#usually when that time of the month rolls around smh

[sugucidal]

# HOW TO SEDUCE YOUR NEIGHBOR 101 !!

CHAPTER i. [3k words]

୨୧‬┊pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! reader

୨୧‬┊synopsis: with winter break having rolled around the corner, you’ve decided to spend it with your family back at home. it felt nice being back after 2 years away at university. you just wish your mom had told you that a certain guest was visiting. one that you hadn’t expected to ever have to face again.

୨୧‬┊warnings: fluff! + age gap (reader is 19 and toji is 34) + taboo content (cause what’re u doin tryna get tojis middle aged ass in ur bed smh) + slice of life kind of (??) + suggestiveness + humor + reader is in her winter bimbo era + toji is…toji. + no smut yet sorryy + slight slowburn + everything is legal! no ones going to jail!

୨୧‬┊a/n: first chapter woohooo !!! second chapter will finally be coming out on [redacted] <3

‪MAIN POST | part i. > part ii. > part iii.

Tugging at the sleeves of your jacket further down your hands, you let out an exhale, nerves set ablaze. The typical cool spring air was colder than usual this particular night out, sun having already set and moon shining up into the dark, starry sky.

Fiddling with the hem of your mini skirt, you gazed up, doe eyes glinting heatedly up at the man you've harbored adoration towards.

You were finally gonna confess.

"I want you."

The simple words that held so much weight filled the space between you both.

A sigh in response. Oh no. You already knew what was coming, but you hoped to any deity or god from above that it wouldn't turn out this way.

"Kid, you're way too young for me." The smoke blowing past his lips wafted through the stiff air, his scar pulling at the corner of his mouth in dismay. "If you were older maybe I'd consider it. Wouldn't bet on it though, since you're such a pain in the ass to deal with."

You let his words hang momentarily, trying to come up with a sufficient rebuttal. You knew he was only playing when he said you were a pain to deal with but it still stung your heart to hear it coming from him. But you weren't gonna give up that easily. You've had a crush on this man ever since he moved into the neighborhood years ago!

What started out as innocent puppy love slowly built its way into this desire, stemmed deep at the heart the older you got. You'd watch as he invited women into his home late into the hours of the night, clinging onto him like a leech in a body of lakewater. God, how you wish it was you he'd have brought into his home on those late nights. Lustfully gazing down at you with promises of this being the best you'll ever have, one you'd be thinking back on until the day you die.

He knew exactly just how much you craved for his touch. It wasn't hard to see that he felt the same, you could see it in the way he'd glance in your direction whenever you purposely wore something revealing, hoping to catch his eye. He told you that you shouldn't wear things like that at your age around men, that they were dangerous, intentions impure. As if he wasn't one of those men he was warning you about. But despite it all, he always looked the other way. Kept a boundary of barbed wire up, no way of climbing through. Frankly, it was annoying.

You hate when people play hard to get.

"So...you mean once I'm 18, you'll take up my offer?" If he couldn't get with you because you were 'too young' then surely he'd concede if you were legally an adult...right?

"Not exactly what I said, but sure," Taking one last final drag of his cigar, he stomped it out onto the pavement, sharp eyes gazing at you discerningly one last time before turning the other way.

"Whatever gets you off my case."

That was the last time you spoke with Toji and almost 2 years have gone by since then. The rejection after the confession hurt no doubt, but the avoidance of Toji towards you afterwards, hurt like salt to a fresh wound.

You rarely saw him after that, suddenly out for weeks to months at a time for work. Sometimes he'd come by when he was free and have idle chats with your parents any time they saw him down the neighborhood. Not bothering to spare a polite greeting or glance in your direction whenever you were present. What used to be a strong bond between family friend and their doting daughter, having met him at an early age, quickly turned awkward and tense, distance overtaking whatever there once was.

You regret talking to him that night every single day.

Unfortunately, you couldn't bring back the past and fix your fuck up. On the other hand, the days of being immature and bratty were long gone. Having been replaced by someone more mature and less dense.

Living off pre-packaged noodles and staying up till 6 am finishing up assignments for your university classes due the next hour, does that to a person you suppose.

Now with winter break finally having rolled around the corner, you were able to get that good night's sleep your exhausted ass had been craving for. And the home cooked meals your mother had waiting for you was certainly appreciated as well.

Lugging your bags up the front steps to your parents' quaint home, you took a quick look at the classic 'welcome home' mat under your feet that you were sure still hid a key underneath. Lifting the corner of the mat your suspicions were confirmed.

You'd think they'd realize how unsafe this could be one of these days.

Before you could place the key through the silver lock, you were instead met with the distinct sound of hard, oak wood doors being unlocked and swung open.

"Baby, you're finally home! Get in quickly, come on now." Your mother hastily ushered you in, calling over your father to help carry your bags further inside the warmth of your home. The key you held was quickly dropped on the small table near the entrance, and the door kicked shut. The signature smell of a vanilla sugar cookie candle being burnt filled your nostrils, the rest wafting through the air. Anyone would think your family baked with the way they always seem to choose that particular scent regardless of season or weather. Further glancing around, you watched your family's pet cat prance towards you, its furry face wide eyed and complaining to be held. You swear he acted like a dog sometimes.

Guess some things never change.

You just hoped that would've stayed true for a certain someone.

Before you had any more time to dwell on it, you were taken out of your thoughts by the mention of the name you had barely begun to ponder over.

'Speak of the devil', you sighed.

Walking over to the living area, you followed your father picking up your cat on the way, butting in, "Hm? what was that?"

"You remember Toji right?" Nodding your head, your father continued. "We invited him over for dinner tonight."

You paused in your step. "What? Why?" The confusion in your voice was surely noticed. You couldn't exactly say you were unhappy, hell you felt giddy at just the mention of his name, but you were still hung up on the past and weren't ready to face the man that blew off your poor naive, little heart. If you saw his handsome face in person again that's been embarrassingly haunting your dazed mind whenever you're busy writhing and whining atop your soft, cozy sheets—at that dinner table, you might just take the 2 hour car ride back to campus dorms.

You were just a pussy like that. One that couldn't face the culprit of those lingering feelings that had never ceased to falter throughout the years, dead in the eye.

The two quietly glanced at each other at your sudden change in demeanor, eyebrows raised. Before he could continue your mom piped up first, "What do you mean by 'why'? You haven't seen each other in so long. He misses you and I'm sure you two would like to catch up."

"Misses you" You swear your heart might've actually stopped beating. In what world would Toji Fushiguro have missed their friends young daughter after being told straight to their face that they wanted him to fuck her.

"He..misses me?" It sounded a little unbelievable saying it outloud.

"Mhm, after you left for University he asked about you a couple times, wondering when you'd be back to visit," Turning around to walk into the kitchen to get started on dinner, she smiled over her shoulder at you once more, "You must've really left an impression on him."

Nervously laughing you settled your cat down, watching him stride over to sip some water from his bowl.

"Yeah..quite some impression alright."

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Okay. Okay it's fine. Yeah you haven't seen him in years but it's fine! He's just coming over for dinner. You'll greet him with a friendly smile, he'll ask how you've been- or shit, maybe he won't. Maybe he'll just ignore you again like he's already done. Toji mentioning to your parents that he misses you was probably just a misunderstanding and he meant to say the weather has been misty- yeah. Totally plausible.

"What the hell am I doing.." Taking a once-over to look yourself in the mirror, you just finished applying the finishing touches to your makeup, wiping off any excess gloss at the corner of your lips with a q-tip for a sharp finish. Was the gloss necessary given the fact that it was going to be smudged off during dinner anyway?

The answer was yes. Yes It was.

Just because you were having a small dinner that was probably gonna be awkward as hell with a man you've been wanting- didn't want to see, shouldn't mean you couldn't at least look cute.

A sudden faint sound of muffled talking took you out your inner monologue. Putting away your array of makeup displayed on the varnished wood countertop of your vanity, you walked over to the door pressing an ear against it trying to discern what was being said.

'Hm sounds like there's someone else down there..' quietly poking a head out into the hallway you just barely made out a deep yet familiar voice before quickly being startled by your mother calling out your name.

"Hon, come down and greet Toji!"

Fuck. "C–Coming!" straightening up, you calmed your blazing nerves, mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of awkward tension that your parents luckily knew nothing of. Bless their complete oblivion.

Walking out into the hallway and down the stairs your eyes immediately locked onto Tojis, gaze shyly looking away and focusing onto nothing in particular. You were better off staring at something near him than at him directly.

Approaching towards where they stood, you tried your best to look as confident as possible. You're a woman now. Not some doe. At least that's what you feel like telling yourself at this moment, as you pick at your nails. Standing straighter, you stood next to your parents, watching as they finished up their talk.

You haven't had a proper conversation with Toji since, well...that night. Not counting the usual greetings you had exchanged with him in the past when you saw each other after. If you could even call it that. If a glance of bare acknowledgement was considered a greeting, then sure. Yet here you were right in front of him, determined to set things right. You had to confront him, it was the only way you'd be able to heal the wound of the past and maybe, even let go.

But first, you'll have to actually talk to him.

Deciding to finally look up at Toji, you were able to make out his features more clearly. He hadn't changed much since you last saw him, still very much tall, and his ever so brooding presence never waned. His jaw was somehow even more defined than before, and he was still rocking the same haircut as he always did.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it I guess.

Overall, he looked good. Better. The best. As he most likely always will be in your eyes.

And you're so lost in your own thoughts that you don't even notice Toji looking down at you in the corner of his eye, trying to hold back a smirk that's beginning to creep up. Silly you, ogling him so openly in front of your own parents. Not like they bothered to ever notice though.

Hearing the three of them laugh about something pulled you away from your stupor, and your attention was immediately latched onto Toji who was the first to speak.

Hopefully he didn't notice you being a creep.

"It's been a while, huh? You still remember me?" You know he's only teasing by asking if you still "remembered" him. The old you would've sassed him up for asking something silly like that, but you don't know if its a good idea to get ahead of yourself and start pulling on his leg this early on.

So you opt for the safest response.

With a polite smile on your lips, you shrugged your shoulders, "Of course. It hasn't been that long."

Toji stared at you for a moment. Shit. Did he not like that answer..?

Then you felt something warm come into contact with the top of your head; it was Toji's hand. Toji was petting you. Or more like ruffling your hair—same difference.

"You barely changed."

You exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding. A moment longer in silence and you don't think you'd be able to hold back the urge to run back up those stairs, slam the door shut behind you, and scream into your pillow.

Why were you so nervous!? You're never nervous when it comes to Toji.

'What's up with me??''

Regardless, you felt yourself being left annoyed at his comment. Disappointed that he probably still saw you as some kid despite not certainly looking or being one at all for that matter.

Too bad you didn't realize he meant it in a different way.

Even if you tried to hide it, Toji could still make out the way you held your hands behind your back, most likely fidgeting with your nails. Seems you've changed, the thought amusing him. The old you he knew would've pounced on him by now, batting your lashes, staring up starry eyed thinking you were being discreet about it.

Nothing gets past him, especially not when you make it so obvious. One thing that hasn't changed though, are the clothes you seemed to purposely wear around him, and him only.

The moment he saw you walk down those stairs, he knew you had him wrapped around your finger all over again. The too short skirt and see-through slip on you adorned leaving almost nothing to the imagination, if not for the cream colored cardigan you wore hiding the slivers of skin, leaving him wanting more of what was underneath.

'What a damn tease..' But Tojis eyes averted by the time your parents noticed your descend towards them. He didn't exactly want them seeing him ogle their daughter so openly.

Before any one of you could say anything more, your mother cut the greetings short. "Great, now that we're all finished reuniting again, let's start eating before the food gets cold."

Walking a little ways behind you, Toji catched the way your hips swayed as you walked. Whether you were doing it intentionally or not, he couldn't say for sure.

But one thing he was sure about, is that you were going to give him one hell of a hard time.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

The rest of dinner went by quickly. Once you were all seated, your parents and Toji had no problem talking with each other. They were busy discussing something, but your mind was too occupied to actually listen in on what they were saying. Too busy playing around with the food on your plate as your mind ran aimlessly, and foot twitching anxiously.

The night could've been worse. Really, it could've. Sure you haven't made any progress yet, but you'll get there! Overall, nothing particular happened. Except for one thing.

Toji couldn't stop looking at you.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Before you knew it, dinner had come to an end. Toji had already taken his leave and bid you all a 'thanks for the meal' and a goodbye. Finally. Now you can slip away to your room, wipe off your makeup, and lay awake in your bed as you regret everything you could've said and done tonight but didn't without anyone noticing–

"Where do you think you're going?" There stood your mom, looking at you expectantly. Were you missing something?

"To my room, why?"

"Didn't you hear at dinner?"

'Was I supposed to hear something at dinner?'

"No, hear what exactly?"

"Tomorrow, you're going out to buy some decorations for a party we're having."

A beat of silence. Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as you wondered why the hell you would be having a party.

"Mom… I appreciate that you want to host a welcome back party for me, but there's really no need to." It's sweet that they missed you this much, but you weren't one for parties that were centered around you.

She laughed. "No, no, not a party for you. I know you don't like that kinda stuff,"

Oh. Nevermind then.

"Our annual winter get together. We do it every year with the rest of the neighborhood and we're the ones hosting this time. Have all those cup noodles gotten to your head and you suddenly forgot?" She shook her head in disappointment.

Low blow, mom.

"I didn't forget! I just...didn't know you'd be the ones doing it this year."

"If you were actually paying attention at dinner then you'd have heard."

"Sorry. So, tomorrow you want me to go out and buy decor right? Cool, I'll go after lunch."

Thinking that was the end of that, you began to trudge your way towards the staircase. Already almost at the top when your mother called out to you once more.

"Oh! and Toji's accompanying you."

Yup, definitely going to scream into your pillow tonight.

© SUGUCIDAL 2023 — All rights reserved. Do not copy, modify, or redistribute my work without permission.

