nose. Natasha preferred quick and painful to slow and still somewhat painful. There wasn't much you could do anyway but to apply an ice cube bag for as long as she'd allow then put a splint on.

In appreciation or infatuation, you received a deep kiss but you were not going to fall prey to her charm, again. You both needed to rest, so you departed in a hurry.

When you got out of the bathroom you expected to lay down on the tempurpedic mattress you missed just slightly more than your lover. But just as your behind nearly met the mattress you were scooped between buff arms, a tired giggle leaving you. "Not so fast."

You hadn't a chance to respond before she whisked you out of the apartment in your thin pajamas, but now that you've adjusted to being outside you whined, "it's cold," and the redhead giddily jumped into action. In a matter of seconds you were enveloped by warmth and cedar-wood, the familiar scratch of her letterman jacket brushed against your skin and you smiled. It was a brief moment of comfort until you heard her yawn.

"Natasha, it's two in the morning and your bus leaves at six," you instantly scolded the redhead, who now sported a skin tone nose splint that you hoped would blend well beneath her foundation. "I need to practice, the game is tomorrow, today is just travel and practice so we can sleep on the ten hour bus ride," she decided.

"We?" Natasha grinned. "Of course, just like before."

You couldn't help but to tease, "What if I had plans?"

Natasha smirked, her shoulders shrugged lazily as she took a perfect shot and mused, "they'd be something to cancel, I believe." The ball, as if on her side, swooshed into the metal net and her suave, inflated ego returned. "One might say this game will go down in history."

You rolled your eyes but a smile overtook your face as she came to deposit a kiss to your lips, as is tradition with these late night practices. The redhead admired you fondly, one hand cupping your cheek as the fingers of her other traced the yellow felt on your back; the perfect figure eights helped to calm her when she felt the push back against her fingertips, a touch to remind her that this—you, were real. For the first time in over three months the woman felt like she could breathe, having you in her arms made her forget her objective.

Then you giggled, teasingly calling out to her, "Natty?"

Natasha hummed, her hazy gaze met yours and your heart melted at the peace you watched settle in her. You felt guilty having to ruin the moment, especially after being the reason she was clinging, but you got it together, and firmly spoke, "get back to the net."

The redhead could've cackled, because with the late time you were actually just an adorable little grump, not your usual intimidating self. She considered challenging you, but she remembered how important the upcoming game is so she pulled you out with her.

"Natasha no," you cried, a body that felt like jello from a long day was not meant for the court. "I am tired." The redhead rolled her eyes and assumed the position, making you scowl, but you mirrored her body anyways because you love her enough to suffer through this.

Ask Natasha, and she'd say you were being dramatic because you were smiling from ear to ear whenever she got around you and yanked you into a rushed kiss. It was a flurry of movements, you could hardly register them, so you were likely not challenging her in the slightest but you were improving her performance.

"If I make this shot," Natasha caught your curious gaze and met it with a smirk; it'd been so long, the sun rays were casted around her and you couldn't believe you ever let her go, she was mesmerizing—to the point that you barely heard her tease, "we get married in Vegas."

"Absolutely n—," you were cut off by the squeal that left your own lips as her body abruptly collided with yours, an arm wrapped and flexed behind you having pulled you in to keep your arms from blocking her. The clang of the net, and your loud protests were shut out of your mind the moment the redhead kissed you, it was full of tenderness, a vulnerability you felt deeply.

"I will make you mine," she promised, and you melted further into her chest. "One day soon, you and I will walk down an aisle and into the rest of our lives, Y/N."

"Yeah?" Natasha pulled back to catch your expression, the tone you took playful and sweet, but your gaze was nothing short of a dreamers. Like you were starstruck by the redheads words, as if they were unexpected and the truth was they probably were to an extent, since you only just heard her true feelings. She nodded and you took in a shallow breath then chuckled in disbelief, this woman was going to be the death of you. "Maybe."

"Care to elaborate?" Natasha was intrigued, not having expected you to accept her faux proposal at the crack of dawn but nonetheless, she was excited just the same. "If you win tonight, I'll let you plan a better proposal."

Natasha grinned wider than she ever had before, at least in front of you, the red tinted her cheeks against her usual expression of perceivable neutrality and you suddenly were being lifted off of the ground. Giggles left the both of you in visible puffs, the cold morning air no match for the warmth of your shared love. A loud engine rumbled in the distance and the redhead caught sight of the bus as it turned into the lot. "Then I guess we shouldn't miss the bus, Mrs. Romanoff..."

Unbeknownst to you, as you laid your aloof head on her chest in the bus meant to lead her to victory, that the ring was already waiting for the day you'd say yes.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x you

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flwrstqr · 3 months

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𓈒 ⭑ JUST ROOMMATES, NOTHING MORE (LIES) ˒ LHS

──── ❛ 𝗐𝖾'𝗋𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗐𝖾'𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾

﹙ 𝓹𝐥𝐨𝐭 ♡𝓹𝐫é𝐜𝐢𝐬 bad boy roommate!heeseung x f!reader 𖥔 𝔀arning not proofread, kissing, skinship, petnames┊GENRE ‎⸝⸝⸝ fluff roommates au, oneshot◞ 𝓐𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 ──

DANi NOTEZ ୨୧ i was screaming while writing this.

YOU NEVER IMAGINED YOU'D END UP SHARING AN APARTMENT WITH HEESEUNG, the university's heartthrob and a certified bad boy. you unlocked the door to your shared apartment, after finishing your study day with your friends.

it was late, and you tiptoed inside, hoping not to wake him. the apartment was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the kitchen where you saw heeseung standing, shirtless, rummaging through the fridge. his biceps flexed slightly as he moved, and you noticed a small tattoo peeking out from beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. his dark hair was slightly tousled. you couldn't help but stare for a moment too long.

"you're back late," he said without turning around, his voice low and smooth.

"yeah, study group ran over," you replied, trying to sound casual as you moved towards your room.

he turned, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "want some?" He held up a bottle of sparkling water, his eyes glinting with something unreadable.

you hesitated. "sure," you said. you sat on the couch, watching as he poured two glasses. he handed you one, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

"you know, people talk about you," you said, taking a sip.

"do they?" he asked, sitting close enough that your knees touched. "and what do they say?"

"that you're rich, spoiled, and a frat boy," you replied honestly.

he chuckled, "is that what you think?"

you looked into his eyes, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. "i don't know what to think."

heeseung leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. "maybe i can change your mind."

before you could react, his lips were on yours. You found yourself responding, your hands tangling in his hair as he pulled you closer. he tasted of mint and something else that was unique, a flavor that was both intoxicating and addictive. heeseung responded by wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against him. the feel of his warm skin under your fingertips made your head spin, and you pressed closer, craving more of his touch.

when you finally broke apart, both breathless, he rested his forehead against yours.

"i've wanted to do that for a while, pretty girl." he admitted, breathless.

"then why didn't you?" you asked.

"because i wasn't sure you wanted me to," he replied, his eyes searching yours.

you smiled, feeling a rush of warmth. "i think i do."

heeseung's smile was slow. "good," he whispered against your lips before capturing them in another kiss.

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Note

i was thinking a whiskey if you please? :) with a side of a bbf!steve rogers? (brother’s best friend and that brother is bucky) idk recently i’ve found similarities in my physical appearance to bucky so it was just a random thought lol- but basically steve is a sweetheart towards the reader and that causes her to crush on him (and ofc cause he’s hot) and the prompt could be "Let him watch." (him being bucky 🤭)

Let Him Watch.

warnings - cursing. allusions to sexual content.

my love, I hope you don't mind, but I decided to make this a college!au. the idea of college bucky and steve is just so delicious to me I couldn't resist <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

A party. A one off visit. The boy you've been in love with since you were a kid.

Your brothers best friend.

The notorious frat boy who's always had a soft spot for you.

There's so many people in this house, you can barely stand. Bass bouncing, bodies moving, sweat dripping down backs. Lights flashing, drinks flowing, hands roaming and exploring.

You're sandwiched between two strangers when you feel a solo cups worth of liquid pour down your back, drenching you. You gasp and turn around, but can't find the culprit. Looking around the room, you search for Bucky, hoping he'll give you the key to his room so you can grab a new shirt from your overnight bag.

You fight your way through the crowd, desperate to find your brother. You can see what seems like a thousand frat boys, not one of them the one you want.

"Are you okay?" someone shouts at you, warm hand finding your shoulder.

It's Steve, who looks a little concerned, crease etched in between his brows.

"Someone threw a drink down my back," you yell back. "I can't find Bucky!"

"He's with Nat, in the backyard. Come with me."

Before you can protest, he's intertwining his fingers with yours, pulling you upstairs.

You've never been in Steve's room at college. Back home, you've been in it a thousand times, but this is different. This is a place for grown up Steve, not a kid anymore Steve. This feels more sacred, somehow.

"Sorry about the mess."

You look around, and can't understand what he's talking about. The place is virtually spotless, everything neat and tidy.

"You're the least messy person I know, Steve."

He laughs and opens his closet, searching through his clothes.

"Which one? Green or blue?"

He holds up two shirts, one in each hand, offering them to you.

"Blue, please. It'll go with my skirt better."

You take it from him, a tiffany coloured tee with ROGERS written on the back. You remember him wearing it, at a practise football tournament a couple of years back.

Without thinking, you peel your wet shirt over your head, standing in front of Steve in your bra. The beer you've been sipping on has lowered your inhibitions, bravery coursing through your veins.

His eyes roam over you before he shakes his head, diverting his gaze.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbles. "Most beautiful girl in the world."

You look at him incredulously, unsure if you heard him correctly.

"What?"

"You heard me. I've never met anyone as pretty as you."

"Steve, you're drunk."

"No drunker than you are."

He takes a step towards you, trailing his fingertips up your arm.

"Shouldn't you be with some college cheerleader or something?" you whisper.

He laughs, low and warm.

"I haven't slept with anyone since I got here."

You scoff.

"You've been here for months. I don't believe that for a second."

"It's true. I've been too busy thinking about-"

He cuts himself off, dancing his fingers up to rest against your cheek. He cradles your face in his hand, looking at you seriously.

"I can't stop thinking about you."

"Me?" you whisper in disbelief.

"Yes, you. I know it's not fair on Bucky, but I don't know what else to do. It's not my fault his sister is so easy to fall in love with."

"You love me?" you choke out, eyes welling with tears. You take a breath to try and ground yourself, half convinced you're dreaming.

"I think I've loved you for years. Do you know how excited I was when Bucky said you were coming to visit? Most exciting thing to happen to me in months. I really miss you."

"I miss you too. So much. It's surprisingly hard being apart."

"I don't want to hurt Bucky," he murmurs.

"Me neither. That's the last thing I want to do. Ever."

"But I'm also sick of denying what I want."

He lunges forward and captures your lips, pulling you into him. It's tender and sweet and full of so many years of things unsaid.

You pull away to rest your forehead on his, breathing him in.

"I love you too, by the way," you whisper against his lips.

The grin he gives you is so bright, it's like looking at the sun. He is your sun. Your light in the dark. The only boy you've ever loved.

A harsh knock on the door startles you both.

"Steve, it's Sam! You in there? I need you to be my beer pong partner!"

"I'll, uh, I'll be out in a second!" Steve yells back.

"Come on, hotshot. They're wondering where you are," you chuckle, leaning up to kiss him chastely.