[darling-i-read-it]

Frat Party

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: borderline smut, basically just tension and making out for the whole fic lol, Chris cockblocking them smh

Author’s Note: I wrote this so quickly something possessed me and it just poured out i need to make out with him immediately 

Requested: by anon, abt y/n and dalton having ‘fun’- probably in the closet 🫢🫢 heavy make out and ykkk pleasure 😞🙏🏻 then someone open the broom closet 😟😟 such a cockblocker

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“Do you remember the last time I went to a frat party,” Dalton asked, head tilted up to look at Chris. She looked down at him, pursing her lips in annoyance. 

“That was literally months ago and since then you haven’t seen a dead person once.” 

“She has a point,” you offered. You were sitting on Dalton’s desk, trying to peer pressure him into going to a stupid party. He had been far too cautious since his incident and it was about time he started to go out more. Chris found a flier laying around and declared that the three of you were going to go even if she had to drag you guys there. 

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” 

“I am on your side,” you said. “This is your side. You just don’t know it yet.” He rolled his eyes and looked between the two of you. He had never been sure how he ended up friends with the two of you. Usually he was grateful for it, knowing he wasn’t alone out here. Moments like these he wondered how worth it was, even when he glanced at you and his eyes lingered a little longer than they should have. You met his gaze, trying not to blush under it. Chris pretended not to notice your acts of persuasion. “C’mon D,” you pleaded. You sat up all the way and leaned forward to him. He was looking up at you, something he could get used to. 

“Fine.” 

“Yes!” “Sweet!” 

You hopped off the desk and offered him your hand to help him up. He took it without a second thought. The weight of his hand was relaxing and familiar. You briefly thought about how you wished you could remain holding his hand forever. 

“I’ll come get you guys at 8 alright?” Chris asked. You nodded. She backed away to the door, bringing two fingers to her eyes and then flipped them back around towards you. “Be ready or I’ll leave without you.” “Please do,” Dalton pleaded. 

“You’re stuck going,” she promised. She opened up the door, calling about something she had to do before you left. You turned to Dalton, a smile plastered on your face. It was a goofy one, half to taunt him, half to have a reason to smile at him. 

“It’ll be fun,” you promised. 

“If you say so.” -

It was loud before you even went in. Greek Row had a line of houses that all seemed too large to be real and too old to be nice. You could immediately tell which one was having a party from a distance. There were people hanging out on the curb, drinking beer, watching the stars, dancing in the grass and doing other weird things. Dalton scooted closer to you, trying not to show his disinterest. 

You nudged him. 

“Lighten up,” you said. 

“I’m trying,” he promised. You approached the door, slipping through the people making out on the porch. Once you got inside it was like a whole other world had opened up. There were people everywhere, against walls, chugging drinks, dancing against each other. The music was so loud you could hardly see yourself think. Dalton put a hesitant hand to one ear, clearly trying to get used to the overstimulation. 

“I’m gonna go upstairs and be nosy!” Chris called over the music. “Either of you want to come?” 

“I want a drink!” you yelled. She nodded.

“Dalton?” 

“I’ll go with her!” Even though you were practically screaming at each other, it was hard to hear. Chris saluted you both before snaking through the crowd to the stairs. 

You didn’t recognize anyone around. It was kind of humbling, realizing how big the school actually was. Dalton was walking close behind you as you made it to a table with snacks. You grabbed a solo cup and poured yourself some of the red liquid, not entirely sure what was in it. 

“You want some?!”

“You drink it first!” You rolled your eyes and took a sip. It was foul but not bad enough to make a face. You offered him a drink of yours, which he took. He made a disgusted face, shaking his head as he tried to rid himself of the flavor. You giggled, taking back your cup. 

“Want one?!”  He paused, swallowing hard. There were so many people that you were pressed against the table and practically against each other. 

“Sure?!” You nodded once, a bright smile on your face. You poured him some and handed it over. You grabbed his arm and weaved him through the crowd so you wouldn’t lose him. You ran into people dancing, narrowly avoiding the people making out on the stairs. 

Once you got further away from the living room you were able to hear yourself think a little bit more. Dalton was drinking quickly, despite his looks of distaste. You took a large swig to catch up to him. 

“Wanna dance?!” you asked. His eyes went wide as he took a large swallow. The scrunched face of disgust went over his face and then it was even again. He looked towards the crowd of people dancing, men's hands on girls hips, bodies pressed together. Just the thought of it made him blush furiously. “D?!” 

“Yeah!” He put down his cup, forgetting about it immediately. This time he grabbed your hand and led you back into the crowd. He didn’t like it but he forced himself to be in the middle so that less people paid attention to him. There was awful music playing but it had an aggressive base that was rocking the floors. You tossed your drink away far too early into a garbage can and started to dance to the music. Dalton wondered if he should put his hands on your sides as you started to move along to the music, looking too intoxicating for his already intoxicated mind. 

“C’mon D!” you yelled. You put your hands on his sides, moving him back and forth. He tried not to gasp at your hands. Instead he just put his palms on your hips as well, evening out the playing field. His grip was fiery and incredibly distracting. You were moving him but you weren’t thinking about it anymore. You were thinking about him and you were pulling him closer to you and your chests were flush. You looked him in the eye, not breaking eye contact. It felt like you were playing a game of who would break first. Your breathing was becoming ragged. Was it smokey in here? 

Your hands moved up towards his neck. You put your arms on his shoulders. His lips parted. Your torsos were fused together at this point and he was making every effort to hold you even closer to him. Everyone else seemed like a blur. 

You lifted your hand up a bit and then placed it on his neck. He would’ve flushed if he wasn’t knee deep in the moment. Your fingers were cool against his bare skin. 

“Dalton,” you said, voice too quiet for him to hear but he recognized the way your lips said his name. 

“Yeah?” 

You leaned forward, kissing him without thinking. His lips parted, breathing in the air you were giving him. He had never felt so euphoric. It briefly crossed his mind that this is what college was for. To make out with the girl he loved in the middle of a room after drinking something was probably too strong. Your hand went to his hair, tangling in his knots. 

“C’mon,” you whispered and he only caught it because his face was now so close to yours. Your hand was in his. You had never been in this house before but you were determined now, body on fire. His other hand found your hip. You ran up the stairs. People were staggering around but your mind was now occupied. You tried a door but it was locked. Dalton put both of his hands on your sides behind you. You were a girl on a mission now. 

You tried the next door. Locked. 

You tried the next one. It opened with a gentle nudge. It was a bathroom, clearly someone’s private one. There was a door attached to it on the side, probably to a bedroom. You grabbed Dalton’s hand off your side and pulled him inside, slamming the door shut. 

It was so tight that you were barely able to both get in there. A walk-in shower was shoved in the corner and a sink was beside it, a toilet on the other side. The sink was just barely jutting out of the wall yet you still managed to hoist yourself up to it. You grabbed Dalton, who was far too happy to oblige, and smashed his lips against yours. 

All of the tension that had been living within the two of you seemed to fuel the moment. He parted your legs with his hand so he could stand between them. His boldness only turned you on more. You wrapped a leg around his, both of his hands on your sides, gently hiking up your shirt so he could touch your bare skin. 

Your brain was muddled. There was nothing in the world anymore except Dalton and his lips and his hair and his body against yours, hot, flush, more toned than you would’ve thought. His lips left yours to trail down your neck. You moaned, which made him visibly react. 

Dalton had never felt better, he was convinced. He could live in this bathroom with you forever and never grow unhappy. You put the back of your head against the mirror. Though your torso moved back he didn’t let it stop him from being pressed against you. 

Right then, you would’ve done anything he asked. You were all too happy to melt down to your knees. In fact, you were thinking about it as his lips nipped your collar bone. You let out a sharp breath and was about to push him backwards so you could sink off the counter when the adjoining door flew open. 

You both jumped, suddenly broken out of the moment. Even though he was startled, his hands didn’t leave your side, he just backed up a bit. 

Chris stood in the doorway, her mouth open wide. Then she started to laugh. A hearty laughter, mixed with genuine surprise. 

“Sorry to interrupt!” You grabbed a towel that was on the rack and threw it at her. She dodged it. 

“We’re in the middle of something Chris,” Dalton said, voice dangerously low and borderline seductive. You glanced at him, chest still heaving. 

“I can tell. Maybe next time you guys should lock the doors. Anyone could walk in.” 

“Duly noted,” he said. You gestured for her to leave. She stayed put. 

“This must be much better than what happened in the bathroom at the last party you went to Dalton.” He rolled his eyes, not even able to bring himself to care. It crossed your mind to just go back to the dorms so you wouldn’t have to deal with interruptions. It felt so far away. You had only been here 20 minutes but it now felt like 20 minutes too long. 

Your hand was still lazily hanging off Dalton’s shoulder. 

“This door doesn’t lock,” she said, twisting it. 

“Alright,” you said. 

“You wanna give someone a free show?” Your knees hurt. Hurt wasn’t exactly the right word. Your knees ached. 

“Chris,” you said. 

“I’m warning you. Anything anyone sees could be recorded.” You pushed yourself off the counter. Dalton stumbled back. You grabbed his hand. 

“We’re going back to the dorms.” 

“We just got here!” she exclaimed. 

“Dorms,” you said. She laughed a bit, lips parted in pleasant surprise. 

“Yes ma’am. I’ll see you guys back there.” You pushed past her. 

“Knock when you get there!” Dalton called as you dragged him back down the stairs. Chris rolled her eyes. The things on the counter had been shoved to the ground, toothpaste in the sink, towel on the ground. 

“Damn guys.”

[friedbaekhyunandeggso]

found you - ch. 5 (part II)

pairing: gojo satoru x female oc (ara natsuna)

tropes: psycho! rival! athlete! yandere! gojo x introvert! booksmart! sheltered! rbf! oc

warnings: 18+ only babes, stalking/possessive themes, profanity, coercion, pet names (kitten, baby, my sweet, cupcake), underage drinking, w33d, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm denial, rough sex, overstimulation, dub/non-consented sex, drunk sex, handjob (if i missed any jus tell me but pls fr don't read this unless ur an adult)

word count/plot: [15.1k!] ara catches gojo's attention when news breaks that she is the top academically ranked student in their grade. he is ranked second. he tries to befriend her but she ignores him. despite her obvious disinterest, his obsession begins..

a/n: here's part 2, i thought it would take 3 posts to post this chapter but it seems its about to take four smh. more content for u guys tho!! woot woot!! happy reading

ch. 1 , ch. 2 [ part 1 | part 2 ] , ch. 3 , ch. 4 , chapter 5 [ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 ]

Shoko sat her down in front of a vanity.

“Alright, now that hair is done we can do makeup.”

Ara stared as Shoko opened all the drawers of the extravagant vanity before her, revealing a countless amount of high-end makeup. Most of it barely touched.

“Shoko!!” a girl yelled from downstairs.

“What!” Shoko yelled back only for silence to follow.

She rolled her eyes as she mumbled to herself, “What does Arden want now,” she gestured toward the makeup, “Knock yourself out, I’ll be back.”

“Wait—“

Shoko turned around, eyes alert.

Ara hesitated before admitting, “I don’t know how to do my makeup.”

Her eyes widened, “Forreal?” She then crossed her arms, “Actually I can’t even blame you, I only started doing my makeup like a year ago.”

“Would your Mom do it for you?” she asked, considering the fact that the vanity before them was hers.

“Nah, I had a makeup artist.” Shoko appeared to be in thought before she said, “Hold on.”

She walked out of the room and yelled, “Anybody here good at makeup??!”

A ton of feminine voices arose, answering her. Ara wasn’t the least bit surprised since half of their school’s female population was here.

She heard Shoko yell something before peeking her head back in the room, “Alright, we got help for makeup. Do you want anything to drink?”

Ara hesitated. She’d told herself that she wouldn’t drink after the last party but—

“SHOKO!!”

“IM COMING IDIOT!” Shoko yelled back before saying, “I’ll be back.”

She left within a blink of an eye, only for someone else to enter the room a second later. Karina.

Ara stared as Karina walked closer, looking insanely perfect as usual. She also had a bottle of Pink Whitney in her hand.

She set the bottle down on the vanity, “You need help with your makeup?”

Ara waited for the random bout of laughter erupting from somewhere downstairs to pass before answering, “Yeah..”

“I got you,” she murmured before looking through the drawers for something. She seemed to find it and asked, “You already washed your face right?”

“Yes.”

Karina quietly applied the primer to her face before suddenly asking, “Why didn’t you come to my party that time?” she paused in her actions, “I was expecting you..”

Fuck. It’d been months, Ara had hoped she’d forgotten. Besides, that night had probably been one of the worst moments of her life. She wanted to laugh—to think all of it started simply because she wanted to go to her party.

“Yeahh, I wasn’t able to make it.” she muttered vaguely.

“Why?”

“I think I was too tired.” she lied.

“Hmm,” Karina picked up another product and swatched it on her wrist, “I see you got back with him.”

Ara glanced at her but was unable to gauge anything from her countenance, “I- I did.“

Suddenly Karina sighed, “Ugh, I don’t blame you. He eats pussy so damn good.”

Ara’s eyes widened as she continued, “And his dick-why'd it have to be so big? I miss it so damn bad sometimes.”

She shook her head, “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t be saying that to his girlfriend but—“ she paused, as if considering something, “He really does like you, y’know.” she muttered begrudgingly.

Ara had a lot to say but settled on, “What makes you say that?”

She paused, masking her hesitation by pretending to look extra focused while dabbing the beauty blender against her skin, “He doesn't answer my texts. Even when you guys broke up he didn’t.”

“You texted him?” Ara asked incredulously.

Karina blushed, “Well—yeah.”

Ara glanced away, she supposed that answered all of her questions.

She then added, as if guilty, “Well, you guys were obviously over then but-like-before we always used to hook up. Like, it didn’t matter who else he fucked he’d always come back to me.”

Ara thought she sensed an undercurrent of possessiveness until she cleared her throat, “But ever since you got into the picture.. he’s different, I guess.”

“Loyal, you mean.” Ara replied flatly.

Karina stopped using the beauty blender, “How’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Lock him down?”

Ara shifted in her seat, “..I honestly don’t know.”

Karina didn’t meet her eyes, merely playing with the concealer in her hand, “I mean.. I see it, you-” she cut herself off as if it hurt to admit, “you are pretty, in that black cat kinda way. I just- I’ve never seen him like that,” her voice faded out slightly, “He’s obsessed with you. I can see it in his face-“

“Trust, it’s not something you want.” she answered instinctively.