You throw his shirt on and check your reflection in the mirror, turning around when you hear Steve groan.

"What?"

"You look so good in my clothes."

"Control yourself, Rogers, or else Bucky's going to see."

"Let him watch," he winks, grinning when you laugh.

He links your hands and pulls you out of the door, ready to accept the inevitable consequences of being in love with his best friends sister.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #murphy's 3k celebration #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader fluff #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #captain america x reader #captain america fluff #chris evans #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x barnes!reader #brothersbestfriend!steve rogers #bbf!steve rogers

1K notes · View notes

jaelvr · 6 months

Text

Take my whiskey neat

Home | NCT 127 masterlist |

Requested : no

Prompts ; 10. “You’re too sweet for me.” + 32. “I know you think we aren’t right for each other, but we’ve run into each other too many times for you to tell me that this isn’t fate.”

Pairing : frat! jaehyun x fem! reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : fluff

Word count : 1.6k

Warnings : mutual feelings, opposites, college au, fluff, slightly ooc

Have a great day !!

——————————

His eyes lingered on you as you moved around, a gentle smile on his face. It was a wonder to him, how full of life you constantly were. Here you were, enjoying karaoke with the others, a drunken jungwoo who was accompanying you slurring his words while you were completely sober. He hovered around slightly, leaning against the doorway as he watched, his protective nature settling in while he sipped on his cup of whatever had been put into the frat juice. If someone had told him a year ago, that he, the notorious frat boy would end up in a situationship with one of the 'idol' students, he would've laughed. Yet here he was, completely wrapped around your finger, a lovestruck grin on his face.

He chuckled softly at Jungwoo's slurred attempt at the high note, making his way out of the living room to the kitchen, looking through the cupboards and the fridge. He'd settled on a glass of whiskey, taking it neat and pouring you a drink of coke, knowing you'd rather not drink. "Hey angel." he murmured as he felt your presence behind him, your arms attempting to wrap around his waist. He downed his drink before turning around, moving your arms up to his neck and his hands gently resting on your hips. He was completely lost in you. His mind was shouting at him - you were too sweet, too pure for him. Not one for the party atmosphere like him and his friends, yet you came anyway. Despite your innocent appearance, you still gained a lot of attention from the others, Jaehyun fully aware of the burning gazes from his frat brothers. He couldn't lie, it annoyed him a little - the thought they could even have a chance with you. He was possessive

You hummed, nuzzling into his neck as he gently caressed the back of your head, fingers softly running through your hair. "You doing alright?" he asked, a soft smirk on his face while he took in your sleepy state. "Sleepy." you mumbled, gently placing pecks along his neck, innocently messing with him. He chuckled. There was nothing innocent about the way you were acting - you knew exactly what you were doing to him, yet you were still so pure. He held on tighter, not letting you get away from him so easily. "You're playing a dangerous game, my girl." he huffed, breath hitching as his eyes grew slightly darker with lust.

"No idea what you're talking about." you giggled softly, hands gently resting on his chest, moving up and down. He raised an eyebrow, lowering his head so your faces were inches apart. His hands wrapped around your waist tighter, making it clear you weren't leaving. "You're too sweet for me." he whispered, gazing deeply into your eyes. "Let me make this easy for you." he whispered, holding you close to his body. "Keep doing what you're doing and I won't be able to stop myself." he growled.

"Maybe you should take me to your room." you murmured with a cheeky smirk on your face, knowing he was riled up. His whole body shivered, blood flooding his entire body with lustful heat. That small whisper on your breath was enough to drive him insane. "I want to.." his voice was a ragged whisper, breath hitching as his nostrils flared. "But I don't think I could hold myself, or you, back." he admitted as he stared down at you, his grip around your waist not loosening by a single inch.

"Don't."

----

"What is your problem?" you asked, your face unreadable. He remained still for a moment before taking a deep breath. He had avoided you for days, hoping you would forget about it. He had told himself that it meant nothing after all. That you were just another girl he was with. But when he was around you, it was like his body was on autopilot. His mind and heart were completely consumed by the mere thought of you. He didn't know how to react. He couldn't even find his voice as he stared at you quietly. He felt weak around you. So weak. "Well?" You asked, arms crossed as you waited for a response.

"I…" he trailed off, unsure of what to say. Did he simply come out and tell you it meant more to him than he had originally thought? No.. That would make it sound like he cared. That wasn't possible.

"Well... It's not like it meant anything anyways." he said finally, the look on his face cold as he forced himself to sound indifferent. "Jaehyun-" you started, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You picked up on the subtle hints he was lying, his ears having a red tint on them, growing darker by the second.

He looked away as he felt the familiar sting of shame on his cheeks. He hated the fact that he was lying to you. That he was hiding his real emotions in an attempt to prevent getting his heart broken. Yet he knew deep down that it was going to end up hurting him even worse in the end. He had to protect you from himself. "Stop looking at me like that." he murmured as he tried to shift his expression to something less expressive. “I know you think we aren’t right for each other, but we’ve run into each other too many times for you to tell me that this isn’t fate.” you murmured, stepping slightly closer to him.

Fate? Fate? He didn't believe in fate. He didn't believe in true love. In finding his soulmate. He was a playboy, remember? But now look at him. A playboy so enamoured with a girl who wasn't on his radar. A girl who was the complete opposite of him. He felt his chest constrict as he glanced at you with a helpless, pleading look. Perhaps you were right. Maybe this was destiny.

"Look…" he started, his voice becoming shaky as he attempted to explain himself, "I've been afraid… You make me feel things I've never felt before… Emotions I never thought I would feel. But I…." He paused when he could hear his voice falter. "What if I end up getting you hurt in the end?" he whispered. His body yearned for yours. His mind yearned for you. His heart yearned to belong to only you. He felt the heat throughout his body as his chest rose and fell from the quickening of his breath. He felt the tension in his fingers as his grip increased on your waist, not wanting to let go of you ever."You don't know that." you murmured softly, cupping his face.

"Just give us a try. Please?"

----

You tossed and turned in bed, letting out a soft yawn as you rubbed your eyes before opening them. They settled on him, quietly reading his book as he sat up in bed. One hand holding the book while the other gently scratched your scalp. "Jae??" you whispered after a few minutes of admiring him. "You okay? what're you doing awake at…" you paused, looking at the alarm clock. 3am. He looked up from his book when he heard you stir. You were looking at him with an adorable sleepy expression. Your hair was dishevelled and you were half asleep. It was hard not to notice the bags under your eyes. Yet he couldn't help but find the way you looked absolutely adorable. His gaze shifted down to the clock as he noticed the time. "Couldn't sleep." he muttered, closing his book and laying it on the side table beside the bed.

"Want me to go make us some coffee?" you asked softly, sitting up next to him and gently pecking his cheek. He felt the touch of your plump lips on his cheek, causing his body to shiver as the sensation radiated all through his body. He smiled, running his hand through your tangled hair as he gently pulled you down next to him. "That sounds perfect, my girl." he murmured softly, pulling you against his body, planting kisses on your forehead and cheeks. He missed this. So much. All he wanted was to stay in your arms like this forever. This was easily his favourite place ever.

You got up, pulling one of his shirts on which was oversized on you before you sleepily walked out of the bedroom, down the hallway and to the kitchen, flicking the lights on. You softly hummed to yourself as you got two mugs out, getting everything you needed and putting the kettle on, unaware of him leaning against the doorframe and watching you, a lovestruck smile on his face. Seeing you rummage around the kitchen in one of his oversized T-shirts with messy hair was probably the cutest sight he'd ever seen. His gaze followed you as you moved around the room, humming your little song. He took a deep breath, inhaling your sweet scent as he stared, unable to take his eyes off of you. It was obvious how he had fallen for you and fallen completely hard.

"You like your coffee black right?" you murmured gently, head tilted slightly as you made your coffee while waiting for his response."You know I do, babe." he murmured, moving slowly to the kitchen and leaning against the doorway next to you. "You know how I dislike milk and sugar," he smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist gently, his nose breathing in the scent of your hair as he stared at the back of your head with a loving gaze.

"You're sweet enough."

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lunarsturniolo · 9 months

Text

Body Shots | Frat!Chris

Not in the same universe as Pillow Talk Chris. Just another Frat!Chris au lol

Thank you @querenciasturniolo for proofreading!! This is longer than most of my fics, and there was no way I'd be able to properly check for mistakes.

I nod slightly, my fingers fidgeting with the button of my pants, “You gotta stop moving,” he says, making me still.

He hums a nod at my obedience, his mouth widening into a smile, “Look at you,” he says, “So pretty.”

My hand starts twitching again, a sign of excitement. Chris gently takes my wrist with his free hand and holds it down at my side, “You gotta stop.”

My eyes widened slightly in surprise, and I nodded again. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Chris nods, “It’s okay. Just stay still,” he teases.

Chris teaches Y/N how to take body shots (and it escalates)

Warnings: alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), praise kink if you squint, cnc if you don’t read carefully. MDNI

Masterlist

“Hi,” I gave a sweet smile over the bar, “Can I please have another shot of tequila?”

Chris was working the bar today. After an overwhelming Wine Wednesday and a slightly unsuccessful mixer on Thursday, he didn’t want to go too overboard at the party his frat was hosting. So, there Chris was, working behind the makeshift bar, pouring shots and distributing Truly’s to the girls who were still there.

It was nearing 3 am, and the crowd was beginning to die down. Chris overheard my request and nudged the other bartender, “Got it,” he said, effectively switching places with him.

Chris leans over the bar, his left forearm resting in a few drops of alcohol as he leans closer to me, “You gonna let me take one with you?”

I look up at him with an innocent smile, “It’s gonna cost you.”

He barks a laugh in my direction, “You’re literally in my house,” he says.

I nod, “I am.”

“So you should be giving me somethin’.”

I give Chris a long look and leave a pregnant pause, “I might be open to something.”

Chris pushes himself off the bar and disappears into the kitchen. I take the moment alone to look around the house. I spotted my friend Kylie, whom I lost to a group of girls about 10 minutes ago when No Hands started playing. With a bit of flair, I watch as the DJ starts to play Sexy Bitch, “How fitting,” Chris says, finding his way back to the counter.

I roll my eyes with a small smile playing on my lips, “What do you want?”

“Wanna do body shots?” he asks with a smirk playing on his lips. He holds up his right hand. He was still carrying the bottle of Jose Cuervo. But now, in the palm of his hand, I see a lime peeking out.

My smile falters slightly, “I’ve never done a body shot.”

“Has anyone done one off of you?” He asks.

I shake my head, Chris’s eyes widening with amusement. “First time for everything,” he mumbles. He reaches under the bar, producing a wild berry Truly and passing it to a girl behind me that I hadn’t noticed.

“Who said I wanted to do a body shot?” I tease.

Chris shrugs, “You want to do one. I know you.”

I fold my lips in on themselves, “Okay. Teach me.”

He smiles victorious. “Do you wanna get on the counter?”

I look around once again. The room, by far, isn’t crowded, but there are people here you know you’re going to see again.

“Do I have to?” I finally ask, “It’s kinda embarrassing.”

“Why would that be embarrassing?” Chris deadpans.

“Because everyone can see me.”

“Who the fuck cares?” Chris says, “Now get on the counter, or I’ll spread you out myself.”

I decide it’s in my best interest to get on the counter. I step up into the kitchen before hoisting myself up onto the counter. Chris tells me to lie down, so I oblige. I can feel remnants of the bar from the night staining my bare skin and weighing down my hair. I cringe slightly at the thought before turning to look at Chris, my cheek resting on the cool surface of the bar.

“So, there are two routes I could go,” Chris begins, “I could pour this into your belly button and take the shot out of there, or I could just use a shot glass and call it a day.”

My eyes widened, “Yeah, can we do the second one?”

With a chuckle, Chris nods in agreement. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinkin’, too.”

He turns around and quarters the lime over the sink. He reaches across the bar, hovering a lime wedge over my face. He taps it gently against the parting of my lips, “Open up for me, yeah?”

I nod and widen my mouth, softly biting into the lime, a bit of juice rolling into the back of my throat, “Good girl,” he commends.

I roll my eyes, a slight mumble emitting from the back of my throat due to the lime I’m holding, “Shut up,” I tell him.

Chris gently guides my hands down to my sides and nudges my hip, “Can I lift this up a little?”

I hum a reply, the lime starting to become a proper hindrance. Chris gently tugs at my shirt, making me arch my back so he can lift it to my breasts. My hands itch at my side as he plants a series of wet kisses, making a line from right under my belly button to the waistband of my pants.

A blush forms on my cheeks as his nose nips under my pants, raising the waistband slightly and giving him a view of the black lace panties I had worn to the frat tonight.

He reaches for the salt behind him, grabs a small pinch of it, and sprinkles it over the slight sheen of saliva that is left behind. “Squeeze my hand if you want to stop,” he tells me, putting my hand in his.

Using his free hand, he grabs a small orange glass and flips it upright. He laxly pours a double shot of tequila into the glass, watching me wither under his gaze.

My right hand landed on my stomach, tapping a pattern next to the line of salt, trying my best not to make a mess around me. The music is still going, and I’m sure Kylie is about to text me, telling me she found a guy to go home with. Chris is still distributing drinks to the girls who are coming up to the bar, and I’m sitting with a ball of anticipation in my stomach.

He returns to me with a shy smile, “Sorry, mama, I’m here for real.”

I nod slightly, my fingers fidgeting with the button of my pants, “You gotta stop moving,” he says, making me still.

He hums a nod at my obedience, his mouth widening into a smile, “Look at you,” he says, “So pretty.”

My hand starts twitching again, a sign of excitement. Chris gently takes my wrist with his free hand and holds it down at my side, “You gotta stop.”

My eyes widened slightly in surprise, and I nodded again. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Chris nods, “It’s okay. Just stay still,” he teases.

He gives me one last look before leaning down, his tongue making contact with my stomach. I flinch at the contact, slightly unexpecting, and Chris looks up at me through his eyelashes.

I drink in the sight of him, remembering every detail as his hands push me down against the table. His hair has fallen over his eyes, the dark ringlets tickling my stomach with his painfully slow movements.

Chris lets go of my left wrist, his hand taking hold of the shot he poured. My newly free hand moves without thought, entangling itself into his hair, tugging his further up my body in anticipation.

He hums out a moan with a taunting smile on his face as his tongue dips into my belly button, lingering for an extra moment. The salt sticks to his tongue as he brings the shot glass up to his lips, wrapping them around the glass before quickly throwing his head back. His jaw flexes as he stretches his neck, and I watch as his Adams Apple moves as he swallows.

Chris squeezes my hand as he swallows the bitter flavor, his lips coming down for mine to grab the lime. In a moment of weakness, I suck the lime further into my mouth so he has no choice but to graze my lips with his.

As anticipated, Chris’s lips make lingering contact with mine. His tongue pokes out and wedges itself beneath my lip and into my mouth, grabbing the bottom of the lime and pushing it into his mouth.

Moving back slightly, I keep him from moving any further with a hand in his hair. With hooded eyes, he looks at me as he bites into the lime, some of the juice falling into my mouth and some of it dripping down his chin in a sensual manner.

He turns his head slightly, silently asking to move. I let go of his hair, and he turned his head, spitting the lime out of his mouth and onto the kitchen floor. He looks at me with a smile, “Do you still want your shot?”

“Will it also be a body shot?”

“Whatever you want,” He tells me.

I pull his hand in between us, guiding his ear to my lips, “What I want is to go to your bedroom.”

Chris looks at me, “Beg me.”

“Please, Chris, I wanna go to your room.”

He smirks, “Again,” he tsks.

I roll my eyes in annoyance, “I’m not begging.”

“Then you’re not getting in my room,” he replies.

I leave a long pause before letting out a big sigh, “Please, babe? Can you take me to your bedroom?”

He hums in acceptance, “What do you wanna do in the bedroom, mama?”

I look at him and swallow harshly, “I want you to touch me.”

“But what do you want to do?”

My voice wavers into a whisper, “I want to take a shot off you,” I tell him.

“Mmmm, that’s a good girl,” Chris says, “Always telling me what you want.”

I blush, and Chris moves away to start cleaning up the kitchen. I see him gather a new shot glass, a lime, and some salt before helping me off the counter with a hand on the small of my back.

Together, we walk towards the staircase that’s slightly blocked off- he keeps a hand on the small of my back, nodding a slight hello as we pass his friends.

He lets me in front of him when we get to the stairs, watching my backside as I make my way up, stopping outside his room and waiting for him to unlock it.

With a quick twist of his wrist, the key had unlocked his door, and he led me into his bedroom, sitting on his bed with his knees apart. I made my way closer to him, standing between his knees and giving him a shy smile.

“Can you take your shirt off?” I ask him.

He nods, his hands falling to the hem of his henley, pulling it off in a swift motion, “Where do you want me?” he asks.

I cock my head as I look at him contemplatively, “Maybe just lay down.”

He nods and does as I say, “Can I, um-”

“You want me naked?” he asks.

My cheeks turn hot at his words, “Can I take off your pants?” I ask him.

He laughs at my shy demeanor, “You gotta get naked for me too, then, ma.”

Without a second thought, I drop my hands to my jeans, fiddling with the button before allowing them to pool at my ankles. His hands find the hem of my shirt, this time, pulling it over my head gently. He rests his hands on my back before letting me unbuckle his belt.

“Chris,” I whine lightly.

“Yeah?”

Instead of replying, I push him down onto his bed. His head stayed propped up by some pillows, and he brought his hands behind his head so he could watch me. The two of us were naked, and I finally decided to let the looks of him sink in.

His cock was sporting a healthy erection, just as arousal was beginning to pool between my legs- we were clearly both turned on.

“C’mere,” he says, motioning for me to step towards him. “Wanna see if my baby’s worked up for me.”

I happily make my way over to Chris’s head, legs spread slightly for him to feel my cunt. Without a moment's rest, the pads of his fingers made their way to my bare skin, feeling the warm, plush skin and rubbing my clit slightly to create some friction. I moan lightly at his touch before he pulls his fingers away and rests them on my bottom lip.

“You wanna taste yourself for me, mama?” he asks.

I dip my chin as a nod, his fingers now resting on the parting of my lips. My tongue darts out at his long digits, coating them lightly as I taste myself on his fingers, making Chris moan in appreciation.

I hollow out my cheeks before taking his fingers out of my mouth, a small smile growing on my face.

“Gonna use this on my stomach, okay?” he asks, referring to the fingers I had in my mouth seconds prior.

Wordlessly, I nod as Chris drags his fingers down his happy trail- from the bottom of his belly button to the base of his cock- at an agonizingly slow pace. My eyes watch his fingers desperately as they mimic the exact path my tongue will take.

I clear my throat, “Salt?” I ask.

“Yeah, baby. Add some salt.”

I took the metal salt shaker that made its way onto his nightstand and used it to disperse salt into a thin line along his body. Chris reaches under his bed and produces a bottle of tequila, “From my stash,” he informs me.

I laugh, filling up a shot glass most of the way, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the thought of taking another double tonight.

I pick up a lime wedge and hand it to Chris. Dismissively, he sets it back on the table, “You won’t need that. Promise,” he tells me, a hand making its way into my hair and pulling me close to his mouth.

I can feel his breath fanning on my face as I study his eyes up close for the millionth time tonight, “Okay,” I agree.

Chris hums with satisfaction, “You’re such a good, obedient girl for me, baby. Always listening to me so well.”

This time, I hum in reply, the praise making me feel extra warm. “I wanna listen to you, Chris,” I tell him. My lips pucker up slightly before placing a small, aromantic peck on his lips.

He smiles at me, “Good idea, baby.” He lets my hair go loosely, allowing me to lean back. “You’re gonna tell me if anything is too much, right?” he confirms.

“Yeah, Chris. I’ll let you know. You get to use me until I say otherwise.”

I watch as a satisfying grin spreads on his face, “You’ve always been my favorite girl, you know?”

With a small laugh, I bring my face down to be level with his naval. He gathers my hair into a makeship ponytail in one hand and holds my shot glass for me in another, “I need to see you, mama.”

I smile, my tongue darting out to lick my lips, “Okay.”

Looking at Chris out of the corner of my eye, I bring my tongue to the beginning of the line of salt, licking slowly down to the base of his cock. My left-hand finds his balls, fondling with them lightly as I make my way down to his cock.

He lets out a moan, “When you get there, keep your tongue out, baby. I wanna feed you your shot.”

I turn my head towards him, giving him a slight nod, my tongue still working its way down his body. Giving the base of his cock a light kiss, I tilt my head up for Chris to pour the shot.

Feeling the alcohol glide down my throat immediately, without the need to swallow or for a chase, made me gag lightly. I closed my mouth, savoring the flavor of salt on my tongue before Chris moved my head.

Directing me down further to where his cock is, he rests my cheek on his left thigh. My tongue darts out, lapping around the base of his cock as my hand continues to play with his balls.

“That’s right, baby,” he praises me, “You can get up on the bed if you want.”

With a nod, I crawl up onto the bed, my mouth moving from the base to the tip.

I begin slowly licking the tip, watching the precum develop, and swallowing it as it comes. With a keen fascination, I loosen my jaw and begin to put his cock into my mouth.

Chris lets out a groan, “Fuck.” He reaches around his body, one hand finding my breasts. He rolls my nipple between his fingers and fondles my breasts, eliciting a soft moan from the back of my throat and around his tip.

I continue to push his cock into my mouth before I gag lightly and call it my limit. My hand jerks off what is left outside my mouth, and Chris begins to lose it.

His hands are tugging at my hair, and he is gently pushing my head forward onto his cock, loving the way my throat closes around the tip when I gag. Chris was in a state of euphoria.

“You good, mama?” he chokes out, pulling me off his cock slightly for reassurance.

Instead of verbally answering, I push his cock further into my throat, humming a reply, sending vibrations up through his body.

My tongue flatted against the underside of his cock, my head moving faster as I prompted Chris to fuck my mouth. His thrusts grew from wary to forceful as I began to gag, drool, and moan around him with each movement he made.

Tears grew at the brim of my eyes from the intensity, “Do you like it when I’m rough with you, mama?”

Unable to reply, I affectionately squeeze his thigh, “I know, baby. It feels so good to please me, huh?” he says. His hand leaves my nipple, entangling it into my head roughly so he has more control to ride out his orgasm.