“Really?” she asked curiously, “Why not?”

She saw the thoughts brewing within Ara’s mind as she slowly asked, “Has he.. ever done anything.. that scared you?”

“Scared me?” she questioned before appearing to contemplate it, “No?-wait, there was this one time where he freaked me the fuck out cuz I thought I was home alone and he kept moving things around, making me think an intruder or some shit was in the house but-“ she rolled her eyes, “it was just him.”

Ara blinked. The scariest thing he’d done to her was show her he was capable of committing murder without a scratch, while she was talking about a prank.

Karina chuckled to herself, as if it were a fond memory before meeting her gaze, “How’d he scare you?” she asked lightly.

It was clear to Ara then, that Karina had gotten a different Gojo than she had. The side of Gojo she seemed to have was specifically curated just for her, apparently.

Ara tilted her head, deciding to say something partially true, “He scares me when he jokes about baby trapping me.”

Karina laughed before tilting her head back to pour her drink down her throat. She made a face as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

“Fuck, my lipstick-“ she quickly turned around, looking in the mirror to make sure it was right.

In the midst of re-applying some lip gloss, Karina asked, “Who went back to who?”

“Huh?”

“I mean after the breakup,” her voice wavered, as if aware she was prying but couldn’t help it, “Who went back to who. I can imagine him begging you to take him bac-“

“I went to him.”

“Oh?” she raised a brow before turning away from the mirror to look her in the eye.

Ara knew that the whole school knew she broke up with him. She didn’t know how but she assumed it had something to do with Gojo telling his friends or everyone catching onto his lingering stares and moody demeanor during their breakup.

Karina sighed, “you missed him didn’t you.”

“no.” Ara replied a little too fast.

Karina gave her a pointed look.

She suddenly glared, “No, you don’t understand.” her words came out sharp, “He’s not who everybody thinks he is. At all. I shouldn’t miss him, need him, or even think about him honestly but I-“

She placed her head down on the vanity before her. Her arms around her head covering her face, “I’m a mess.” she whispered.

Never in a million years would Karina ever think she’d want to console someone-especially her-and yet, she did. Something about her was oddly compelling, in a way she couldn’t understand but she almost… wanted to.

Karina found her hand resting on Ara’s shoulder, she honestly didn’t know how it got there.

“Look,” Karina spoke calmly, “I don’t know what’s going on with you two but.. i’m pretty sure it’s not illegal to like someone. Sure, issues happen and it feels like the end of the fucking world each time but we’re just in high school. Is it ever that deep?”

Ara wanted to laugh at how trivial she made high school sound. As if it were just a kids playground and not the sole stepping stone to her ideal future.

Karina couldn’t tell if she was truly hopeful or being sarcastic when she overheard her murmur, “High school.. just high school.”

Ara was squished between Shoko’s friends on the couch, whom she was slowly starting to recognize.

“Karina really popped off with your makeup,” Mina said, “I’m gonna need her to do mine next.”

Ara believed her, especially from the way she was staring. She smiled halfheartedly, “Thanks.”

“Ara!”

She turned her head to see where the voice was coming from. It was hard to focus with the music blasting, girls chatting and cameras flashing in every corner of the house, The scent of weed and expensive perfume hung in the air… and Ara-surprisingly-didn’t hate it.

“Yo,” A hand suddenly snapped in front of her. It was Shoko.

Ara liked the way she’d pin-straightened her short hair. It suited her, she could almost imagine how she would look when she was older.

“You need to stop lookin’ moody and be happy. Midterms are over.”

Ara raised a brow, “I’m not moody.”

“Yes, you are. You look like you want to kill someone.”

“What-“

“Oh my god!” Leah suddenly yelled before pointing at the tray before them, “Did you make those?”

Ara hadn’t noticed but it seemed a tray of ombré yellow-orange drinks in cute clear glasses was on the table now. The drinks were topped with ice, cherries and a piece of pineapple. It looked delicious.

“Duh, why do you think I was in the kitchen for so long?” Shoko then bent down to pick up a cup, gesturing that they all do the same.

Arden-who sat on the other side of her-took a sniff of the drink, “How much rum did you put in this?”

Shoko smiled, “Don’t worry about it.”

Arden laughed and Ara couldn’t help but stare at her. How could she tell from one sniff?

Leah stuffed a drink in her hands and Ara looked down at the glass, at her blurry reflection in the ice. She didn’t need to sniff to smell the pineapple and orange juice within the drink.

“What is this?” she asked.

Arden turned to look at her, as if in shock.

Mina chuckled, “It’s a Mai Tai.”

Leah randomly babbled, “Yeah, it’s actually the first drink I had when I was eight.”

“Wait-“ Shoko suddenly deadpanned, “This is your first time drinking this?”

Ara blinked, “..i haven’t drank it yet but, yes.”

“No way.” Arden gasped.

Shoko beamed, “I am so honored. I’ll make you more whenever you want it.”

Mina rolled her eyes, “It’s not that good.”

“Then why don’t you give it back-“

She stared down at the drink once more, tuning out their bickering until she blurted, “Am I gonna die?”

Arden was cracking up, maybe she was naive but she didn’t care. She’d made a vow to herself to never drink but.. she actually wanted to this time. And that scared her.

It scared her because she wasn’t the type to break her own promises. And yet, all she could think about was that blind happiness she felt the last time she was drunk. That comfortable lightness that took over her thoughts and body, letting her tongue run loose and her mind go bye bye.

It was nice, so nice. Until it wasn’t. Until her memories came b-

Suddenly Shoko’s hand was on her chin, “We’re all gonna die one day, right.”

“Cornball.” Mina joked.

Shoko stuck her tongue out before raising her glass towards them, “Shut up and drink.”

And they did. With a clink of glasses, her vow was broken.

There she is.

A grin split across his lips when he spotted her. His bright eyes looked her up and down before groaning internally. She wore a sleeveless maroon mini-dress that ended just a little under her hips. The dress was skin-tight, barely hanging onto her sensuous tits-which sat so fucking nicely cuz she was braless. Fuck. He loved when she was braless.

She was mid conversation, running a hand through her thick locks when he came up behind her.

“Hey sexy~” he smiled into her temple when he felt her jump. His arms instinctively went around her, his hands sliding up her waist-her ribs-about to cup her b–

She stopped his hands right at her underboobs, merely placing her hands over his and keeping them there. He whined slightly.

“Toru,” she admonished before turning around. She looked up at him with the sweetest of smiles, it was always so subtle-just a little curve to the right end of her pouty lips. God, he wanted to devour her.

She tilted her head, “You’re finally here.”

She looked more stunning up-close, if that was even possible. His hand went to her hips, drawing her closer. He hadn’t noticed her lips moving until she cupped his chin and shook his face-

“Satoru, can you hear me?”

He pretended to bite her fingers, chasing her hand away from his chin.

Her hands came to rest on his chest, “Can you stop checking me out and answer my question.”

He shook his head, smiling boyishly, “I can’t. You look too good. Too good.”

He licked his lips and she shoved him, laughing, “Shut up.”

He grabbed her by the hips again, tugging her close, “Never, never, never~” He buried his face into her neck making her giggle slightly. 

She attempted to shove his shoulders as he began to nip at the crook in her neck, “Toru–”

“Let's find a room.”

She finally managed to push his shoulders back, “No.”

Her eyes searched his face as he pouted, “Why?”

“Cuz..” her gaze dropped from his eyes to his chest, then back up again, “not here.”

His pout deepened, “I missed you.”

Her eyes narrowed, but a tiny smile managed to find its way to her lips anyway, “Even though you saw me in school a few hours ago?”

He nodded, his white hair flopping slightly, “Too long.”

Her hands interlocked behind his neck, his mind going haywire when her chest pressed into him as she leaned closer. She tilted her head, “You just want to be in my skin.”

“I do. I do. I do. I do.”

She smiled lazily–as if she already knew. He leaned down to kiss her and she let him. His lips moved against hers while she stayed firm, kissing him back steadily–slowly. Always pacing him, wasn’t she? She broke the kiss, giving him one last peck before leaning back. 

He leaned towards her, as if chasing her lips but she quickly placed her finger over his mouth.

“Noo.” she chided him as if he were a puppy.

He smirked before sighing, “Fine. Fine.”

He moved a piece of her hair behind her ear, “What was your question?”

“I asked what took you so long.”

“I went over to Suguru’s cuz they were pre-gaming at his,” He suddenly broke out into a smile, “Haibara broke his TV.”

Her eyes widened, “What–how?”

“He was flying the remote control helicopter and-BOOM! TV cracked. I think he hit the wrong button or something but I was dying.” He chuckled.

She shook her head, “Of course you were. How did Geto react?”

“Oh he was mad. Haibara said sorry a million times but I know he’s still mad.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, “He probably needs a drink.”

He grinned, “Forsure,” He slipped his hand into hers, “Let's go bother him.”

She smiled faintly, “Lets.”

“So that's why-“ Suguru suddenly cut himself off when the song switched, his gaze cut to Satoru.

Satoru's eyes widened before backing up a bit to dance slightly, “Yoo this song.”

Satoru began to get a bit of a groove on while Geto nodded his head in sync with the beat. Ara glanced around to see others on the patio doing the same–dancing.

Suddenly Satoru took her wrist, tugging her towards himself, “Dance with me, Ara.”

She tilted her face up to meet his eyes, “No way.”

Just as she stepped away he pulled her back. His arms slipping around her waist, “C’monnn~”

“i can’t dance—like at all.”

“Who cares,” he whined, “just dance.”

She stepped away from him, raising her hands, “That’s all you, buddy.”

“C’monn, don’t do this to me!” he pouted as she walked off.

The music thumped around them as people hollered the lyrics.

Mina lowered the mascara wand and held onto the sink, “Goddamn, the whole house is shaking,” she sucked her teeth, “Can’t a girl fix her mascara in peace.”

Ara ran a hand through her hair, removing a random piece of glitter with a frown.

“Should we get more shots?”

Ara glanced over to see Mina looking at her expectantly.

It didn’t sound like a bad idea.. Ara smiled somewhat shyly, “Sure.”

Mina’s face brightened, “Bet. Let's go.”

The girls giggled as they ran out of the bathroom.

Shoko was dancing in front of her, singing the lyrics word for word. Her hands on Ara’s shoulders as they moved with the beat. Arden, Leah and Mina surrounded them. The patio was so crowded it seemed like everyone was outside.

“Somebody come get herrr,” everyone sang along, “She dancing like a stripper.” (a/n: song - come get her by rae sremmurd)

Ara swayed her hips, unaware of the bottle getting passed around until Shoko made a mischievous expression. Ara noticed her arm was raised and glanced up, only to see a bottle getting tilted over her.

Ara instinctively tilt her head back, opening her mouth to take in the liquor. She felt some of it trickle past her lips as Shoko jumped along to the music.

Everyone sang the lines, “somebody come get herr, she’s feelin’ all the liquor.”

Gojo was mid-conversation when a tiny bundle bustled into him and sat on his lap. He glanced over to see Ara.

“Ara.” he stated in surprise before giving her a onceover. She looked flushed. Her thick hair was wavier-probably due to the humidity-and her eye makeup had smudged slightly, making the color of her eyes pop. His eyes dropped down to her freshly coated, glossy lips.

Goddamn. He placed his hand low on her stomach as she leaned her head against his slightly, “Hey.”

He smirked, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Choso interjected flatly.

He’d completely forgotten Choso was there. Ara’s eyes brightened as she greeted, “Choso!”

Choso froze-as if starstruck, “H-hello.”

She moved as if to give him a hug but Gojo used his hand on her stomach to keep her close. He raised a brow in surprise, she was not a hugger and he didn’t want her to start being one now.

A soft laugh left him, “Are you drunk?”

She blinked, “No.” She looked between him and Choso before adding, “I just want to sit.”

Gojo smiled subtly, “‘Kay.” He kissed her temple before facing Choso, “What were you saying?”

“Right, so…” and they drifted off into a conversation that Ara could care less about. She truly did need to sit. Her legs hurt from all that dancing. Damn heels.

She shifted on his lap and shifted again, trying to sit comfortably until his hand tightened around her side. “Ara-” he murmured but it was too late, she’d already discovered his hard-on. Her ass was directly on it.

“Right?” Choso suddenly asked.

Gojo blinked, “Uh-yeah.” Not having a damn clue what he was agreeing to.

“Exactly so..” Choso went on.

Gojo had completely lost interest in the conversation when a fierce blush appeared on her cheeks. She’d gone completely still, except for her hand on his knee. Her fingers seemed to flit slightly.

“-I’m telling you, seeing him live is different,” Choso sighed before asking, “Do you think you're gonna go this year?”

“This year..” Gojo faintly repeated the last words he heard, attempting to focus, “It depends..”

“Oh but listen the third time I saw him it was crazy cuz—“

Suddenly her ass-ever so subtly-pressed against his erection, making his eyes widen. He glanced down at her, only then noticing that her hand had tightened around his knee. It was dark enough in the room that no one could see her rubbing her ass against him, especially with how slow she was moving.

His mouth parted in shock, almost wishing the flickering lights could hit them so he could see her ass move on him. He quickly closed his mouth before Choso noticed, he honestly didn’t know how the guy was still going.

He grit his teeth, trying not to groan as her ass cheeks grinded on him. The way her ass pressed against his length was something else—it was only making him stiffer by the second.

She felt so soft against his cock, moving at that agnizing pace.. The last thing he wanted to do was be still, he was gonna lose it.

He wanted to see her face but she wasn’t facing him. He bit his lower lip, hiding his grin. Fuck—he didn’t know she could be like this.

Her ass started to slowly move up and down and he nearly lost it. He hissed, his fingers digging into her hip-but she didn’t stop.

His arms slipped around her torso, tugging her against him as he spoke into her hair-breathless, “Ara..”

She finally faced him, her eyes radiating with mischief.

Oh that’s it. He didn’t have to think when he scooped her up in his arms and stood.

Choso raised a brow, midst speech, “Yo?”

Gojo didn’t spare him a glance, “I’ll be back.”

“Satoru!” she shrieked as she was tossed onto the bed.