With an especially deep thrust, I let out a long groan, my eyes rolling back slightly with satisfaction. Chris’s cock begins to twitch in my mouth, and I instinctively hollow out my cheeks, sucking harshly on his shaft.

Chris looks down at me with a smile, “I’m close, mama, I promise. Then I’ll fuck you good as a thank you.”

I nod, my voice significantly hindered by his cock lodged in my throat. With a final few thrusts from Chris and a gargling noise that arose from my mouth, he emptied himself into my mouth with a loud, resonating moan.

Giving me a minute to recover, he slid his cock out from my mouth and found a water bottle on his nightstand to feed me.

With a smile, I look at him, “I love having your cock in my mouth.”

With a small laugh, he rests his hand under my chin, wiping away some cum that didn’t quite make it into my mouth, “I love fucking your mouth, baby.”

I bite my lip in excitement, allowing him to use me as he chooses one again.

“Lie down, hmm?” he asks.

I do as I'm told, taking his spot on the bed as he straddles my body. He leans down towards the mattress, his lips finding my cunt. I can feel his breath fan across my body as he begins to lap his tongue in a circular pattern, hitting each part of my cunt.

Unceremoniously, his teeth begin to nip at my clit, creating the perfect amount of friction to make me moan out loud- probably loud enough to be heard over the music playing downstairs.

“Chris, please,” I beg.

“What, mama?” he asks, coming up for air with a small pant. His lips were wet and puffy from the time he spent attacking my clit, and I could see a bit of my arousal begin to make its way down his chin.

“I need you inside me, please,” I whimper.

Chris hums, sending my hips upward with a jolt. The action makes him laugh, which in turn does not help my squirming, “I’ll get inside ya,” he promises.

With one last feathery kiss to my clit, he sends a series of kisses up from my naval to my lips. By the time he has reached my lips, there are drops of my cum trailing up my body as a result of my cum dripping off Chris’s chin.

He leaves a few soft kisses on my lips before I bring his head to mine, holding it there while I nip at his bottom lip. He smiles, sliding his tongue into my mouth and allowing me to take control of the kiss as he adjusts himself against me.

I feel the tip of his cock poking at my entrance before he slowly buries it into my cunt. I let out a gasp, my jaw falling slack as Chris’s tongue laps at the inside of my mouth, trying to regain my attention.

“C’mon, mama, I know you can take me,” he tells me.

“I can take you,” I parrot back.

“Yeah, baby,” Chris agrees, “You’re doing so good.”

He stills for a moment, and I look down between us to see his cock has filled me completely, and he’s allowing me a moment to adjust. I grind my hips against him, my clit rubbing against the base of his cock, making both of us groan.

Looking back up at him, I give him a quick peck of encouragement to start thrusting again. He gently rolls his hips before slowly pulling out and roughly pushing back in.

He began to make this a rhythmic approach, filling the silence between his skin and slapping on yours with a series of breathy moans and chants of both of your names filling the room.

Chris kept his mouth atop mine and intertwined our fingers as he continued to fuck me.

My mouth fell open, and I felt my pussy begin to quiver around his large cock. My orgasm was blinding, leaving me gasping and moaning into Chris’s mouth, giving him ammunition to go faster and harder.

With his bed rocking underneath us and the sound of wet skin repeatedly hitting each other, Chris finally released into my tender pussy.

Pulling out slowly, his hand brought mine to his mouth, leaving feathery kisses on each knuckle.

“You okay, mama?” he asks, “Do you need me to get you anything?”

With a shrug, I reply, “Can I please have another shot of tequila?”

915 notes · View notes

nysrage · 8 months

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THE HOUSE PARTY, Onyankopon.

synopsis: after long nights of studying & days of grueling tests, you needed an outlet to relax. you didn’t expect to do it with your crush though.

content: ony’s an alpha, college au, house party, sororities & fraternities, alcohol, explicit language, sexual tension, college ‘crush’ that’s rlly yo man, a smidge of fluff, & smut.

nys note: would you believe this was all inspired from the twitter link below… lol it’s giving ‘options’ remix for ony.

Midterms had finally come to an end and everyone on campus could finally take a deep breath. whether they passed or failed, they were all looking for an outlet to get school work off their mind. Including you. The first year of college has been an adjustment, juggling school and finally being on your own. exploring different sides of yourself, making friends and losing bonds that you thought would last forever. it could all pile up at times. plus the overwhelming tears were growing old, but you couldn’t deny that the main reason you seeked a party was because you wanted to see your lil ‘friend’ tonight too. midterms had the two of you so busy with little time to speak focused on nothing but your education. so you decided to join the scene with your girls.

The street of the apartment complex was full of people either just arriving, talking, smoking, or waiting to get behind that door of the house party. Thrumming of the speakers could be heard before even reaching the top of the stairs, the opening door pouring out clouded smoke soon as it opens. You and your group of friends navigate through the crowd. Each of your index fingers locked into eachothers belt loops so no one could get lost or pulled away without notice. The house dimmed and filled with ambient led lights. People of all different backgrounds crowded to each corner with either a cup, blunt, or some ass in their hands. Letting loose for the night and celebrating their time as a college student.

You and your group of 3 settled behind the enclosed circle of people dancing and catching ass. Finally happy with the view you had of everyone and the exits of the place, throwing back a couple shots and dancing to the music. Recording the whole moment on the camcorder your influencer bestie brought to vlog her stay. The content being provided to her back to back since the night began, and even more more since that whistle of the sorrors and frats began. The intro of ‘another nasty song’ oozing out of the speakers, groups of people surrounding the greeks as they lineup for their strolls.

The alphas happening to be right next to you and your friends, performing their stroll so perfectly. That black and old gold contrasting nicely against their skin. One alpha in particular catching your eyes. Onyankopon, your lil friend that you found yourself pinning over since you stepped onto campus. Nice chocolatey smooth skin, thick brows, full lips, and a small faded curly fro. Dimpled cheeks and pretty white teeth on display as he strolls, glancing over the surrounding people until they landed on you. Looking you over real good, biting down on his bottom lip between their signature words “Who You Wit?” Many of their seducing looks they give to their audience.

The dj transitioning into the throwbacks once the strolls were done. ‘party’ by beyoncé filling the room, as your favorite alpha towered over you. “okayy, friend! you lit huh?” you giggled, giving him a playful pat to the chest. “What’s goin’? Ain’t seen you in a minute.” acknowledging your nosy friends with a nod, busy whispering and betting on when y’all would cut the act. “Been out the way, y’all new jackets are nicee!” Toying with the zipper on his fraternities varsity jacket, looking himself over slightly with a smirk. “Preciatee it, preciatee it.. You look good too.” His monotone voice barely audible over the blasting music. Leaving you leaning in to hear his words best you could, “Huh? Couldn’t hear you.” just for ony to wrap his arm around your waist and bring you close, sexy voice speaking intently in your ear. “You look good as fuck right now.”

“Thank you.” whispering back shyly, all flustered and looking anywhere but his face. Refusing to fall into the trap of men, but the longer you two talked to each other the more you found yourself wanting him more. He was upperclass, only by a year but he was still very known around camp, and not bad looking in the least. Walking different girls to class, seducing woke with one look during his stroll, and always dressed to impress whether it’s chill or not. You wanted nothing to do with being another girl in his roster, but the two always seemed to gravitate towards each other.

Ony glanced behind him, scoping out the small space. “C’mere..” taking your hands in his and pulling you close to dance, swaying your body back and forth. Ony bending down to your height to whisper in your ear, “Missed you pretty girl.” His voice deep and smooth, traveling from your ear and straight to your core. “Looking and smelling all delicious tonight.” running his hands along your hips, admiring the slight fit your put on for the function. “Someone’s had a few, been partying good huh?” Dodging those little comments, trying your best to steer the convo but ony wasn’t having it. Not tonight. “This cool n’ all, I was really tryna be on sum chill tonight.”

“Really? after being tied down to class these past few weeks.” not convinced of anything but ony was persistent. “even after being tied down.”

Replying with a small hum, the tension between you was louder than the speakers in the room. Ony just staring at your pretty face without much to say, nerves leaving you rocking back and forth. “what..?”

“tryna follow me? need to talk to you.” Maybe it was the liquid courage but tonight you’d take your chances even if it was for one night only. So you let your friends know of your whereabouts, and followed him to his room.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Walking around the space, taking it all in. Very neat, cozy, and smelled of mahogany teakwood. His desk area full of intricately placed papers and photos of his personal achievement, family, and friends. The click of the door and his voice pulls your mind away from the frames. “Why you keep playing?”

“We’ll your bold all of a sudden..” You huffed, typing away nervously at your phone. Randomly in your bestfriend message thread just to avoid those pretty brown eyes you always got so lost in. “M’serious. Why you playing games?”

“This got to be the liquor talking.” You chuckled, pushing your hair from in your face. “I don’t play games ony..” Finally meeting his eyes, arms crossed as the two of you went back and forth. “Mmcht, ain’t no need for liquid courage. This oblivious shit ain’t getting me where I need to be, and that’s with you.”

“There’s nothing oblivious here ony..” Trying to convince not only him but yourself. You couldn’t grow weak in the knees the first time he pressed your relationship, not when he could be filling your ear with anything he wants. “So you can tell me face to face that you don’t want me too..?” Voice sweet and sincere. His eyes darting nervously around your face waiting for your answer. Not one cocky or proud bone in his body that led you to believe he was feeding you bullshit for just another notch in his belt. All of those walls falling just enough to let him in, finally admitting to yourself that the attraction was mutual. “I c-can’t, cause I want you too.”

Ony takes a step forward, a small smile on his lips from your nervousness. Thumb lifting your chin to put that pretty face on display for him. Running the pad of his thumb along the soft skin of your face. “You know you my baby, lemme in that pretty mind of yours. So I can get to know all of you and make you mine.” and those words were sealed with the soft feeling of his lips on yours. A small peck that had you going back on every single word you meant to stand on. “You gone stay with me..?” Nodding your head with a soft smile. Ony pulling you in for yet another kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth and intertwining it with yours. Swallowing the whimper you gave him when his strong hand collided with your ass. Kiss so hot and steamy that it lead you right into his bed, where you’ve wanted to be for as long as the two of you were friends.

“o-ohh my godd!” Moaning out loud as you wanted, every sound from his room drowned out by the thrumming speakers in the distance. House party still going strong whether he’d been occupied or not.

Lips red and swollen from how much you’ve been biting down hard on your lip while ony had you in doggy, taking his deep strokes. Moans falling constantly from your lips while your warm slick pooled around his pretty brown dick. Filling you up so full and caressing that sweet spot within, strong hips colliding with your ass as ony watches the recoil. “Mmm, damn that pussy feel so fucking good.” hand gripping at your fleshy hip, eyes focused on where the two of you were connected. listening to the beautiful sounds of his heavy balls slapping against your throbbing clit, and the gushing squelch of your pussy had him losing himself inside you. His moans and groans mixing with yours as he gave you every inch of that dick. “mh—ouu, shittt. mhmm.” voice shaking from that fast approaching nut he’d been holding out on. Wanting a few more out of you himself before he was finished with you.