He climbed atop her and her hands loosely cupped his neck, “Satoruu..” she whined while shaking her head, “What are you doing? I was just playing.”

“I know, cupcake,” he leaned down to press a heady kiss to her lips. The kind of kiss that rushed through her veins, making her body liquify with fervor until her cloudy thoughts grew clear–crystalizing his want, his need. 

He broke the kiss, leaving a string of saliva between them until he spoke, “I know,” He looked her up and down, “But I don’t wanna play anymore.”

His hand ran down her side, “I wanna have all of you,” He nipped the end of her jaw, “Here, now.”

“Toru..” she whined softly. Her head was spinning. She was too drunk to move on her own. Her fingers twitched over his neck, “Toru, we can’t.. not here.”

“Yes here.”

“Toru-

He easily hoisted her legs over his shoulders, sliding her further up the bed. He then pulled the bottom of her dress up to her waist. The second he glanced between her legs, he groaned. He never got tired of the sight of her cunt adorned in lace panties. It was like a gift wrapped just for him.

She cupped his face, tugging him closer, “Toru please-” Why’d she have to sound so sweet and needy? “Please.. Not here,” She searched his face, “Home, only at home.”

He stared into her dazed eyes for a moment before groaning. He pressed his forehead into hers, “Kitten you can’t just wear this sexy lil dress, grind on me and expect me not to fuck the shit outta you,” He shook his head, “S’not fair.”

His hand slid up her side, hooking under the fabric of her dress to tug it lower–until her chest spilled out the top, “Where’d you learn how to move like that anyway..”

His eyes drank in the sight of her bare tits before meeting her gaze, “You do that to anyone else?”

Color rose to her cheeks as she stared up at him in silence.

She cried out when he began to grind himself against her cunt. She could feel every inch of him–how hard he was. Each stroke against her fast and purposeful, ringing with desperation.

His forehead pressed into her temple, forcing her face aside as he panted, “Answer me.”

She mewled as his grinding picked up, “N-no-ngh! you know this–I’ve never been with an-anyone bu-unnhh-but you.”

He smirked against her cheek before slightly raising his head. His smirk was handsome enough to make her forget how to breathe. It didn’t help that his vibrant eyes seemed to simmer with lust. He knew the answer; he just liked to hear her say it.

He slowed his hips down to drop his face into her neck. His lips instantly finding that sweet spot in the crook of her shoulder and nipped at it. He licked up the dessert-like, mocha perfume on her skin–fuck, he couldn’t get enough. He tasted makeup as well. It seemed Shoko had covered his baby’s love bites. How dare she..

Suddenly the corner of his lip curled deviously. I’ll just decorate her all over again.

He tilted his head, allowing his lips and teeth to mark her as he pleased. His fingers sank into her tits as he palmed her areola, urging her cute perky nipples out. She was moaning and whining so sweetly underneath him—god, he needed to fuck her bad.

“T-toru, not now,” she whimpered, inadvertently rubbing her cunt against his bulge as she churned underneath him.

He groaned into her neck. The pressure of her rowdy hips against his clothed cock—Oh, she had to be dying for it.

“Please-not here. Only at home, Toru, at home.” she whined, her small hands pushing at his chest uselessly.

Suddenly he drew his face back-his voice completely haggard, “Fine, fine. At home.”

His bedazzling eyes fixed themselves on hers, “I’ll have all of you at home..but.. you have to let me do one thing here.”

She spoke through uneven breaths, “W-what is it?”

His eyes lingered on the way her tits moved with each ragged inhale. He felt himself grow tighter inside his pants. Fuck, he really wanted take all of her here.

His eyes swam with lust and mischief as he leaned into her, his cock pressing against her warm cunt, “I wanna taste you.”

“Where’s Gojo?” Toji asked over the blaring music. “He’ll def wanna go. He loves that shit.”

Nanami shrugged.

He glanced over and punched Geto’s shoulder, “yo-you know where he is?”

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend, who else.”

Geto was about to make a snarky retort only to hesitate when he realized he truly didn’t know where he’d gone.

“What are you looking so confused for?” Shoko sauntered before them, joint in hand.

“You know where Gojo is?” Toji asked.

“Satoru? He’s busy.”

Geto raised a brow, “With what?”

“You didn’t see him throw Ara on his shoulder? He took her upstairs,” she took a hit from her joint, shaking her head, “Thank God it's not my house.”

“Damn, already?” Toji grinned, “Can’t blame him though, did ya see her dress?”

Nanami instantly glared at him, “Stop that.”

She was lost. Lost in the abyss of pleasure that made her lose any and all sense—if she had any in the first place. His tongue was so unfair.

The tip of his tongue flicked her clit–making her jerk as she moaned. His hands on her spread thighs the only thing keeping her legs open and body semi-still.

She threw her head back, breathless, as she shook her head side to side, “Satoru.. Satoru!”

His tongue was suddenly gone, his lips still on her most sensitive part. He backed away slightly, lightly kissing her throbbing clit, “You close, kitten?”

Her body twitched, “Toru–stop, stop teasing me.”

Even through her drunkenness she could hear how helpless she sounded. He always knew how to make her so weak.

He chuckled, the faint exhale against her cunt making her inner thighs tremble. She could feel the sensation of her orgasm suspended within her, waiting to spill given the right touch. His touch.

He stared up at her, his eyes gleaming with hunger and a tinge of that typical demeaning playfulness. But she knew he was far from unaffected by this–if anything, playing with her always seemed to get him on to a different degree.

“That’s how it feels like, kitten,” he blew on her tense nub, making her twitch once-more.

“Toru!” she cried.

“--that’s how it feels when you put this pretty pussy on me and tell me not to fuck you.”

His lips found her clit again, sucking it oh so delicately—not nearly enough friction as she needed. She whined helplessly.

He lightly kissed her clit once more, “You wanna cum, kitten?”

She was too out of it to respond. His fingers dug into her soft thighs, making her gasp.

“Let me fuck you here,” his voice was low and eager, desperate, “ ‘Kay?”

She squeezed her eyelids shut, her bent legs wavering in the air. “Toru.. I can’t–can’t think-”

He chuckled faintly, “Then don’t, my sweet, don’t.” His lips were terribly close to her nub again, “I’ll think for you.”

He was instantly lapping her clit up—the pace so consistent that she was easily driven insane. Her breath hitched and suddenly his mouth cupped her clit just right, his tongue probing her most reactive spot.

She cried out as her body bucked. She didn’t see the amount of liquid she squirted out but she felt it pour out of her. The feeling of euphoria that pulsed through her cunt made her thighs shake from its force. Her moan was so loud and defenseless, she couldn’t help but judge herself for how desperate she sounded.

His hands tightened around her thighs to keep her legs spread as he drank in the sight. He loved this–every single bit of her. Her shattered expression down to the taste of her silky juices. She always had so much to give him..

and he knew how to hunt it out of her.

His cock sank into her and he immediately groaned. Her cunt wrapped around him so viscerally tight. She was so fucking hot inside he might as well have dipped himself in warmed honey.

He couldn’t stand it–how perfect she was. Her arched body raised at the hips to let him press into her this deep. Her waist twisting as she lay face down, making the sexiest little sounds as her hands fisted the sheets. He needed all of her. Now.

He squeezed her ass before fucking her exactly the way he wanted to the second his eyes landed on her in that slutty little dress. Her pussy was only his to use and tear apart like this.

The squelching sound of his cock delivering fuck after fuck to her sweet core was music to his ears. He whimpered at the feeling of her walls gripping the sides of his cock like it craved his seed–like it needed him to stay inside.

He bent over her, keeping his forehead to the crown of her head as he gripped her waist. His hands large enough that his fingertips met on either side of her.

He didn’t stop–his cock bullying into her boundlessly.

“I’ll give you what you want, Ara..” his rugged voice trailed down her spine, “I’ll always give you what you want.”

He shoved his cock deep into her and she screamed. He buried his face into her nape as he emptied his balls within her. Cum spewing endlessly from his tip as it filled the condom to its brim. Pleasure consuming every cell in his body.

“Ara..” he groaned against her back, eyes squeezed shut as he retracted his hips slightly and shoved his cock back in. She cried out as he groaned again. His cock felt so fucking good inside her.

“Never have enough of you..” his low voice was filled with such unrestrained desire– “never.”

She gasped, loud enough to make his eyes flutter open.

He reached out, his arm easily wrapping around her waist before he shifted in bed to face her, “What is it?” he mumbled sleepily.

She glanced at him with wide eyes, “Sorr-”

Suddenly he snatched the phone from her hands, quickly turning over in bed so she couldn’t snatch it back if she tried.

His brows scrunched together, “Nails?” On her phone was a picture of hands, hands with very pretty detailed fake nails on Pinterest. He looked over at her, “You want these?”

She jumped over him, snatching the phone from his hand, “Yes, but I didn’t want to wake you up.”

His eyes widened when he felt her bare tits press into his chest as she partially laid over him. Her eyes widened a second later and she quickly turned over, taking majority of the sheets with her. Her back was facing him.

He grinned, scooting closer to her before tugging the blanket slightly, draping more of it over himself. He propped himself on an elbow before sliding his free hand under the sheets. He touched her waist before sliding his hand under her arm around her chest. He sighed when he felt her bare tits against his forearm.

He tugged her close and she squirmed slightly, “Toru-”

He kissed underneath her ear-where several hickeys remained, “Last night was fun.”

She blushed, “For you. I’m sore as hell right now.”

He grinned as she pushed at his arm, “I can’t believe you did that. I was drunk, y’know.”

“You said you weren’t-”

“You knew I was.”

He stuffed his face into her shoulder as his arm tightened around her, “It’s your fault tho, you tempted me.” he whined.

“I didn’t tempt you-”

“Grinding on me?”

She blushed furiously, “I was drunk.”

“You're so hot when you're drunk.”

She reached over and smacked his head at her shoulder. She felt him chuckle into her neck as he yelled, “aH!”

“Gojo I’m serious,” her voice wavered, “I’m really sore. It hurts. You should.. really let me be when I’m like that.”

He was still for a moment before rubbing her hip under the blanket, “I’m sorry, baby–kay? I’m sorry,” He raised his head to lightly kiss her cheek, “I’ll try to do better next time,” He kissed her jaw, “--even though it’s hard–” he lightly squeezed her ass, “--especially when you rub this cute ass on me.”

“Satoru–”

He buried his face into her shoulder again, his arm winding around her chest once-more, “I know, I know,”

She felt him sigh into her neck, “I can’t think when I wanna fuck you y’know. I jus have to be inside..”

She closed her eyes, “I know.”

“..it’s a miracle we even got home.” he mumbled to her neck.

“When did we get home?” Ara asked, suddenly curious since she didn’t remember a second of it.

“Around three. You were passed out by then.”

“Hmm..” 

He kissed her shoulder, “You talked to Millie?”

Her eyes shot open, as if surprised–but he’d overheard Millie’s familiar voice when she’d gone to the bathroom earlier.

“Yeah, she called,” she muttered, “She wanted to know all the tea from last night.”

“She’s still grounded?”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, it’s killing her.”

He smiled slightly, “I bet it is.”

“Andd you’re all set.” The nail lady backed up with a smile.

Ara glanced down at her nails in shock. They looked just like the picture, maybe even better. She outstretched her fingers slightly, looking at both sides of her hands. She felt oddly… empowered. Despite it being the first time getting her nails done, she immediately saw the appeal.

She stood up, still staring at her nails, “Wow, these are… amazing, thank you.”

The nail lady’s smile widened, “Of course.”

She faltered at giving her a smile back before walking out of the beauty room–which she didn’t even know she had. She’d only been joking when she’d told Satoru she was too lazy to get out the house but it didn’t matter–he’d brought the nail salon to her. In mere minutes he was able to book an at-home session with a celebrity nail technician. It was baffling. 

And yet, her stomach bubbled with excitement.. excitement that she inexplicably had to share. She walked into their bedroom, only to find no one there.

She walked further into the room, only to find the attached balcony doors open. He was leaning against the railing, talking on the phone. The closer she approached she noticed a few notebooks and his laptop open on one of the tables outside.

He ended the call, tossing his phone up in the air and catching it precariously before sauntering towards his books.

Just as he sat and leaned back in his chair, she asked, “You're studying?”

He immediately glanced up, his big blue eyes instantly brightening once they landed on her, “Ara!”

His eyes dropped to her hands and she quickly hid them behind herself with a small smile.

He squinted playfully, “Lemme seee-“

To his surprise she fast-walked over, holding out her hands for him to see, “Look-look, it looks just like the picture. The almond shape, colors, everything—“ he stared at her, mesmerized by the look of child-like fascination on her countenance as she continued, “I can’t believe it. She even made the stone on my middle finger smaller because I asked. It’s so sparkly too. And the butterfly??” she shook her head, smiling, “-insanity.”

She outstretched her new talons, her smile widening unknowingly, “I love them.”

He tugged her closer, despite her already standing in front of him. Her hand rested on his shoulder as she was drawn in between his long legs. His arms slipped around her waist as he stared up at her, “You love them, kitten?”

She nodded before glancing down at him, “What do you think?”

“I think I need to tip her well for making you smile like that.”

She rolled her eyes-blushing, “Stop flirting.”

“No really-“ he picked up her hand, finally looking at the nails for the first time, “If getting these little fingers dolled up makes my baby happy i’ll have her here every week.”

“Not every week. They’re supposed to last two to three weeks.” she informed him.

“Hmm,” His thumb suddenly brushed the skin underneath the knuckle of her ring finger. His blue eyes flashed with something before he met her gaze with a smirk, “Can’t wait to put something here.”

She snatched her hand away, “You’re so annoying.”

His smirk widened, “You’d love it if I proposed-”

“I’d literally reject you.”

“WHAT?!—you would?”

“I would.”

“Whyyyy~you meanie. Do you even care about me.” he pouted.

Suddenly her hands slid into his hair and she was kissing him. The rest of his whines swept up by her tongue as she bent over him, deepening the kiss invasively. Her nails raked through his thick, white hair as she tugged his face close as if she needed him closer. He nearly groaned.

She broke the kiss, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip as she asked, “Still think I don't care?”

His eyes widened at her quietly spoken words. The flush that bloomed across his cheeks couldn’t be helped. For once, he was speechless.