“Yes onyy, you fuck me so good!” but after these few words from you, he found himself letting go. “Yea, you like this dick?” hips pistoning faster, pounding into you hard and steady leaving your eyes meeting the back of your skull. Wet two-toned pussy gripping him tight to suck him in deeper, as a strings of incoherent moans were exchanged between you too. “ima give you all the dick you want.” Angling his hips towards that spot that greeted him with a stream of squirt, drenching both your thighs and his pelvis. Dick barely staying inside from how wet you were for him. Pulling out and leaving hot streams of nut on your ass, panting and moaning as he came back to. That heavy feeling of something sitting atop of your ass never fading, “Your still hard..?” you questioned, looking back at him with your pretty fucked out face. Giving him that last push to have him standing at attention again.

“you thought i was done?” he chuckled, sinking back into you with a loud squelch.

#nys works.ᐟ ᥫ᭡#nys twitter linkss 🔗#black writers #aot smut #aot onyankopon #aot onyankopon smut #aot onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon x black!reader #onyankopon x chubby reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x black!reader #onyankopon x black reader smut #onyankapon smut #ony x black reader

1K notes · View notes

celestie0 · 8 months

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.5 these feelings are hard to find

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

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 5/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 10.4k

a/n. aaaa this chapter took me a while because i was having some pretty bad writer's block. i seriously can't believe it crossed over 10k words, i very poorly planned how much i wanted to get done by this chapter, but i didn't feel like splitting it into two so oh wellll. hope you enjoy! pls excuse any typos we all live on a floating rock.

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“I really don’t understand why I’m here…” you’re grumbling as you, Mina and Todo make your way up the pavement of the driveway leading to the house party. You glance to your right where Mina and Todo are holding hands, arms swinging as they keep pace together.

It was finally Friday after a particularly long and stressful week, so you were extremely excited to just spend the rest of the night relaxing at home. You had already poured yourself a glass of wine when you returned from your evening class and were sitting on the couch with a blanket on, scrolling through Netflix, when Mina approached you while she was talking to Todo on the phone. She mentioned something about an SAE party tonight that she wanted you to come along for and Todo said he’d extend his other invite to you. When you politely declined, Mina slumped down on the couch and told Todo she had no interest in going unless you also came. And then Todo was bribing you with a hundred bucks. Easiest hundred bucks you’ve ever made.

“Don’t be a downer. You’re here because I think you’ve been working hard and you need to relax a bit,” Mina chirps, now clinging onto Todo’s arm, “and there’s no better way to relax than getting drunk.”

“I could be getting drunk at home,” you mumble to yourself, the night you were imagining for yourself all day being very different from where you find yourself now.

The guy that was bouncing for tonight’s party was scanning people’s phones and engaging in some small talk before allowing people inside. He was pretty handsome and you wondered if there was some sort of requirement written in the rules to the SAE fraternity that they must be good-looking to join.

“Hello, my brother,” Todo says as he approaches, smacking him so hard on the back in greeting that the man stumbles over slightly and sends an irritated glare Todo’s way before he regains his balance.

“Hey, big guy, are these your invites?” He gestures towards you and Mina, his eyes landing on yours and lingering for a moment. You blink at him.

“Yes, this here’s my lovely lady, and this here’s my lovely lady’s friend,” Todo says with a faux suave that only makes you narrow your eyes at him. The man at the entrance sighs and nods before stepping out of the way and motioning the three of you towards the entrance.

The minute you enter, you immediately realize that this party felt very different from the one you were at last week. It was slightly less crowded, but there were still plenty of people bustling around the large expanse of the ground floor with loud rap music that practically shook the walls. It was dark, much more edgy, with the only source of light being the sporadic flashing of lights over by the DJ’s booth. You felt disoriented from the atmosphere, and the smell of weed and alcohol only further dazed you.

“This is insane,” you barely hear Mina say beside you over the music as she looks around the expansive interior of the house. In between the brief flickering lights that lit up people’s faces, you register that Todo is grinning at her as though he was entirely satisfied by her reaction.

You only make it a few steps inside, trailing behind Mina and Todo, before feeling the need to excuse yourself to get away from the intense environment for a second. “Hey, I think I’m going to use the restroom real quick. Todo, do you have any idea where it is?” You feel like you’re shouting just to be heard.

He looks over his shoulder at you. “There are some downstairs but they probably have lines. You could try upstairs.”

You give him an appreciative nod and head over to the base of the staircase at the right, glancing up before making your ascent. There didn’t seem to be anyone else upstairs, which surprised you, but you figured you were just in luck and began to walk up step by step until reaching the top. The music downstairs begins to sound muffled as you turn around the railing post and make your way to the left into the narrow hallway likely leading towards the bedrooms. There's a white door somewhere in the middle of the hallway that could only be either a closet or a bathroom. You wrap your hand around the cold metal door handle and twist, satisfied that it wasn’t locked.

The mumbling noises of people inside doesn’t register in your mind until you’ve already cracked the door open half-way, and your entire body recoils in the immediate rush of embarrassment washing over you as you take in the sight of two people, a man and a woman, getting handsy with one another in the bathroom.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” is all you manage to squeak out, blinking dumbly at the scene.

You’re quick to avert your gaze and about to close the door, incredibly mortified by what’s just happened, when the familiar silhouette in front of you causes you to freeze. You slowly lift your line of sight from the bathroom floor until Gojo Satoru is looking you straight in the eye from where he has a girl on the bathroom counter clinging to his shirt.

“I…” you stutter, face feeling immediately hot as you let go of the door handle and look away from his shocked face. “Sorry,” you say again, this time barely above a whisper, before turning on your heel and making your way down the hallway in such a hurry that you don’t even realize you’re going the wrong way. You hear a feminine voice echo something in the bathroom like what the fuck are you doing?, and then there’s footsteps following after you that sound faster than your own. Ignoring the call of your name, you practically storm into one of the bedrooms, entirely relieved that it was empty, and can only take a couple of steps inside before a hand grabs at your wrist. A chill runs down your spine from the contact.

“Wait, y/n,” Gojo says behind you from where he’s followed you inside, sounding like he’s out of breath. His hand is still holding onto you, keeping you still and you can feel the roughness of his calluses against your skin. When you turn around to face him, he’s close to you and you see his chest is heaving, his hair is disheveled, his shirt is wrinkled at the front and there’s a crease in his brow.

Your eyes don’t stay on his for long before you’re looking away from him again. “I’m…I’m really sorry, that was really awkward,” you say with a forced laugh and an attempt to wiggle yourself free of his grip but he’s unrelenting. The image of his fingers sliding up that girl’s top was still burned in your vision and no amount of excessive blinking at the carpet beneath your feet seemed to make it disappear.

“No, I’m sorry, I was supposed to lock…” his trails off and you notice there’s a rough quality to his voice, “that was just-, we were just-”

You finally brave yourself to look up at him and he somehow seems closer than before, his face just inches away from yours and his eyes briefly flickering to your lips before he meets your gaze with a tense expression on his face. You haven’t seen him look so flustered before, and you’ve certainly never heard him struggle this much to find his words either.

His other hand rubs the back of his neck as he closes his eyes in what looks like frustration, then takes a deep breath to seemingly calm himself down before speaking again. “She’s…We’re just friends,” is all he manages to say.

There’s a silence between the two of you as you blink at him and he stares at you, his thumb pressing into the skin of where his hand was still wrapped around your wrist. You try really hard to bite back the words you’re about to say, but no amount of willpower could’ve helped you. Your chin tips up, looking at him more decisively, and his gaze is flickering to your mouth again. “Just friends…can’t say I’ve ever tried to get my friends naked in the bathroom at a party before.” You didn’t understand why your tone came off so hostile, but it felt good to criticize his choice of words for some reason.

His lips press together, gaze narrowing slightly and eyebrows furrowing further at your words. He leans in closer to the point where your senses were entirely occupied by him and it was impossible to think of anything else. “Well, you weren’t supposed to see that.” His eyes are contrite but his tone is vexed.

You relax your body language and use your other hand to forcefully slide his hand off of your wrist, encountering some resistance from him before he acquiesces. Your skin tingles from the absence of his touch and you take a step backwards away from him. His posture straightens slightly, eyes continuing to dart across the features of your face and wide in anticipation as though he was patiently waiting for you to say something that would put him at ease.

“It’s fine,” you say, trying your best to keep your voice as level as possible, “I accidentally walked in on something I shouldn’t have. You don’t owe me any sort of explanation for it.” Gojo seems to tense up even further at your words, his expression briefly contorting into one of confusion before it reverts to concern again.

You walk around him towards the bedroom door and see him in your periphery watching every step you take until you eventually exit the room. This time, you don’t hear his footsteps pursuing you from behind. It’s only when you make it past the bathroom, not even daring to take a look inside of it, and about halfway down the hallway that you unsteadily let out the breath you were holding in. Your hand takes its place over your chest in a flimsy attempt to calm your heart down as you quickly make your way down the stairs. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach and you knew you just had to get as far away from here as possible.

You’re barely able to spot Mina from where she stood with Todo in a corner near the backyard screen door, and briefly notice that Nanami, Geto, as well as a few of their other teammates were clustered there too. You politely acknowledge their pleasant greetings to you as you approach Mina, pulling her to the side.

“Woah, hey, what’s going on?” She asks, stumbling a little bit and you let go of her sleeve.

“I’m going to go home, not feeling well, I think I just got my period,” you easily come up with a lie, “Nobara says she’ll pick me up.” In truth, you were planning on just calling an Uber for home, but you knew that Mina wouldn’t let you go home by yourself. You didn’t want your confusing and heightened emotions ruining her night.

“Wait, are you sure? I’ll come with you,” she’s quick to say, taking a step towards you but you shake your head.

“No, it’s fine, stay here with Todo,” you demand, “and call me if you need me to pick you up. I’ll let you know when I’m home.” You give her a little hug and she’s standing there confused before hesitantly nodding, and then you make your way to the door. The loud music, flashing lights, and blurred faces around you were so intensely stimulating that when the cold air from outside finally hit your skin, you felt like you were human again.

The Uber comes by in less than ten minutes as you wait for it on the sidewalk. The driver drops you off at the entrance of your apartment complex and the biting chill of the air has you wrapping your arms around yourself as you wait for the elevator to take you upstairs. Glancing down at your phone to check the time, you see a message from Mina asking if you were home yet. You also see that it’s nearly one in the morning.

Finally making your way inside your apartment, you lock the door behind you and text Mina that you’re home, then slide down with your back against the front door until you’re sitting on the floor. The heat inside was so comforting that you just spent a moment to warm yourself up and just breathe.

Memories of your conversation with Gojo from just half an hour ago instantly come to the forefront of your mind and you’re shutting your eyes to try and repel the thoughts away. Still so embarrassed that you walked in on him making out with someone, your brain decides to mortify you even further by asking what if you had walked in a few moments later instead? What would you have seen then?

You squish your cheeks between your hands defeatedly before letting out a sigh and drawing your legs in towards you, hugging your knees to your chest. You didn’t understand why you were so affected by what you saw. You’ve only met Gojo twice, and you knew even before you met him that he was that kind of person. He had a reputation of being involved with a lot of women, so his rather eager desire to explain himself to you just puzzled you even further.

Standing up, you head over to your bed and flop down on it. Your wrist still burns with the memory of the heat of his hand, and all you can see behind the lids of your eyes when you close them is the sight of him so close to you, stealing glances at your lips.

Somewhere along the night as you drifted in and out of sleep, Mina called to let you know that she was on her way home. When you hear her open the bedroom door and set her purse down on the nightstand near her bed, your body finally convinces you that it’s okay to rest, and that’s exactly what you do.