He held her gaze for a short moment before leaning towards her. Before his lips could connect with hers, she scurried off of him—backing up several steps.

“No, no, no, satoru. You need to study and so do I.”

He was already whining again, “Whyyy~”

“Because,” she shrugged as she walked backwards, “we have to.”

He stood up and she immediately bolted inside the house. He chased after her, giggles and laughter following their wake.

She stared up at the stars and he stared at her. He wondered if she had a morsel of a clue of how much she meant to him.

Loving her was easy for him, as easy as breathing, as easy as the sharp exhale that escaped him when she first turned her back on him.

Sure, it started as a challenge then. A game that only she and him could understand but, he saw her now. He knew why she was the way she was and he liked it. all of it.

He learned her skin, her mind, her voice, her loneliness and he wanted all of it. all of it for himself.

She didn’t know how much he loved her unpredictably. her brattiness, her anger, her kindness, her tears. She gave him her everything and he’d take it every time. It didn’t matter where they were, what universe they were in, he’d find her. He’d always find her.

She turned her head on the grass and looked at him, “Are you even looking at the stars?”

“I am.”

He saw her freeze for a moment. He anticipated her witty response, something like ‘how many times have you used that line’ or ‘aren’t you smooth’ but she held his gaze.

He saw her look between his eyes before her gaze dropped to his lips. He watched as she slowly drew herself up next to him, balancing herself on one elbow as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

He forced himself to stay still, despite his heart racing in anticipation. His eyes stayed on her as her hand came to rest on his cheek, his jaw. She gently pressed her lips to his and he nearly groaned. His hand slid up her side, squeezing her ribs as he tilted his face up–craving more of her.

Her hand on his jaw held him back, instead she lowered herself into him. Her lips prolonging the tenderness of the kiss before she backed away. He closed his eyes, refraining from chasing her lips.

He felt her fingers on his panting lips and opened his eyes. She was completely expressionless–which only made him more keen on knowing her thoughts.

“What do you want to be?” she suddenly asked, before adding, “-when you grow up.”

She expected an unserious response at first-maybe even something flirty. Something like ‘your husband’ or ‘a garbage man’ but-for once-he answered seriously.

He appeared contemplative, “I haven’t decided. I already got an offer from the NBA but I don’t know if I like basketball that much.”

He readjusted his head on his crossed arms, “Obviously, Coach is pushing for that but.. I think following my father’s footsteps would be more interesting.”

He glanced over at her, a small smile spreading across his lips, “As basic as it sounds.”

“Director of National Intelligence.” she stated, “For the US.”

“Yes.” he confirmed, while looking at her curiously. He couldn’t tell how she felt about that.

“Would that make you a politician?”

“Mmm, kind of? I’d obviously have to be a part of the same political party as the president in order to be recommended by him.”

“What else do you have to do?”

“Well, it varies. Some directors have military experience or climb in government service. Some have law degrees or extensive experience in intelligence agencies.”

“Intelligence agencies? Like the FBI?”

“Well, yes and no. It’s more the CIA and NSA-” at her look of confusion, he clarified, “National Security Agency-is experience that they might prefer but I have considered the FBI. It would be different from my Father’s past position but I wouldn’t mind dealing with domestic policy–well, they’re still involved in foreign intelligence threats but-”

He grinned, “Director of the FBI sounds hot doesn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes, “Of course you would say that.”

“It’s that or CEO of Gojo Industries.”

She blinked, having completely forgotten that. She assumed that was the main source of his family’s income. Long ago, another genius in his family found a more efficient way of processing crude oil, which later resulted in the creation of their family’s multi-industry company. Gojo industries is responsible for more than half of the world’s refineries. Despite being widespread on foreign level, they are still a private company.

She blinked in astonishment, “Well, what's stopping you from that?”

“Nothings stopping me but I feel like business is kinda boring,” he shrugged, “I’ll probably have to deal with that regardless.”

“You will?”

“Well I don’t have any siblings, do I?” He smiled slightly, “I guess I could just hire someone but I still wanna be involved, probably as chairman or something but good thing that’s a later problem.”

He poked her cheek, “What about you, kitten? What do you wanna be?”

“... a doctor.”

He squinted at her hesitance, “Do you really?”

She sighed, “No, it’s what my Dad wants me to be. I was kinda set on it but..”

The corner of his lip twitched slightly, “Never mind him, what do you want to be?”

She paused before saying-rather softly, “An artist.”

“Forreal?”

She nodded.

His face instantly brightened, “Can you draw me?”

“No.”

She skeptically watched him pretend to be in pain before adding, “You’re too ugly to draw.”

He immediately cut the act, “Now you're just lying.”

Ara stepped inside the Rolls Royce, closing the door after herself.

Ijichi popped his head from the driver’s seat, a warm smile on his lips, “Hello, Miss Ara.”

She opened her mouth-ready to tell him for the millionth time that he could simply call her Ara but she decided to let it be.  At least he hadn’t stepped out and opened the car door for her. He was learning.

She offered him a small smile in return.

She stared out of the car window, watching the other students buzz about until the car began to move.

“Are you okay, Miss?”

Her eyes flitted to the rear view mirror, meeting Ijichi’s concerned expression.

“Y-you seem.. unlike yourself.”

She supposed that was the nicest way he could say she looked off—which she’d been feeling like the whole day.

“Ijichi, can you do me a favor?”

He adjusted his glasses, “Yes?”

“Can you take me home?”

“I am taking you home, Miss.”

“I mean- my Dad’s home?”

“Of course.”

She stared at the house outside the car window. It should’ve felt familiar but it felt... indescribable really.

Ijichi glanced back at her, unsure of what to do since they’d been sitting out here for a good minute.

He looked between her and the house, “Would you like me to accompany you inside?” he offered unsurely.

“No!” she quickly cut herself off before running a hand through her hair, forcing herself to breathe.

“No,” she repeated, more calmly, “it’s fine. I just.. can we wait a few more minutes?”

It was silent for a beat before he answered, “Of course, miss.”

She could only imagine how confused he was right now but he d—suddenly the front door of the house opened and she immediately straightened in her seat. Thank god the windows were blacked out.

Her Dad stepped out. He was balancing himself on one crutch and there were less bandages on his face. His hair was clean-cut short and he was wearing pajamas-a matching set-something about that made her want to smile.

She watched him half-limp, half-walk towards the mailbox. He hastily pulled it open and grabbed the mail. He eyed it warily, rubbing his scruff as he did so before making his way back inside.

She waited until he closed the door behind himself to speak.

“We can go now, Ijichi.”

A low, soft moan left her until she realized there were lips on hers. Her eyes fluttered open to find Satoru in bed beside her.

“You’re back.”

He smiled subtly, his hand on her clavicle gently pushing her back down—“Yeah.”

Her eyes darted to the clock only for him to catch her chin, refocusing her attention on him.

“You took a nap?” he inquired softly.

“Yeah,” she closed her eyes, sighing when she felt him kiss her cheek, “dunno why.”

She blindly reached out to rest her hand on his chest, “How was practice?”

“S’good,” he slipped his arm underneath her head, sidling up next to her under the sheets, “would’ve been better if I was here with you instead.”

She smiled slightly, still sleepy enough to not want to open her eyes. She felt his long fingers tap her abdomen.

“Ara?”

“Mhm..”

A short silence ensued before he asked, “Why’d you go to your Dad’s house?”

Her eyes flew open to find him staring right at her, not one readable emotion on his face.

“I just.. wanted to see how he was doing.”

“Why?”

For some reason, she struggled to answer that. She thought it was obvious but maybe it wasn’t—to him.

“He’s my Dad.” was all she managed to say.

He was silent for another moment, it was so unlike him that she couldn’t help but get nervous.

“Do you miss him?” he suddenly asked, an odd undercurrent to his tone.

She quietly observed him. His floppy white hair, pale matte skin, long light lashes, spark-less blue eyes, the solemn set to his lips. Something about him seemed poised in a way that seemed to await her answer.

She couldn’t tell what was going on with him and maybe that should’ve scared her but..

She flattened her palm against his chest, “Are you mad at me?”

His eyes seemed to widen slightly before he blazed with color. He averted her gaze, “No.”

She touched his jaw, “Then why does it feel like it?”

He met her eyes, “It’s not—well,” He subtly shook his head, “I don’t like him, your Dad. I don’t like him at all.”

“Neither do I.”

His hand on her stomach slid around her side, drawing her closer, “You can’t live with him,” it was a demand but his voice wavered, his eyes pleading, “I don’t want you to.”

She stared up at him, her throat feeling oddly obstructed, “I don’t want to.”

“No?” he didn’t give her much time to respond, instead suddenly turning himself atop her. The tip of his nose brushing hers, “Good, cause..”

His vivid eyes didn’t leave hers, “I can’t let you leave.”

“You can’t?”

He shook his head, sliding his fingers through hers.

“Whyyyyy are you guys so boring,” Gojo whined.

“Stop yapping, Satoru.” Geto muttered, barely glancing up from his notebook.

Suddenly Ara felt something light knock into her temple and spotted a paper plane on the floor beside her seat. She glanced over to see Satoru staring at her across the table, a wide grin on his lips.

She kicked his seat, “Don’t bug me.”

Just as she faced her textbook again, he threw his arms up and flung back in seat.

“You guys studied yesterdayyy~” he whined.

A second before the paper plane hit his chin he caught it. His grin widened as he met Ara’s narrowed eyes.

“Just because you don’t have to study doesn’t mean everyone else doesn’t have to.”

“Don’t be jealous, baby.”

“No one is jealous.”

“You sure?”

Geto set his pen down, “I'm two seconds away from kicking you both out this study room.”

“Okay nerd.”

She straightened in her seat, “It’s not my fault! He’s distracting me.”

Geto glared at Satoru, “I’m about to kick you out.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Geto stood up and Ara’s eyes widened. Everything that happened next was a blur.

One second Geto’s hands were at Gojo’s collar then the next Geto was face first on the floor. The boys were kicking and hollering at each other, horse playing on the floor.

Ara slammed her textbook shut, easily gathering her things as she stood up.

“I’m out.” She closed the study room door behind her.

“Ara! Help me! Get this ape off me!” Gojo yelled.

She heard several camera snaps and turned around.

She attempted to smack the phone out of his hand but he easily raised it out of her reach.

“Why are you taking pics of me?” she demanded.

He smiled, his arms still upraised as he swiped through the pictures, “Because my kitten looks so pretty.”

“You see?” He said before placing the phone right up to her face.

It was.. admittedly a good picture. It was her from the back, staring off at the amusement park they’d just entered. Her silhouette looked good in her Miu Miu mini skirt and knee-length Naked Wolfe platform boots.

He snatched the phone back before she could even think to grab it from him. He was grinning to himself, swiping through the pictures once more.

“It’s good, right? You look so good.”

She sighed, tugging at his sleeve, “Toru, seriously. We got to. Shoko’s waiting for us.”

“Hold on, hold on. Let me make this my lockscreen.”

She glanced up when she heard him whistle. 

He was shaking Geto’s shoulder playfully before tossing his golf stick in the air–somehow making it land upright in the ground.

He glanced in her direction and jogged over, “Baby did you see my shot? It was such a good shot.”

She lowered her phone in her lap, “No.”

“Aww.” he plopped into the seat beside her, “I told you to watch mee~”

“You are such a kid.”

Suddenly he snatched the phone out of her hand, “Who are we texting?”

She tried to reach for her phone, “I’m not texting anybody-!”

He easily caught both her wrists in one hand and held up her phone in the other, “Ooo you looking at jewelry, baby?”

He swiped down to see her cart. It was all Van Cleef & Arpels–ranging from earrings, rings and dainty bracelets. It was all wildly out of her price range but it wasn’t like she was planning on buying it, she just liked to get inspiration.

“This is a nice bracelet,” he noted.

She glanced down to see the picture, “I know right.”

“I can’t wait to see it on your wrist.” he smirked.

Her eyes widened as she watched him go through with the cart, inputting his credit card details by memory.

“What are–”

“Sh, Sh, Sh-”

“Toru, wait-” but it was too late. The confirmation page of the order was already up on her phone, along with pending delivery details. She couldn’t believe it. Even though she hadn’t added too many jewelry pieces to her cart she knew the total had been about 75k. And he’d just purchased it all.

He handed the phone back to her as she gaped.

“What the fuck..” she muttered, shell-shocked.

He kissed her cheek.

She glanced up at him, “What did you do that for?”

“For you.”

“Satoru, you're up!” Geto called.

He placed a deft kiss on her lips before standing and jogging over to Geto, leaving her stunned in silence.

She squirmed, “Toru, please– I’m still sore.”

He loosened his grip, sighing as he cupped her tits. “This bikini looks too good kitten.”

She pushed his hands away, quickly covering her chest as she swam further into the pool. It was admittedly a very sexy bikini set, the first of its kind that she’d ever worn. She felt very naked.

She turned around, “This is why I don’t like wearing what you want. You just want me naked all the time.”

“I do.”

She splashed him with water, making him laugh.

He swam towards her suddenly, splashing her with thrice the amount of water. She yelled, quickly attempting to swim away only to get cornered.

“Okay, okay! That's enough you fool!”

He quickly popped up from the water, closing in on her, “Quitting already?”

She didn’t hesitate in hitting him with a fierce splash but he quickly dodged it. Suddenly she was chasing him around the pool, sending splash after splash after him. He cackled as he attempted to dodge the bombardment of water.

She kept missing him, only to jump to get some distance on him. She jumped atop his back, nearly making him topple into the water–only for his athlete instincts to kick in and easily make him balanced.

“Ara-” he laughed, turning his face aside as she used her spare arm to splash water in his face. Her other arm wound tightly around his shoulders.

He slipped his arms under her legs around his waist, hoisting her higher on his back. “Hold on tight!”

She didn’t have a second to register his words because he was already swimming. He was swimming so fast she nearly screamed. She clutched his back, feeling his back muscles move against her chest. She felt like she was on a jet boat.

Finally he stopped, holding her knees up once more as he straightened.

“How was that?” he questioned, a bright smile on his face.

At her silence he glanced behind himself, “Ara?”

She dropped her face to his back, “I… I’m dizzy.”

He used his arm under her leg to swiftly maneuver her body in front of himself. His arms slipped around her bum, keeping her legs around his waist.

He rubbed her back, tilting his head, “You okay?”

She blinked several times, “Yeah.” her voice revealed something a bit unsure.

He swam towards the poolside, slipping his hands into the dip of her waist before placing her atop the marble floor. Her legs still dipped in the water.

She ran a hand through her wet hair as she breathed, “I’m fine.” she mumbled.

His eyes were alert, “Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

A grin split across his lips.

She reached over to splash him with water again but he caught her wrist. She attempted to do the same with her other hand but he caught that one too.

“Ugh!” she grunted in frustration only for him to lean over and peck her lips.

“You’re so cute.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Don’t make me blush baby.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

His eyes widened, along with his grin, “Ah? Do that again.”

She sharply turned her face aside, “Shut up.”

He chuckled once more, finally releasing her wrists, “Ara..”

Just as she crossed her arms, his index and middle finger turned her chin his way, “I have something to ask you.”

“What now.”

He tilted his head, his bright eyes flickering up and down her face. She thought she saw his adam’s apple bob in his neck.

“So.. SATs are coming up.”

She raised a brow, “And?”

“And college applications are due soon so.. I wanna know your top choice.”

“Top choice?”

“Top choice for university.”

She eyed the faint blush on his cheeks, “Why?”

His hands rested atop the poolside as he drew closer, “I want us to go to college together.”

She tensed.

His intricate eyes scanned her face, unable to read her fixed expression.

“Kitten?” he asked.

She finally moved, her eyes darting up to his. “Are you sure?”

“What?” he asked, completely flabbergasted, “Of course I’m sure.”

He cupped her chin, “You think I can live without you?”

She turned her face a second before he could even think to kiss her.

His nose trailed her cheekbone, “You don’t want to?” he questioned.

She closed her eyes, “I do but.. can we not go far?”

His hand cupped her neck, tilting her face back up, “ ‘course kitten. Stanford then?”

A light laugh slipped out of her, “I know I can get in but can you?”

A grin spread across his lips, “You think you're better than me cuz you're valedictorian?”

“I know I’m better than you.”

His grin widened, “True, but have you checked the ranks?”

“I checked last week.”

“How about this week?”

“No but..” her eyes widened, “Are you saying you’re first again?”

He shrugged.

She shoved him, “Tell me!”

He laughed, loving every second of this, “Maybe.”

“Maybe?!” she barked, “Ugh, give it a week. Once my calc exam is in you’ll be back in your place. Watch.”

Suddenly his arms slipped around her waist and he was burying his face in her neck.

She pushed at his arms, “Toru—“

Suddenly she was pinned to the floor, his hands holding hers down as he bent over her. His tall frame between her legs.

He tilted his head, “Why do you want to stay near here?”

Her eyes lingered on the water droplets falling from his abs before meeting his gaze. Her face flushed.

“Cuz… just cause.”

“Tell me.”

She stared up at him, trying not to get swallowed up whole by the brightness of his blue eyes.

She closed her eyes, “Cuz I want to be near my Dad, okay?”

His jaw clenched as his eyes raked down her body, “You can go to any university in the world.. and that’s what you're gonna choose by?”

Her eyes fluttered open, her expression somewhat somber.

“He doesn’t care y’know.”

Her brows furrowed slightly but he continued anyway, “Does he really matter that much to you?”

“He’s the only family I have.” she answered curtly.

“So? He beat the shit outta you.”

Her expression twisted and she attempted to release herself from his hands pinning hers, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I don’t want you to make another decision based on someone who doesn’t care about you. I care about you. I want the best for you-”

She twisted underneath him, “Toru, let go of me—“

He bent lower over her, “Listen to me.”

She froze, her breath incredibly shaky.

“I am listening. You want to know my top choice? Anything in fucking California. That’s what I want, okay? If you don’t like it then go somewhere else.”

“Go somewhere else?” he repeated quietly.

She swallowed, unable to find any words.

“Without you?” he pressed.

Her heart raced in her chest, “N—no.”

“Hmm,” he hummed approvingly before running a hand down her side, “That’s what I thought.”

“Stanford?” Geto questioned on the other end of the line.

“Yeah Stanford.”

“Why?”

“Cuz,” he hadn’t really thought this through, “Stanford’s.. nice.”

Geto scoffed, “Nice? That’s it?”

“Yes?”

“You couldn’t decide what college you wanted to go for the past two years but suddenly you wake up and decide that Stanford is nice?”

Before he even had the chance to respond, Geto asked, “Does Ara have something to do with this?”

Gojo couldn’t help but chuckle, “Maybe~”

Geto sighed.

“Gojo!” she whined as he lifted her up from the couch. “Gojo, put me down!”

He smacked her ass over his shoulder, “Nah.”

“Gojo!” she yelled while attempting to kick her feet but his other arm quickly held her legs down.

He playfully bit her hip as he walked, “Don’t whine kitten.”

She attempted to twist herself away but it was impossible, “Satoru seriously— I want to finish the movie!”

“Then you shouldn’t have kissed me.”

“You kissed me.”

He merely shook his head, “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

Her small fists hit his back and he laughed.

Just as he opened their bedroom door, she raised her head. Her eyes landed on the maid down the hallway, staring right at her. A slight blush on her face.

Before Ara could even think of feeling embarrassed Gojo kicked the door closed behind them.

“Satoru?”

“Hm?” he glanced up from his phone. He was rather comfortable, lounging on one of the several patio chairs.

Ara rubbed the back of her neck as she approached him, “Um.. you remember how i’m supposed to go shopping with Mils today?”

He tossed his phone onto the empty seat beside him and straightened.

“The shopping spree you rudely refuse to let me join? Yes.”

She stood before him, “Baby I need some girl time.”

He pouted, “I can be a girl?”

She cupped his chin and shook it, “Just because you're as pretty as one doesn’t mean you can be one.”

His eyes brightened, “I’m pretty?”

She shoved his face away but he quickly faced her again—a devious grin on his lips.

His white brows wriggled, “Are you gonna talk about me?”

She squinted, “No, why would I talk about trash.”

His arms slipped around her, tugging her close as he rested his chin atop her bosom.

“Meanie~”

Suddenly she was flipped into his arms, fully laying on his lap. She gasped.

He nuzzled her hair before tilting his head to drop a kiss on her lips. Just as his lips connected with hers she gently cupped his chin, pacing him. He pecked her, his eyes fluttering open to peek at her face as she kissed him back. He pecked her again and grinned when he felt her breath hitch.

Just as he drew closer to deepen the kiss, her fingers slipped into his hair–pulling him back.

“Wait–toru, wait–” she fought to catch her breath, “I have to go.”

He whined, “Right now?”

She nodded, “Yeah, Ijichi’s waiting outside but I need your help.”

“What do you need?”

She hesitated a second before admitting, “I-um, I want to shop but I.. I don’t have any money.”

It was true. She’d left the spare cash she had at her Dads and even if she did have the debit card her Dad had given her she wouldn’t feel comfortable using it.

His eyes widened, “Oh!”

He reached into his pocket, fishing out his Bottega Veneta wallet. He took out a credit card and gave it to her.

“Keep it.”

She stared blankly as he put it in her hand.

“It’s yours.” he added further.

She felt her face heat up, “I can give it back after—“

“I just said it’s yours, kitten. Buy whatever you want.”

She continued to stare at him and he stared back—only to cackle a second later.

“You can’t take anything normally huh?” he squeezed her cheek, “It’s always somethin’ new. Never a-” suddenly his voice turned saccharine, “‘Thank you, Toru’ ‘You're the best boyfriend ever, Toru-“

She quickly stood up from his lap, “I’m leaving.”

“Nooo~” he whined as he latched onto her, keeping her in his lap. He buried his face into her nape, “You can’t go yet.”

“Stop it-“

“Two minutes, just two minutes.”

“Toru!”

She jolted up from the bed, breathless. Her mouth felt terribly dry and her hands.. her hands were shaking.

She stared at her trembling fingers before registering.. I had a nightmare.

It’d been a terrible one at that, so terrible she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. She could feel her scream stuck in her throat.

She blinked, trying to remember the details but the more she tried to think of it, the more it escaped her. She was grasping at straws but something within her felt an almost frantic pressure to remember. Something had happened, something bad-bad enough to feel real. She didn’t want to forget, she couldn’t—

Suddenly a hand slipped into the curve of her waist, “Ara?”

She glanced over to see Gojo propped on an arm behind her, his bright eyes nearly illuminating in the dark. His white hair tousled and disorderly from sleep.

She gently touched his face, her fingers pushing his soft silver-white hair back, “I’m okay.” she attempted to murmur only for her breathlessness to betray her.

His thin brows furrowed subtly, “Bad dream?”

She didn’t answer, merely moving to lay down underneath him, under the crook of his arm. His eyes followed her, never leaving her stoic face. They both knew it wasn’t the first time.

She avoided his gaze for a second, absentmindedly running her fingers over his collar bone before nodding.

He watched her flit about before lowering himself to press a gentle kiss on her forehead. Then another between her brows… on the bridge of her nose… the tip of her nose… then her lips.

Her lips quivered under his, making a heady rush hit his lower abdomen but he forced himself to think past it and be calm. He let his tongue sweep her mouth just once before breaking the kiss.

Her lips were swollen and parted. She was breathless all over again.

He searched her face, trying to find his focus but he didn’t need to when her hands suddenly slipped around his neck and they were kissing once more. It was sloppy, desperate and unexpectedly wanton in every degree.

Her nails dug into his scalp and kept him close. His hand found her tits, squeezing and groping needily. Fuck. He’d already had her tonight but hell he could never help himself when it came to her.

He meant to ask her about the nightmare, how they were coming a bit too often but– “Fuck,” he rasped out raggedly, breaking the kiss.

Her hand was wrapped around his cockhead, her thumb rubbing his tip before running up and down as much of his length she could reach. His hips bucked in response to her touch.

She never touched him there first, especially unprompted. If he ever wanted her to touch his cock he’d have to cup her tiny hand in his and guide her there.

She squeezed his cockhead, making him gasp before bucking into her harder. Her small palm ran along the underside of his length, feeling all his veins and heat. He could feel his cock throb in her hands as she rubbed him.

His forehead pressed into hers as he groaned. He was fully erect now and she knew it too. His cock had grown in size and felt incredibly hot and solid in her fingers. His pre-cum dribbled out the tip, making her palm sticky as her pace quickened.

He yanked the blankets off and flipped himself over her, eyes alert. He took in her frame and his cock twitched at the sight.

She was naked, hair splayed out over the pillow and legs loose around his waist. Hickeys strewn all over her skin, the fresher ones around her tits turning a deeper color.

He leaned lower, aligning his fully stiff cock at her entrance. Just touching her with the tip made his body gripe with lust.

He’d meant to tease her, maybe slide his cock through her folds a little, let his tip tease her clit but the second his cock touched her wetness his thoughts were set aflame. His jaw locked and he drove his cock straight into her pussy in one forceful stroke.

She cried out, her tits jumping as she jolted sensitively. Her hips could only tremble as her cunt squeezed around him. It always hurt when he fit himself inside all at once—but right now it hurt so good. She felt full in a way that she couldn’t think.

He was breathing heavily above her, his hand forming a fist at the crown of her head as he began to move his cock with no mercy. He was determined to show her what it meant to finish what she started.

“Satoru!” she cried while digging her nails into his shoulders.

He thrusted into her, hard and fast. As if they didn’t have any spare time to waste. He was hungry and she could feel it in each buck of his hips.

“Dont worry, baby.” he murmured huskily into her ear as she whined, “I got you.”

He pounded into her, burying his cock impossibly deeper each time. He knew it was a lot for her but he couldn’t help himself. He told himself she wouldn’t either—if she knew how good she felt.

Her insides clutched his cock like he was her lifeline. Fuck, if he wasn’t already, he should be. She was his lifeline as it was.

“ah—ah-aHh! Satoru—Satoru!!” 

Fuck. He couldn’t stop. He kissed her, hard. She was too distracted to kiss him back. He felt her wet tears against his cheek and it made his thrusts get sloppy with heat.

He was close. So close. A few more thrusts—

Suddenly her fingers curled in his hair, her body arching underneath him as her insides gushed with fluid. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her head moving side to side desperately as she begged, “S-satoru—please!”

He exploded, cumming buckets and buckets and buckets into her heat. It didn’t matter that he’d already came inside her earlier in the night, something about her made him cum loads each time. And this time was no different.

He panted as he fell into the crook of her neck. He felt her body tremble oh so delicately underneath his.

He was still for a beat before kissing the skin underneath her ear and lowering his hand to where they were still joined. His thumb found her clit, making her jolt sensitively.

A small grin slid onto the end of his lip when he heard her slight, broken breath turn bated as he rubbed her tiny, slick bud.

“Toru,” she rasped out, unable to successfully twist away due to being pinned under him, “T-toru, what are you doing?”

The gentle pressure of his thumb against her clit picked up, making her shiver.

“What you did to me.” he murmured. “Waking you up.”

“I’m—I’m already awake.” she stuttered out, his thumb was making circles over her clit now.

“Hmm,” he hummed, “You didn’t cum.”

“I-I did.”

He used his thumb and forefinger to lightly squeeze her clit, making her lose all her breath.

“No you didn’t.”

“I did!” she gasped out desperately.

She shoved at his shoulders just as he began to move inside her, his cock slowly thrusting into the mess they’d made inside her. The wet sound echoing promiscuously in the room.

“Then prove it.” he whispered into her neck before licking underneath her jaw, along her several hickies as if sealing them in.

He straightened above her, looking down to see her eyes squinted shut and her lips twisted in unwanted desire. His cock throbbed as he thrusted into her harder.

“Prove it to me and do it again.”

“Millie, where the hell are we?” she asked.

Millie laughed, her tone as lighthearted as ever, “Don’t worry about it, just come.”

Millie took her hand and pulled her out of the car. Before them was one of the most extravagant hotels Ara had ever seen. It was absolutely insane.

She stared at the palm trees surrounded pool in shock. It had to be the biggest pool she’d ever seen in her life. The lights decorating the pathway to hotel doors were lit with real fire as Millie dragged her to the entrance.