---

The weekend is over in the blink of an eye, simply not enough time to mope around in bed, and you’re walking out of your last class of the day on Monday. You check your phone pretty much every other minute to see if Gojo has sent you any messages regarding their new practice schedule for the week, which you’re sure he’s received by now, but there’s nothing. The last messages sent between the two of you were before the party on Friday, and an uneasy feeling has been settling in. You spent most of last week appreciating how helpful he was being so far, but you didn’t even consider the possibility that he could rescind his help at any time too.

You head over to the Department of Communication & Journalism building, making your way up the stairs until you reach the graduate division floor and walk down the hallway to Room 212. As you make your entry, a toasty and rich scent overtakes your senses.

“Ah, y/n, hello! So good to see you, thanks for coming by. I missed seeing you last week,” you hear Utahime say as she sets down a cup of coffee for you on the conference table in the middle of the room.

“Sorry, I was just…very mentally occupied last week,” you admit to her, setting your tote bag down on one of the chairs before taking the seat where the cup of coffee was placed, the fragrance instantly waking you up as you take a sip. “Thank you. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you, just working through my thesis,” she says with a sigh and takes the seat next to you. “Just a few more months…just a few more months, and I’m free!”

You smile at her and watch as she pulls out her laptop, the start-up noise chiming before she starts clicking away at the million tabs that were open. “Did you receive the email I sent you for the newsletter shots?” You ask.

Utahime was a 4th-year graduate student in journalism and was also the head of the school’s newsletter. She has so graciously allowed for Film Club photography shout-outs in every monthly issue for the past couple of years.

She nods. “I did,” she says, resting her elbow on the table and tapping her index finger to her chin, “how come I didn’t see any of your photos in there, though?”

You sigh, sulking your shoulders slightly as you peer down into the brown liquid of your cup and watch the steam evaporate. “I didn’t really take great pictures this month.”

“Aw, well are you working on anything right now?” She returns to clicking away at tabs.

“Yeah, I’ll be taking film photos out on the field of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni next week. It’s for an assignment,” you tell her and watch as her face lights up.

“That’s wonderful! That’s a pretty big gig, they usually only let professionals out on the field. How were you able to secure that?” Utahime asks you as she tips her head to the side.

“Ah…let’s just say I have some sort of deal with one of their players?” You say. Your heart drops a little when you remember the lack of communication from Gojo as of recently, wondering if he was able to get that referee permission for you.

“Which one?” Utahime asks with a teasing smile, leaning over to nudge you with her elbow.

“Gojo Satoru,” you say and then she’s pulling away from you and rolling her eyes, an annoyed look making its way onto her face. You let out a small laugh at her behavior. “Okay, well now I’m curious.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh as she peers beyond the window of the room. “I was his TA when he was just a wee-little freshman. He was always showing up late to class and trying to flirt his way out of completing assignments,” she grumbles, “is he still a little brat?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking way harder about her question than she had probably intended. “I don’t know…I don’t really know him all that well.” You look down at your hands. Despite the fact that you’ve only known Gojo for a short while, for some reason you felt like you did know him well. You knew the kinds of things that made him smile, you knew the look in his eyes when he was deep in thought about something. You knew what the heat from his body felt like, what the fragrance of his clothes smelled like.

Utahime is silent for a moment as she studies you. “Hmm,” she’s humming next to you, “well, tell you what, send me your photos when you’re done with them. If they’re good, I’ll use your photos for the sports recap in the newsletter instead of the professional ones we get sent from the school. I can compensate you for them as well.”

Your eyes widen as you look at her, jaw dropping a bit as you blink in disbelief. “Utahime…you would do that for me?”

She gives you a smile and a wink. “Of course, talent helps talent. And it’s my newsletter, I can do whatever I want with it. Besides, you want to get into the school’s film graduate program, right? I’m sure it would look great on your application that you’ve had some of your portfolio published to the school’s official reports. The photos have to be good, though.” She points a finger at you and gives you a strict look.

You feel tears prickle in your eyes from her words, so overwhelmingly grateful for her support, and can barely whisper out a thank you before she’s rushing over to the other table to grab a tissue box and set it in front of you.

“Gosh, why do all my undergrads cry in my presence?” she complains as she pulls out a tissue and hands it to you.

You dab it to your eye. “Because you have such wholesome mom energy.”

You say goodbye to Utahime after discussing a few more things and then leave the room. You check your phone and your heart skips a beat when you see Gojo’s name in your notifications.

|| 1:43PM Gojo Satoru: Hey, just wanted to let you know I was able to get that referee permission for you for next week

You let out a tiny gasp when you read his words then clutch your phone to your chest in relief. Utahime’s offer of the prospect of getting published in the school’s newsletter gave you a large sense of purpose, and you felt like it was time to take this assignment of yours extremely seriously to secure the opportunity. And Gojo was the one with the power to help you do that.

|| 1:52PM You: thank you so much, i really don’t know how to repay you

You sigh as you make your way to the stairs, grateful that you were getting some communication from him. The big game on the 28th was next Thursday, and you really needed to practice taking photos with your film camera. You open Instagram again to ask him for his practice schedule, but you see that he had sent you another message.

|| 1:54PM Gojo Satoru: No need to repay me, consider us even. Also sorry for the late notice, but we’re having a formal practice match in about an hour with one of the teams we played against earlier in the season. Do you want to come by?

After reading his message, you quickly shuffle your tote bag open and peer inside to see that you did indeed bring your film camera with you to campus today. Excited, you type out a response.

|| 1:55PM You: yes! i’ll hesd over right now

|| 1:55PM You: *head over

|| 1:55PM You: lol

You see little bubbles indicating typing in the left side corner.

|| 1:55PM Gojo Satoru: Meet me by the art sculpture, I’ll walk you over

You blink at the message for a few seconds, starting to type out a message before deleting it, and doing that a couple more times over. When someone tries to shuffle around you from behind, you notice you were standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs so you step away and lean against the wall. You press your lips together in consideration as you realize that today would be the first time you’re going to see Gojo again after that awkward interaction that you had with him at the party last Friday, and you were really not sure how you were going to feel having to be alone with him again.

|| 1:57PM You: that’s okay, i don’t want to trouble you

His response is instant.

|| 1:57PM Gojo Satoru: Just meet me there

Once you’ve made your way across campus, you spot Gojo sitting on the concrete barrier surrounding the art sculpture by the fields practically right in front of the please do not sit on the concrete barrier sign. His head is turned away from the direction you were approaching from, arms crossed at his chest and one of his legs impatiently bouncing up and down. You notice he’s wearing the school’s colors, a teal blue shirt and gray shorts that had some highlights of a sunset yellow, as well as gray athletic soccer shin socks and cleats. He looks so ridiculously sports boyfriend that you have to shake your head to try and physically fight the effect of how attracted you were to him.

He must’ve heard you approaching as you crossed the street towards him since he turned his head in your direction. He’s wearing a black sports headband across his forehead that’s pushing the hair up out of his face and you’re startled by the intensity of his blue eyes on you. When he stands up, his arms fall to his side, making you sad that you could no longer shamelessly stare at the way his biceps flexed when he had his arms crossed.

“Hey,” he says simply, staying perfectly still where he stood.

There was only one way to dissolve an awkward situation, and that was to pretend like it never happened in the first place. You tip your head to the side, giving him a curious look before skipping right on up to him. “Hello, there,” you cheerfully say. He looks at you with a borderline annoyed expression.

“You’re in a good mood today,” he comments, his voice sounding deeper than usual. Almost tired.

“Yes, very good mood,” you chirp as you walk past him, “I just got a very good offer.”

The sound of the bottom of his cleats on the sidewalk follow after you as you head in the direction of the softball batting cages. It's not long before he emerges at your side in your periphery. “What kind of offer?” You can tell from his tone that he was trying to restrain his curiosity.

“Oh, you’ll see,” you say as you look up at him and smile. He gives you an irritated expression due to your lack of transparency but you continue to skip forward until you’ve made it to stairs that lead up to the grassy hills.

Gojo’s about a step’s distance behind you as you lightly frolic across the land, your heavy tote bag bumping against your hip with every jump. You feel something fly out of it which halts you in your gleeful stride and look behind to where your bluetooth laptop mouse has fallen onto the grass right in front of Gojo. He’s sighing before crouching down to pick it up, then takes a step towards you and extends it out to you. When you glance up at him, he’s not looking at you and his face is hard to read.

You grab the mouse from him, fingertips brushing against the skin of his palm, and he ever-so-slightly shivers at the touch. His gaze finally meets yours.

With a sigh, you toss your computer mouse back into your bag. “I’m trying really hard to not feel awkward around you right now, but you’re making it pretty difficult.” You were so used to feeling like he has the upper edge of conversation when you’re with him, but now you felt like you were the one with the power.

He raises an eyebrow at you and when you look at his hands, you notice he was apprehensively cracking his knuckles with his thumbs. “Maybe you wouldn’t feel awkward if you actually stayed to talk last Friday.”

You cross your arms across your chest, disliking his tone. “Stayed to talk? About what? How not close you are with your ‘friends’?”

He tips his head up to the sky and closes his eyes, his brow furrowing like he was entirely frustrated by you, before he looks back down at you again. “If you don’t want to believe me, that’s fine, but what’s with you always running away whenever I try to talk to you?”

“I wasn’t feeling well that night,” you mumble to him as you turn away and continue to walk towards the practice field. It was the truth, you weren’t feeling well that night, and it was because seeing him kissing another girl made your stomach drop to the core of the Earth. But that wasn’t something you were going to admit to him. It wasn’t even something you were ready to admit to yourself. “Also, it’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I don’t care to believe you.”

“But why don’t you care?” he’s asking you, his voice sounding desperate now as he makes his way to your side again. He’s looking at you but you’re looking straight ahead.

You roll your eyes, continuing to march forwards. “Not everyone cares about your love life, Satoru. Contrary to what you might think.”

He jogs ahead a few steps, now walking backwards in front of you and you narrow your eyes at him. His tongue is poking at the inside of his cheek and then there’s a boyish grin on his face. “Say that again.”

“Say what again?” you ask.

“My name,” he says.

You almost roll your eyes out of your head when you see his amused expression. “I seriously can’t believe this right now,” you’re muttering under your breath and walk past him down the large hill leading to the practice field, his gaze on you burning through your skin until you’re rubbing at your cheek with the back of your hand in a feeble attempt to physically wipe the blush away.

The practice field was much more crowded and busy than it was during the first practice you went to last week. Looking across to the other side, you see a group of men huddled near one of the benches, all of them wearing maroon-colored shirts with black shorts that have gold stripes running down the side of them. None of them were wearing jerseys, but you assumed they were wearing their school colors as some sort of distinguishing clothing that would help them during the practice match.

“Satoru! Where the hell have you been?” You flinch upon hearing Coach Yaga’s stern voice nearby and you look over to where he had his arms crossed and glaring at Gojo through his thick sunglasses.

Gojo walks past you towards the benches and gives Coach Yaga a salute. “Sorry, sir, personal business.” He then makes his way over to the rest of his teammates that were huddled on this side of the field. There were a few tables located on the sidelines that had refillable water stations, bottles of Gatorade, towels and all sorts of other athletic gear. You walk up to one of the tables and fix the settings on your film camera before taking a snapshot of the items laid out on it.