Their heels clacked along the marble ground as they walked up to the main doors. They’d spent the entire day together–pointlessly glamming themselves up to the most excessive degree. From massages, to manicures, pedicures, eyebrow threading, hair, makeup, shopping, shopping and more shopping. From clothes, jewelry, shoes, accessories–anything that they liked they picked up. Gojo had said she could use her card on anything she wanted and Millie was more than happy to run it up–she nearly regretted telling Millie that.

But-at the same time-if she couldn’t spend with her best friend then what the hell was the point? Even if they’d blown through more money than she’d ever spent in the last decade in one day, it was admittedly a blast. It felt like something out of a dream.

The only thing she regretted was smoking a little weed in the car because now her head felt fuzzy–very fuzzy.

Ara couldn’t help but notice the security guards lining the walls the second they entered the lobby. Paranoia immediately seeped into her veins.

She turned and sharply faced Millie-only to become momentarily silenced. Millie looked stunning, her hair was pinned in a sexy, undone but not, 90s inspired updo that suited her incredibly well. Her mini-dress and heels matched perfectly and something about her dark brown smokey eye makeup brought out her eyes in the most appealing way. Damn, her best friend was hot.

Millie blinked, “What?”

Ara shook her head-pulling herself out of her reverie, “You’re hot.”

Millie smirked, squeezing her hand, “You’re hotter.”

Ara rolled her eyes before remembering her original task, “Listen,” she tugged her hand, “What are we doing here? We better not be doing something stupid. There’s a shit ton of security here.” she whispered.

Millie giggled, “Why do you always think the worst of me? We’re not sneaking in anywhere, don’t worry.”

“Then what are we doing here?”

Millie shook her head, “Just trust m-”

Ara glared, “What is this? Seriously?”

Millie let go of her hand and motioned for her to stay where she was, “Just hold on a sec.”

Ara stared at Millie in complete aggravation as she watched the girl walk up to the front desk. They were supposed to go to Millie’s place to drop off her shopping bags and then to Gojo’s place to drop off her own stuff. They then planned to just hang out and take pics there–not whatever this was.

She glanced up at the glass ceiling, reveling in the sight of the gorgeous starlit night sky before realizing it was rather late. Gojo was bound to be worried. Fuck.

She flipped open her clutch to find her phone–only to see it wasn’t inside. Oh shit.

Her heart rate skyrocketed–suddenly she felt a hand on her elbow and glanced up to see Millie with two security guards behind her.

Millie smiled, “C’mon lets go.”

Ara stared at the three of them in confusion, unable to speak for a moment. “..Millie..?”

“Just c’mon.” Millie slid her hand around her elbow and began to walk towards the elevator. The security guards followed.

“Wait,” Ara pulled her arm out of hers, “I can’t find my phone. I think I left it in the car. I need to call Ijichi–”

“Just don’t worry about it.” Millie hassled her into the elevator–nearly making Ara trip over her heels.

“What the fuck, Millie?” Ara asked harshly. She swiveled around to notice the security guards follow them inside the elevator and press a button to a floor she couldn’t see due to the guards’ huge stature blocking the way.

“I’m sorry, I just need you to be patient for a sec.”

Ara immediately refocused her attention to her, “Patient? What the fuck is going on? Do you even know where we are going?”

Millie pursed her lips and shrugged.

Ara raised a brow, “Are you good? I need my phone. I need to call Ijichi–or Gojo.”

Millie smacked her teeth, “Gojo? Are you still thinking about him right now? Just quit already–you're like a lovesick girlfriend.”

Ara glared, “What the hell? You know he’s the one on my ass all the time. He’s probably texted you already, asking about me.”

“Doesn’t he have your location?”

“Yeah but if I don’t text him often he gets pissy. You know this.”

Millie giggled, “Is he the girl in the relationship?”

Ara couldn’t help but chuckle, “You still want to date him?”

“Yes, especially if he gives me that credit card.”

Ara didn’t get the chance to respond because suddenly the elevator doors opened to reveal a lavishly adorned rooftop–everything pastel purple and white themed. Her favorite colors..

Suddenly the sound of confetti cannons went off, making her jump.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!”

Ara was pushed out the elevator by Millie to see several of her classmates waiting for her, hooting and hollering like animals. Pastel purple confetti everywhere. Shoko crushed her in a hug first.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” Shoko pulled back, beaming-it wasn’t hard to tell from the flush on her cheeks that she’d already started drinking.

Shoko’s eyes widened, before pinching her cheek, “You look soo good, girl. Damn.”

Ara blushed slightly, “Thank you.”

“No thank you,” Shoko placed a hand on her shoulder, “Seriously. You’re probably…” She paused, as if trying to find the right words, “one of the coolest people I’ve ever met.” she said with a firm nod.

Ara paused, “Really?”

“Yeah, you’re.. you. And you don’t let anyone else around you make you otherwise, I like that. You don’t let Gojo get his way all the time either, which is exactly what he needs. He needs to hear some no’s in his life. And get humbled. Lots of humbling.”

Shoko shook her head, smiling to herself as she continued, “It’s honestly refreshing to hear him complain about you.”

“He complains about me?”

Shoko laughed, “Little things like you refusing to go to an escape room with him or you forcing him to wear a seat belt ever since he nearly totaled that car.”

Ara refrained from rolling her eyes, she’d only seen a video of the 'almost' incident but he’d been two seconds away from smashing the car front first into a bridge and that was all she needed to witness to shut it down. She knew it’d be impossible to stop his chronic speeding but a seatbelt was the least she could do. It hadn’t even been his car either, it was Geto’s.

Shoko continued with a humorous smile, “He gets so upset when you don’t use his gifts.”

Ara’s eyes widened indignantly, “He gives me too many.”

“It’s honestly hilarious,” she chuckled before shrugging, “It’s stupid but like, lots of the girls he’s been with were honestly.. pushovers and it was highkey nauseating. You know how to handle him though.”

Ara opened her mouth slightly, intending to respond but.. 

Is that how it looks like? Stoic, studious Ara keeping fuckboy billionaire Gojo in line? She supposed only Millie knew of his possessiveness but then.. maybe to others it really did look like he was in line. He rarely did things without her, in fact he didn’t even party without her–out of his own accord. He listened to her every whim and desire and was almost desperate to do so—outside of bed.

Shoko patted her cheek, drawing her out of her thoughts, “I just hope he doesn’t do something stupid and lose you.”

She stared at Shoko’s sincere expression for a moment, feeling her heart tighten suddenly. She didn’t have much time to dwell on it though because the second Shoko let go of her shoulder, she went stumbling backwards.

Before Ara could even outstretch her hands Nanami appeared and caught Shoko a second before she truly toppled over. His arms slipped around her waist and she melted into him. Shoko mumbled something incoherent in his neck and a warm smile immediately bloomed on his face.

He glanced towards Ara, his kind smile widening, “She’s fine, I promise.”

She watched his hand caress Shoko’s short hair as he continued, “Happy birthday. I hope you like our gift. Ieiri went through a lot to make sure you liked it.”

Shoko placed her index finger on his lips, still keeping her face buried in his shoulder as she did this, “Don’t tell her what it is.”

“I didn’t!” he exclaimed.

Ara laughed only to suddenly be pulled into another hug. Then another and another. All of Shoko’s friends. Arden. Mina. Leah, they all wished her and updated her on random tea about their classmates that she could’ve lived without hearing but she didn’t mind. When the conversation turned to her outfit they showered her with such compliments she couldn’t help but feel bubbly inside–until Arden spoke.

“Listen, I don’t know about you guys but the second she stepped out that elevator my g-string got soaked.”

A short silence ensued and she added, “Just saying.”

Mina spoke, “Girl what.”

“It’s the bi in me.”

Leah laughed as Mina playfully shoved Arden. Ara shook her head, giggling under her breath as she turned around–only to run into Toji and Haibara.

Haibara beamed the second he saw her, “Birthday girl!!!!”

He outstretched his arms but quickly looked past her, seeming to notice something-or someone-and pretended to run his hand through his hair. Ara was too in her own head to notice. She hadn’t exactly been mentally prepared to see so many people.

Regardless, Haibara’s smile offered her a semblance of reassurance. He had that sort of aura-of a human teddy bear.

She returned his smile, “That’s me~”

He suddenly whipped out his phone, “Your reaction was so funny, look look. You really looked around trying to find out who’s birthday it was.”

Ara watched the video on his phone to see he was right. When everyone shouted happy birthday, she’d broken her neck to look everywhere and behind herself like a fool.

She moved his arm away to get the video out of her sight before she could over-analyze herself further. She hated being photographed, videoed or any of the like.

“That’s cuz I forgot it was my birthday.”

“You really forgot?” he asked.

“Yeah.” she shrugged. Her family never did anything on the day so-aside from a happy birthday text from Millie-it was just a regular day to her.

“Well,” Toji’s deep voice rumbled, “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded, his dark hair swaying subtly as he did so. It should be illegal for his narrow green eyes to look as seductive as they did while merely maintaining eye contact.

“You look pretty.” he complimented. The words were simple, truly straightforward and yet his sensual voice made it feel like something more. No wonder women dropped like flies around his feet.

She raised her chin imperceptibly, “Thanks Toji.”

Out of all of Gojo’s friends, he was the one she least got along with. Maybe because they were both somewhat the quiet type but it was also because she wasn’t a fool.

She knew-given the chance-he’d rip her clothes off without a second's delay if she asked. He wouldn’t even care if Gojo came after him. He was just that sort of person. But even he with all his lingering stares and subtle seductive tactics wasn’t aware of Gojo’s limits—or moreso, the lack thereof.

She was forced to break their little staring contest when a hand suddenly grabbed her elbow and twirled her around. She was met with Millie’s sly grin and Geto standing a slight bit behind her. He greeted her with a small smile.

“Having fun?” Millie teased.

Ara tilted her head, “Did you set all this up?”

“I’m rich but not that rich,” she jutted her chin somewhere to her right, “That’s all him right there.”

Ara glanced over to see Gojo leaning against a railing, somewhat excluded from the others for a change. He looked like something straight out of a romance movie. His silky white hair had been pushed back, minus for the few unruly strands that hung over his forehead. He’d grown his hair out a bit-at her request-but she liked the way it looked more weighted at his nape, like a little mane.

He wore a simple black dress-shirt, untucked from his matching pants. The outfit was simple and yet the subtle contours of his tautly muscular frame made it all the more appealing. He was unbuttoning the top few buttons at his collar when he caught her gaze. The corner of his glossy lips immediately lifting upwards.

Her heart skipped a beat.

“He’s waiting for youuu.” Millie sang into her ear.

Ara was suddenly forced forward by Millie’s not-so-subtle push.

She walked towards him, feeling her breath grow shallow with each step. His eyes remained transfixed on her. She didn’t miss the way his gaze dropped to take her in from head to toe. When his eyes found hers again, a pale pink hue decorated his cheeks.

He straightened off the railing, “Hi kitten.”

She stopped right before him. A tiny smile finding its way to her lips, “Hey.”

He brought his arm around from behind himself to reveal a bouquet of white hibiscus flowers. Her favorite flower. She didn’t meet his eyes as he handed it to her.

“Satoru..”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he rushed out, “please.”

She glanced up at him.

“I know you don’t like people. That’s why I kept it small. I just.. had to do something. I had to. Especially after you told me you never did anything for your birthday before-I didn’t like it. You deserve to be celebrated-”

A small laugh left her lips, “I deserve to be celebrated?”

“Yes.” he replied indignantly.

She shook her head, “You worry about the oddest things.”

He blinked slowly, “..you hate this.”

“I would’ve been happy even if it was just us, y’know.” she replied gently.

His eyes widened for a moment before he hung his head, “I’m sorry.”

She set the flowers down on a nearby table before touching his arm, “I didn’t say I wasn’t happy now though.”

He lifted his head slightly, a hint of that boyish spark returning to his eyes. He searched her face, “..really?”

She nodded, “This is all.. really nice actually. No one’s ever surprised me before.”

The corner of his lip lifted tantalizingly, “You like it?”

She slipped her arms around his shoulders, “Only this once.”

His devilishly handsome smile returned in full force before he crushed her to himself. His strong arms tightening around her waist to lift her up as he kissed her. Her hands wound themselves in his hair as they kissed. She felt his heartbeat through his shirt and couldn’t help but smile against his lips. He’d been nervous and she couldn’t help but find it undeniably cute.

He lowered her to her feet but didn’t let her go, showering her face with kisses as she laughed.

She gently shoved his firm shoulders, “Toru, stop.”

He kissed her temple, still keeping her close as he whined, “I can’ttttt.”

One of his hands around her waist slid low to her ass, giving it a squeeze.

She glared up at him, “Satoru.”

He grinned.

“Alright lovebirds,” Millie’s familiar voice rang out from their left, drawing them out of their little bubble. “Now that you’re done sucking each other’s faces off, I need to take a picture with the birthday girl.”

She took Ara’s hand and walked her over to a lengthy, elaborate flower wall made solely of white hibiscus flowers. Ara gaped.

Millie shoved her phone in Gojo’s chest only for him to catch her wrist, “Milsss, don’t you think her boyfriend should get a pic with her first?”

“I’m her best friend.”

“So.”

“So?” Millie nearly yelled.

“I set this whole place up.”

“You mean the people you hired set this place up.”

“Same difference.”

“It’s most definitely not. Do you know what it took to get her here? She nearly bit my head off in the elevator.”

“Did she?” Ara could hear the grin in his voice.

“Yeah! It was hard as hell to sneak her phone from her too cuz you kept texting her..”

As they bickered, Ara couldn’t help but take a moment to look around. Some of her classmates were already taking pictures in front of the flower wall while others were at the drink table. Pouring themselves drink after drink as they meandered about. Laughter and music filling the air. And the view… the rooftop view was to die for. It was something she never could’ve imagined in a million lifetimes.

It was in moments like these where she’d wonder.. 

How did I get here?

Ara pulled the blanket up to Millie’s shoulders. She was passed out, like most of her classmates once they brought the party inside the penthouse suite of the hotel. It was nearly 5 am so she couldn’t blame them.