The atmosphere is light since this wasn’t an official match and so you spend some time fidgeting with your camera before they get started. You can only imagine how tense it must be during a proper tournament game at the actual stadium off-campus, the thought of thousands of people spectating from stands sending a shiver down your spine. Athletes were of a whole different breed, despite how wholesome and down-to-earth most of the UTokyo soccer players you’ve met so far were.

Eventually, Coach Yaga and the other coach from the opposing school blow their whistles, both acting as referees for the match, and the players scatter themselves across the field. You notice Gojo is at the center of the circle in the middle, his foot on top of the ball as he scans his eyes across the field to each of the players with a focused look in his eyes. He draws his foot back, and just when you think he’s about to kick it forwards to where he was looking, the back of his heel makes contact with the ball instead and it’s sent swiftly behind him towards Geto. Instantly, all the players begin to move across the field, some of the offensive opposing side charging towards Geto as he shuffles the ball between his feet before kicking it way ahead of him to another one of their teammates. You bring your camera up to your face and take a snapshot when one of the opposing team’s defenders makes an attempt to steal the ball.

The play continues further, both teams playing a push-and-pull with the ball. Gojo makes an attempt at a goal before the opposing team’s goalie lunges for the ball that was flying in the air straight towards the net, catching it in his arms and then crashing down onto the ground. Somewhere along the intense match, the coaches call half-time and you’re shocked by how fast the first half went by.

Some of the players retreat to the benches to quench their thirst and wipe the perspiration off their faces with their towels, while others remain on the green expanse to pace around while catching their breath. Your attention is drawn to Gojo who stood at the center with his hands on his hips and breathing visibly heavily. He leisurely shuffles the ball between his feet with an innate rhythm before passing it off towards Geto who stood a few feet away from him. Gojo pulled his headband off of his face, his hair falling over his forehead onto the sheen layer of sweat above his eyes. With each breath, his chest rises and falls, lips parted in a display of exertion, and then he grabs at the hem of his shirt to lift it to his face, exposing his toned torso, as he wipes away the sweat at his temples. Your eyes widen at the sight, almost entranced as a wave of arousal suddenly consumes you, before he releases his grip on the fabric and it falls back down. He pushes his hair back up out of his face with one of his hands, the other securing the headband back onto his forehead with a snap, and the muscles of his arms tense fluidly with every motion.

You quickly look away from him, afraid he'll catch you staring, and blink at the grass as you notice the fast beating of your heart. Coach Yaga's whistle blows, causing you to look back up again. Players were making their way back onto the field and Gojo found his position at the center again. His eyes darted across the field, making their way onto the faces of each player, and then they eventually landed on you. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards slightly into a small smile before he's looking back down at the ball by his feet. And then they start the kickoff.

UTokyo ends up winning 3-1, and by the end of the match the sun is starting to set, painting the sky beautiful hues of purple and orange. You lean over to pick your things up off the grass as the players make their final retreat to the benches, and you gently place your film camera back into its case when Gojo’s voice next to you makes you jump.

“Hey. Please don’t run off,” he says. When you turned to look at him, he was still breathing a bit fast and he had a flushed, almost serene, look across his face. “Give me your phone.” He extends his open palm out to you.

“My phone?” You ask him, reaching for where it was located in your back pocket and pulling it out. He nods without any further explanation. You place it in his palm and he’s tapping away at it before handing it back to you. When you look down, you notice he gave a random number a call.

“That’s my number. Save it,” he says. You blink at him. His expression is soft for a moment and then he’s turning around and away from you, heading over to where his teammates were crowded around one of the tables and giving each other pats on the back.

You tip your head to the side to watch him as a couple of his teammates sling their arm around his neck and smack his chest, masculine laughter and jokes filling the air. You can’t help but smile before you pick up your things and start making your way up the hill away from the field, back towards the heart of campus.

---

The following days of the week where you don’t see Gojo play soccer seems like a waste, because why weren’t you spending every single day of your life watching him play soccer? You sigh to yourself at the question as you use clothing pins to hang up the film photos you took up onto a wall in your school’s photo lab. You finished developing the photos from Monday’s practice match, only to realize that you accidentally took them on one of your black-and-white rolls instead of full-color. You step back to take a look at all the images you had clipped onto the string pinned to the walls, snapping a shot of the collage with your phone, before pulling them all back down and stuffing them into a Manila folder.

The only time the photo lab wasn’t bustling with other film & photography majors was usually after sunset, but by the time you finished having dinner with one of your friends on campus, you had made it there around 7PM. By the time you leave and make it to your parked car, it’s pitch black outside. As you step inside your car and turn the key to ignite the engine, the windshield wipers automatically swiping as the control lights inside come to life, the clock on your dashboard reads 10:37PM.

The GPS for some reason prompts you to take an alternative route back to your apartment that avoids the freeway in an attempt to save you from twenty minutes of traffic, and you consider what to do for a moment before the exhaustion in your bones convinces you to take the allegedly faster way home.

As you begin to head in the unfamiliar direction, the excitement you had to make it home as soon as possible slowly starts to dwindle more and more as the streets morph from well-lit and bustling with people to dark and surrounded by trees instead. What used to be a three-lane street turned into one, and you count the seconds between every passing car you see coming by in the opposite direction. You’re worried when your counting makes it past sixty seconds.

You turn your music up in your car to distract yourself from the fear of driving down the secluded and dark road. There was a slight fog settling up ahead in front of you to where you could only see clearly about thirty feet ahead. You spot something on the road, blinking rapidly to focus your vision, and then your eyes widen when you realize what it was. Rocks.

You’re instantly swerving your car to the side, attempting to deftly avoid the scattered rocks but unfortunately you drive over a few of them, causing your tire to pop and you let out a scream when you lose handle on your car. One of the rocks flies up and hits your windshield, cracking the glass, and suddenly you’re driving up over the curb to the right before you finally regain control of your car and swerve back onto the road, slamming on the brakes.

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your body, and you grip onto the steering wheel while you try to regain your breath. Your windshield had a large crack in it, large enough to where the cold air from outside was whistling its way inside your car, and you were slanted in your seat due to the punctured tire at the front. As you took deep breaths, you noticed how alone you were on a dimly lit street where you hadn’t seen a single car in more than five minutes, fear and anxiety surging through your body. Your hands reach for your phone, shakily turning it on and exhaling in relief when you see that you have reception, then call the emergency telephone line.

“Hello, how can we help you?” a feminine voice on the other end of the line says.

“Hi, um,” you say, voice sounding shaky, “I just got a flat tire on Musashi road, about five miles from the Main Street intersection. I don’t have a spare on me, and my windshield is cracked too…could you send roadside assistance?”

“Yes, absolutely,” the woman says kindly and begins to take down some information from you. “Thank you, ma’am. Unfortunately, there has been a big accident on the freeway, so many of the tow-trucks and officers have been dispatched to that area. It may take about an hour for help to arrive. Are you able to call someone to come stay with you as you wait?”

“Oh…” You press your lips together in thought. “Yes, I should be able to.” After working out a bit more logistics with the woman on the other line, you hang up and then you’re scrolling through your contacts. You first call Mina’s line, which goes straight to voicemail, and then you remember that she was out of town for tonight and half of tomorrow visiting her family. You call Nobara, who also doesn’t pick up, and then a couple of your other friends who go straight to voicemail as well. You start to panic slightly before calling your friend Maki who lives two hours away.

“Hello?” You hear her voice say when she picks up.

“Maki! Oh my gosh, thank you for picking up,” you say to her through the phone, your hand on your chest as you sigh. You explain your situation to her and she’s instantly providing you with soothing words.

“Is there no one that can come stay with you? I feel awful that I’m so far away,” she says.

“It’s okay, they said that help will be here in maybe fifty minutes now…I just really wanted to talk to someone,” you say, peering out into the darkness of the night. You’re still shocked you haven’t seen a single car drive by in the past ten minutes. You pull your phone from your face to check the time and see a notification on your phone that says 5% battery remaining. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Maki asks worriedly.

“My phone is running out of battery…” you say with a defeated tone. Your anxiety starts to rise in your chest again. “I don’t know if I can stay on the line.” You scroll through your contacts again, finger halting the screen when your eyes land on another name. “I…I think I have someone else I can try calling.”

“Good, try that. I don’t want you to be stuck out there with a dead phone and a flat tire. Let me know if this person doesn’t pick up, okay?” She’s saying to you and you send her your location before hanging up.

You’re breathing heavily from fear when a particularly harsh gust of wind pushes more cold air through the crack of your windshield. Pulling your phone from your face, you click on the name in your contacts and bring your phone to your ear. It rings once, twice, almost a third time before you hear a click and then a voice.

“Y/n?” Gojo’s voice calls out, sounding surprised.

Hearing his voice immediately causes a wave of relief to wash over you and you lay back in your seat, having to muffle the abrupt sob that threatens to erupt from the tightness in your throat. “Hi,” you whisper.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asks.

“Mm…no,” you admit to him, sniffling slightly and swiping at the stray tear that rolls down your cheek with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’m just a bit scared right now.” Your voice cracks towards the end of your sentence and you silently berate yourself for not mustering enough emotional strength at the moment.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his voice starting to sound uneasy.

“I was driving down this road, it was dark, I couldn’t really see much…but I ended up driving over these rocks and my tire punctured. I called for roadside assistance and they said it would take about an hour for help to arrive,” you ramble, “I tried calling Mina, and some of my other friends to come and wait with me, but-” You run out of breath to finish your sentence and you’re sniffling again.

“Send me your location, I’m heading over right now,” he says and you hear what sounds like keys jingling in the background along with some other shuffling noises, “can you stay on the line?”

You pull your phone from your ear and see that you’re at 3% now before sending him your location. “No…my phone is running out of battery.”

He’s silent for a second on the other end. “It says I’ll be there in twelve minutes. Just…hang tight, okay? Make sure your doors are locked.”

You nod before remembering that he can’t see you, so you say I will. He’s hesitant to hang up on you but when your phone flashes from 3% to 2%, you tell him you don’t have much of a choice and then he’s giving you another word of caution before reluctantly hanging up. You’re all alone to your thoughts in your car again, shaking from the anxiety and blinking tears away.

The twelve-minute wait felt so long, and eventually Gojo texts you that he’s one minute away when your phone is at 1% battery. You see headlights approaching behind your car in your rearview mirror, the first sight of another human being you’ve seen in probably the past thirty minutes stepping out of the driver’s seat and you immediately recognize his silhouette. He walks up to the passenger side door and tips his head down so he’s visible through the window. At the sight of him, you finally release the breath you were holding in before opening your car door and stepping outside. You both look at each other across the top of your car and you notice him letting out a deep breath of his own as his shoulders relax at the sight of you.

He makes his way wordlessly around the front of your car to you and he’s studying your face intently. You look away from him when you realize he could probably tell that your eyes were puffy and that you had been crying. From your periphery, you see the back of his hand reach out when he’s right in front of you, hesitating slightly before it briefly brushes against your cheek, dabbing at a tear that you must’ve missed. His hand is warm against your skin and the sudden desire to hug him consumes every single fiber of your being, but when you look up at him, the soft expression on his face renders you still.

“Thank you for coming,” you’re whispering to him.

He lets out a short comical exhale through his nose. “I wasn’t going to not come. What kind of person do you think I am?”

You shiver as another gust of wind passes through, crossing your arms across yourself. Gojo slips the jacket he was wearing off, revealing a beige sweater underneath, and then he’s circling around you to place it over your back. It’s cozy and it smells like him.

You’re about to voice your concern for him but his voice behind you cuts you off. “I run warm, don’t worry.”

He walks around to the front of your car, bending over to the side to assess the flat tire at the front, his hands shoved into his pockets. You pull his jacket around you tighter. “Damn, the tread on your tires is horrendous. No wonder. You should really check on them more often.” He straightens himself up and peers at the crack across your windshield. “And that’s definitely not gonna be cheap to fix.”

You sigh in annoyance, his casual tone causing your eye to twitch slightly, but when you noticed your heart was calm and your breathing was normal again, you looked at him with the realization that him just being here managed to soothe you.

He looks back over at you with a considerate expression. “Do you want to sit in my car? It’s chilly out here.”

You press your lips together before shaking your head. “I feel like I need the fresh air.”

Gojo’s walking over to the patch of grass on the pavement at the side of the road and sits down on the curb. He pats the spot next to him with an awaiting look on his face and you make your way to him, sitting to his left. He looks down at the distance you’ve put between the two of you, almost three feet, and he’s sighing before scootching closer to you. “Don’t be greedy with your body heat. I said I run warm, not that I’m a furnace.”

His shoulder brushes against yours and his knee bumps against your thigh as he gets comfortable. You bring your legs closer to you and wrap your arms around them, resting your chin on top of your knee. Gojo was leaning back onto his outstretched arms behind him, legs extended in front as he tipped his head back up to look at the sky. You look over at him. His gaze slowly shifts from one point in the sky to the other, and you wonder what he’s mapping with his eyes.

“Thank you for getting the referee permission for me,” you say, realizing you never thanked him in person. “I’m excited to take photos out on the field next week.”

“Sure thing, my freaky little photographer. I’m sure you are,” he chimes.

You stick your bottom lip out in an annoyed pout. “So, we’re even now.”

He looks over at you and smiles. His blue eyes were a bit darker underneath the starry sky with less light to reflect off of them, and the quality made them look gentle. “No, you’ve gotta make sure Mina stays interested in Todo.”

You can tell he’s just joking, but you respond as if he’s serious anyways. “That was never part of the agreement,” you say, “besides, I don’t really think that’s necessary. She seems to be pretty taken with him already.”

He laughs. “And you’re not worried about that?”

“What’s there to worry about?” You ask.

“I don’t know, the fact they hit it off so fast?” He shrugs and you feel the friction of the movement against your shoulder.

“Hmm, no. Mina’s a smart girl, she’s good at sniffing out those red flags,” you say assuredly before lifting a suspicious eyebrow at him, “should I be worried? He's your friend. Enlighten me.”

Gojo shakes his head musingly at your concern. “Todo’s a good guy,” he says in a soft voice.

“He’s not on the soccer team, right? I didn’t see him the past couple of times I was on the field,” you say with realization.

“Nah, he’s just a mad lad I met in my freshman year econ class. We’ve been friends ever since,” he says, swaying his knee from side to side. “He’s the one that got me to join the frat.”

You two are silent for a moment, listening to the noise of the wind through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. The previous anxiety you had from the night completely dissipated into peacefulness instead, and the man beside you was responsible for that shift.

“Can you tell me what that offer was that you were so excited about earlier this week?” he asks.

You look up to the sky briefly, trying to remember what he was talking about. “Oh. I might be able to publish the photos I take of the game next week to the sports recap in the school newsletter,” you say.

He turns his head to look at you, eyes widened. “Woah, seriously? That’s so cool. Can you make sure I look hot?”

You roll your eyes and go back to resting your chin on your knees. “Sure.”

A comfortable silence settles before he’s speaking again. “What inspired you to be a film photographer?” He’s turning his body so he’s facing you a bit more directly.

“Well, the end goal is film movie making…but my professor says that it’s important to understand the art of film photography before that,” you say, twiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “He says that ‘if a filmmaker cannot master the single frame shot, then how can they possibly put together a film composed of a million of them’?”

Gojo is humming beside you and nodding in agreement. He turns away from you to face forward again and he starts tapping his foot on the pavement of the road. “Huh. That’s kind of similar to something coach says during drills.”

You glance over at him, a little surprised. He continues to stare forward with a somewhat innocent expression on his face, and then you can practically see the moment another question pops up into his head.

“Why don’t you make your Instagram public? Your photos would probably get a lot more views or likes that way,” he says in an excited tone, like he’s cracked some code.

You let out a small laugh and bury your face into your knees, your voice sounding muffled when you speak. “I did have it public for a while. Until a troll spammed a bunch of hate comments on my posts and I quickly switched it to private after that.” Saying it out loud, you felt a bit silly. You’re apprehensive as you say the next few words. “I guess I’m scared that I’m not good enough to be acknowledged or successful, and that somehow other people will see that truth before I can.”

“Oh come on, y/n,” he’s saying beside you, gently nudging your arm with his elbow. The contact causes your breath to catch in your throat. “You just have to go for it. You can’t accomplish anything if you don’t face your fears.” When you watch those words leave his mouth, you notice he now has a thoughtful expression as he stares ahead to the other side of the road.

Another beat of silence goes by. “Why did you start playing soccer?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a long time as he blinks, to the point where you’re unsure if he even heard your question, but then he finally answers. “My dad used to play in college. He introduced me to the sport when I was younger and I fell in love with it.” Your perk up slightly and tip your head to the side in curiosity. He’s looking down at his lap now.

“That’s really wonderful, Satoru. Was he also center forward in college?” When you ask him this, you don’t miss the way his eyebrows pinch together for a split second before his expression relaxes again.

“Yeah, he was,” he responds, “he got injured in his last year, though. Never got to play after that.” There’s an inflection at the end of his sentence that makes you think he’s about to say more but he doesn’t.

Your face softens when you see him stare down at the curb with a slightly troubled expression. In a moment of tenacity, you place your hand on his thigh and his eyes widen when he sees the movement before he’s looking over at you.

“I’m sure he’s really proud of you,” you say softly, your hand reaching up to brush a few strands of his hair away from his eyes. Both of you are shocked at the intimate gesture and you’re quick to withdraw your hand.

Your faces are close, his side still pressed against yours, and neither of you break eye contact. You take a moment to study the handsome features of his face and your heart aches a little. The cold air has you licking your lips and Gojo’s eyes dart to them, gaze lingering, and you blink slowly when he leans forward slightly. Blue eyes find yours again and he stills himself, searching your face for something, and when he doesn’t see it he continues to lean forward and you lean towards him too. And then his lips press against yours, so chaste and so light that it’s possible you could have imagined it, but just when you feel his warm hand cup your face and he’s about to deepen the kiss, a loud honking noise startles the two of you and you both jump, pulling away from one another. You see Gojo’s face illuminated with bright golden lighting as he winces and holds up one of his hands in front of his face to shield himself from being blinded by it.

You turn your head to the left towards the source of the light and see a tow truck approaching. “Hey! Is this the flat and windshield crack?” you hear the driver shout out from where his head was stuck out the window.

You’re speechless, cheeks feeling flushed from the realization that Gojo had just kissed you, and you turn to look at him. He silently stands up with a weary exhale and a calm expression on his face and then shoves his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, it is.” He makes his way over to the tow truck and you hear him make conversation with the driver as well as the man in the passenger seat. You’re still sitting stunned on the curb, bringing your fingers up to gently touch your lips that were still searing from earlier. Gojo’s suddenly standing in front of you and you’re staring at his legs before you tip your head back up to look at him.

“Do you have any valuables in your car?” he asks, jerking his head in the direction of your car.

“Ah…my phone and my tote bag,” you say. He crouches down in front of you, earnest eyes level with yours, and his hand reaches into the pocket of his jacket where you had stashed your keys. He removes only your car key from the ring, handing the set of other keys back to you, and then he’s unlocking your car to get your stuff out of it.

You remain on the curb, watching as Gojo handles the entire interaction with the tow truck helpers. When they’ve successfully anchored your car to the tow truck and one of the men comes around to shake Gojo’s hand, you see him reach into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and handing the man some cash. You stand up in a bit of a panic and head over.

The tow truck is already pulling away with your car from the curb when you make it in front of Gojo. He hands you a business card with the towing company information on it and then looks down at you with a mild demeanor, letting out a long exhale. “Ready to go home? You’ve had a long night.”

Exhaustion suddenly consumes your entire being and you hesitantly nod.

The interior of Gojo’s car is nice. It’s clean, smells like him and pine, with nice leather seats that have warmers. You’re still wearing his jacket, clenching it tightly around you, as he inputs your apartment address into his GPS and starts to drive you home.

Neither of you say a word to one another during the ride. You watch his hand tighten its grip at the top of the steering wheel occasionally as he drives. He turns his car into the entrance of your apartment complex and parks in the loading zone. You watch as he makes his way out of the car to the passenger side door, opening it for you. You step outside and thank him.

“It’s okay, I’ll head inside from here,” you say, already feeling like you’ve caused him enough trouble. You abruptly remember that Mina isn’t home and the realization that you’ll be all alone tonight creates a hollow feeling in your chest.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Come on,” he says, walking past you to make his way to the elevator and pressing the up button. It dings before immediately opening and he walks inside like he’s the one that lives here. He places a hand out to hold the door sensors when he sees that you don’t follow him inside. You jump out of the mild trance you were in and quickly rush in before he withdraws his hand and the elevator door shuts.

“Which floor?” He asks, finger hovering over the control pad. You tell him three.

Once you reach the third floor, you step out into the hallway and he follows suit. Your apartment was just seven units down towards the right and the two of you eventually made it to the door. You turn around to look up at him. His expression becomes slightly distressed and when you don’t say anything to him, he shoves his hands further into his pockets and sways back and forth slightly.

“Alright, mission accomplished, I got you home,” he says with a forced jovial tone, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. You notice he does that when he seems nervous about something.

Your mind recalls the kiss from earlier, the feeling of Gojo’s lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed up against you in the cold, the tender way his hand held your face still so he could have more of you, only for it to be cut short. Your heart is beating fast in your chest and your cheeks flush with warmth. He’s looking down at you intently and you’re looking up at him pensively.

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself. Not yet.

Your hands reach into your tote bag to pull out the keys to your apartment. “Yes, home.” He watches you jingle the metal in your hands. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he says and he takes a step back. Turning around, you push your key into the keyhole with shaking hands, turning it, and open the door to your apartment, letting yourself inside. You look at him from the entryway with the door still ajar.

“Good night, take it easy,” he says to you.

“Thanks, you too.” And then he’s out of your sight as you shut the door.

You lean back against the front door, letting out a sigh and biting down on your lip, the thumping of your heart pertinent throughout your entire body. There was a lingering truth to all of the emotions that you’ve been having recently. It followed you in the early hours of the morning, it followed you as you tried to fall asleep at night, it was present in the silence, lurking in the dark, and it was there with you tonight for every second that he was by your side.

You had feelings for Gojo Satoru.

a/n. thanks sooo much for reading and i hope you enjoyed aaa idk this week felt off for my writing for some reason but i heavily edited it so i hope it came out okay in the end.

➸ take me to chapter six!

tag list: @who-can-touch-my-boob @getitsatoru

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