“Psst.”

Ara glanced over to see Gojo walking her way, a drink in hand. She knew he didn’t drink so..

“If that drink is for me then you can put it away.”

He grinned, “Nah it’s water.”

“Oh,” she took it from him and then took a sip, only to spit it out, “That’s vodka!”

“Eheheh,” She shoved him as he sat down on the couch beside her. He motioned towards Millie, “She’s out?”

Ara nodded, “She drank enough for everyone combined.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

Ara squinted, “You don’t even drink.”

“Shhh,” he slipped his hand into hers, “Can I steal you now?”

“For what?”

“I have to show you something.”

She was silent for a moment, “It’s too early for a prank.”

He grinned brightly, “It’s not a prank. I promise.”

a/n: continued in chapter 5 [ part III ]

[mushroommanstan]

How about this: Y/N likes to do yoga poses/stretches in the nude, Tomura wants to get in on that after observing *coughpervingcough* in her closet for so many days

When it first happened, it was an accident.

He was just snooping around your room for the discarded underwear he’d find all over the place when the door suddenly opened and the lights flicked on.

Panicking, he was fortunately right next to your closet, so he just hopped in. Maybe quietly searching for some of your bras in the mean time.

Anyways, you were always an unpredictable person, but he never could have believed that the first thing you did when entering into your room was take your clothes off.

The more you kept undressing, the harder it was to control himself. When you took your bra off it made your tits jiggle in a way that almost had him cumming in his pants, but he stopped himself immediately. No way is he going to blow his load before you even take your pants off.

When you do, all that’s left is your pretty pink panties, and from the slits in the closet door he can clearly see how you’ve soaked through them. He can only dream it was him making you feel that way and it was

You finally pulled your panties off, revealing the last of your perfect skin to him. He gripped his cock harder, strokes going faster and faster as your legs spread farther and farther as you performed the splits for him.

As he looked over your delicate form, your smooth body intentionally straining as you continued stretching, he couldn’t help but feel ashamed. Like he was defiling a work of art. Not that that stopped him, no, instead he pinched and pulled at his balls as punishment, occasionally squeaking from the delicious pain. As you went on, he could feel himself getting close. It had been a long, long time since he’s felt like this, oh god it was going to feel so good! Just a little more and-

You maneuvering into the downward dog position, ass perfectly on display was enough for him to finish. He came so hard his legs quaked, his eyes rolled back and his mouth hung open in a silent scream. He could see white spots from how hard he came, but they didn’t fade, they just got bigger and bigger until-

A loud thunk made you jump, it sounding like it was coming from your closet. You readied yourself as you pulled back the closet doors, figuring it was a raccoon or something, and color you surprised when you saw your passed out boss, dick still out and cum everywhere. Like, this guy jerks off like maybe once every 2 months, so imagine how backed up he was. All over your clothes.

You sighed, looks like you’ll have to redo your laundry. Other than that though, you didn’t really care. If anything, you were flattered. Maybe a little horny. I mean, all those nights of masturbating to him only to find him masturbating to you.

You smiled, picking up your discarded panties and stuffing them in his gaping mouth for when he woke up. Other than that, you just closed said doors and took a shower, business as usual.

Since then, it had become routine. Every Tuesday and Thursday at 7:45, he would scramble into your closet for the show to start. Of course you never told him you knew, that would take the fun out of it. For now, you’d wait for him to muster up the courage and plunge into your wet heat as you “unknowingly” presented it to him. Maybe you “accidentally” leave one of your vibrators in your closet for him to play with, the melodic buzz filling the room and making a shiver go down your spine as you touch yourself right in front of him.

For now, the mental image of him and the shameless noises of him going to town on all your clothes was enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Again, didn’t quite do what you asked, hope that’s ok. I stg I had to write this like twice because Tumblr wouldn’t save. Smh. Anyways, hope you liked it.

[sungbeam]

𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐗! — six

vi. oh, yn ... (smh)

0.6k written + social media

in which jisung takes another L (?), or in which the line between love like and hate is thin indeed

park jisung x fem!reader ; crack/humor, angst if u SQUINT REALLY HARD, kinda awkward tbh

The showcase venue was packed to the brim with sweaty bodies all buzzing with the same, adrenaline-induced energy. Every month, the campus performing arts center hosted a dance showcase open to anyone and everyone. There would be impromptu performances, usually done freestyle, right in the middle of the lobby, while the actual program would be performed on the actual stage. Your brother Haechan had just finished his set out in the lobby when you had decided to applaud for him and then duck backstage. You were sure your other brothers were here as well, just in different places. 

Jisung had texted you which room he was practicing in—it was one of the larger dressing rooms in the back that had been emptied for performers to stretch, warm-up, and practice. You located the appropriate number, then held your breath as you knocked on the door. 

The music on the inside of the door came to an abrupt halt, and suddenly, you were face to face with Park Jisung in the flesh. 

Well, glowing flesh, if that even made sense. Sweat gave his skin an ethereal sheen to it, and the light from inside the room cast a glow upon his ice-white hair. The tank top he wore now hugged his toned dancer figure, and his chest contracted as he breathed heavily. 

He blinked, features schooled into an expression to wide-eyed surprise. "Yn… hey."

You cleared your throat and your eyes drifted away—just anywhere but him. "Sorry. I must have come at a bad time—"

"No, it's all good," he promised. His fingers drummed against the doorjamb, one arm still attached to the door. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek. "Right, right," he muttered when he suddenly remembered your true purpose for being here. 

Jisung leaned to the side behind the door and retrieved your beloved jade butterfly claw clip. He set the delicate accessory into the palms of your hands. "Here you go."

You immediately clipped it to your belt loop. "Thanks, Jisung."

"Sure," he nodded. 

A silence settled between the two of you. Should you say something else? What else was there left to say anyway; you never had anything to say to him, but here you were… speechless for the wrong reasons. 

"Good luck out there," you blurted. You pursed your lips into a thin smile that you hoped looked genuine enough. God, Ten's pettiness was really shining through, huh. 

Another sharp nod of his head. "Oh, uh, thanks." He cupped the back of his neck, and God forbid, he actually looked sheepish. "Not that I need it, of course, but—"

Oh, dear god. You shouldn't have even said anything. 

You were halfway through an eye roll when he stammered with a wince. "Shit. Sorry, that just came out. I mean, thank you. Really, Yn."

He raked a hand through his hair. "Would you even consider staying to watch? I know you said you had something after this, but it would mean a lot…" He winced again. "Yeah, whatever. Stay if you'd like."

For some reason, guilt pierced through your heart like an arrow. He genuinely sounded… sad that you wouldn't stay for the performance. And it wasn't like you weren't… curious to watch how he did. No matter how arrogant he could be, he was a marvel to watch on the dance floor. 

You gulped. "I'll think about it. See you around, Jisung."

He nodded, licking his lips, like accepting that defeat. "Sure. Cool. See ya, Yn."

The door closed just as you turned on your heel to make your way back out to the lobby. But just as you were about to cross the threshold out into the cool night, you cursed under your breath and made a break for the auditorium. Your curiosity had won you over—at least, that was what you were saying to justify yourself. 

a/n: 🤡 ← both yn and jisung rn tbh

« prev · m.list · next »

permanent taglist: @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @johlee @justanotherkpopstanlol @frickyratz @liamsholygrail @w3bqrl @got-sum-badhabits @ana-is-losing-her-mind @smolpeyy @hibernatinghamster @babyksworld @otchae @bigballsz @luv4vernon @shakalakaboomboo @thesunsfullmoon @polarisjisung @dior-15 @neowritingsnet

taglist: @kae-t-eee @kookiedesi @yeppeudau @spiderrenjunfics @dreamenvi @neo-teenkidz @l33j3n8

[mistydeyes]

Hallooo :DD I wonder if your pairings are still open so could I gracefully have a COD pairing? Ty<33

Pronouns: She / They

Appearance: Medium black hair with dark brown eyes(almost looks like black—) a thin like hourglass body shape. 5'5(HELP...) Mostly wearing turtlenecks, hoodies, n' oversized stuff.

Personality: I am an introvert and sometimes panics when ever I talk to someone I don't know. I keep myself reserved and dislike going out as much. When you get to know me better I lean onto the extroverted side and likes showing you stuff I made. A very moody person at times and my friends, based on what they say, I am a chaotic yet mother like friend. I am very easy to talk to and easygoing, I overthink a lot which usually leads to panic attacks. My friend say I laugh at the wrong time and I am not so proud of that—I am also easily distracted and place my focus on something I like rather than something I dislike. I could be manipulative at times as well as having trust issues because of past trauma :')). I sometimes have a flirting demeanor and tons of playful flirting to my best/friends and sometimes I come off as secretive based on my friends words. I prefer to care for my friends other than myself, once again trauma, and I seem to be a trustworthy friend. I have a goldfish memory which shocks me hoe much I know myself despite forgetting everything from the apat 3 hours. Also I'm very artistic! But I still suck at it smh 😔

Hobbies, Interests, work(?):

Drawing, Listening to music, Singing, and dancing! My interests are probably painting, collecting random stuff I found, playing the piano, and learning new languages! (I wanna be bilingual) I favor dogs a lot and probably adopt every dog i see which is a problem cause I can't handle so much 😭 I am currently studying in psych! Becoming an actual therapist because my friends need help, so do I.

John Price

How you met: Civilian You weren't sure what to tell people when they asked how you and John met. Technically, you didn't meet face to face until about three months after you stayed talking. You were connected through a friend of a friend due to your hobby of painting and him wanting to have a new landscape piece of artwork for his flat.

When you first heard of the request, you thought it would be simple commission. However when you talked to John and he revealed his laundry list of details, you knew this would not be something you could complete overnight. He wanted a specific landscape of a lake with trees and rolling mountains but also asked for details such as a man fishing in a boat and wildlife poking through the trees. If that wasn't bad enough, he also wanted it to be gigantic, a piece that he could display in the main foyer. If he wasn't so kind with your timeline and also the payment wasn't lucrative, you would have referred him to someone else. But unfortunately, you found yourself continuously buying paints and moving furniture around to fit the gigantic canvas in your flat. After exactly three months, you sent John a picture and agreed he would pick it up the following week. The day came and you heard your doorbell ring. You excitedly ran down the stairs to see your client in person. "John, so nice to finally meet you," you greeted as he shook your hand. "Can't thank you enough," he continued with a smile, "it was exactly how I remembered it." "Oh so this wasn't just something you found inspiration for online?" you questioned as you led him to the wrapped and packaged painting. "No, it was actually something I remembered when my Grandad used to take me fishing as a young lad," he said as you helped him to carry the large item to his car. "Well, I was happy to make that a reality for you," you replied and you both shared a tender moment. When you finally managed to get it secure on the bed of a truck, John asked if he could treat you to a meal. Maybe it was because you wanted to learn more about his past, but you readily agreed and the rest is history.

A peek into your relationship: "Y/N, we can't," John said as he tried to lead you away from the window. "But sweetheart, look at their eyes," you pleaded as you leaned down and held a hand to the window. The absolute sweetest English terrier was looking back at you and excitedly wagging his tail. John knew he was doomed as you looked at him and practically pleaded just to stop in the shop. "It's just to say hi," you promised as you entered but that was a complete lie as you fell in love with the excited puppy running around you and almost jumping into your arms. John tried to supply you all the reasons why you couldn't adopt a dog. "You don't time!" "Yes I do, I'm done with uni and plus I specialize in virtual therapy." "What if you forget to feed him?" "John, I have a goldfish memory but I would like to think I would remember to feed a pet that's right in front of me." "It doesn't make for a good guard dog" "Okay fair, but thats why I have you." No matter what he said, you always had an answer. Plus, your fiancé could deny that he loved the small pup as it pawed at his leg. With a sigh, he said you could adopt him and you peppered him with thousands of kisses. While John had to now buy all the amenities for a new pet, it was a noble sacrifice to see you so happy.

[educatedsimps]

Hewo!! Can you write a short fic for the hospital au where the reader sees Kuroo being flirted with and becomes possessive, which leads to her accidentally revealing her feelings for him??

request - hands off my boyfriend!

physiotherapist!Kuroo x neurologist!reader

includes: fluff, (a sad attempt at) crack/humour, slight possessiveness, accidental confession

wc: 1.4k (omg someone stop me)

a/n: hey there!! omg this req is so cuteee, ofc we'll write something for you <3 this fic takes place in AU7, the hospital AU. hope it's okay and that it lives up to what you requested hehe, enjoy!

You were accustomed to the usual bustling of the hospital, from babies crying to frantic doctors and beeping monitors, but you were definitely not accustomed to the sight of your coworker speaking with your crush- I mean, colleague - Kuroo Tetsuro.

Maybe it wouldn't have bothered you so much if they weren't standing. that. close. to each other.

No, y/n. You're not together. You have no right to get jealous.

Your thoughts were interrupted by your senior handing you some documents and records of one of your patients, and giving you some instructions on what to do with them. You took note of them and nodded as she walked off to tend to other wards.

Not two seconds later, your gaze returned to the pair who stood at the end of the hallway leading to the emergency staircases.

This particular wing of the hospital wasn't usually too busy, especially during lunch time, so it was normal to see fellow hospital workers interacting with one another on their way to lunch.

But it was definitely not normal for two people to stand that close to each other when having a normal conversation.

Kuroo Tetsuro was a physiotherapist who worked at the same hospital as you did. You had been working with him for the past six months as you two were in charge of the same patient, a little girl called Hana. He was her physiotherapist and you, her neurologist. She had undergone a neurosurgery that had left her lower body weakened and semi-paralysed, hence putting her in need of physiotherapy. You and Kuroo have been really proud of her progress thus far, and would often check up on her together, even keeping her company during breaks.

You and Kuroo had clicked instantly, becoming close friends despite the working environment. You had started texting each other during breaks and such, sometimes calling, too. Once in a while, he’d even give you rides home from the hospital. Unfortunately, due to both of your busy schedules, you never got the chance to hang out apart from the occasional meal at the hospital cafeteria.

That didn't stop you from garnering some sort of feelings for him, though.

Of course it didn't, you thought bitterly.

It wasn't that you didn't like liking him. You just refused to admit that you had a big fat crush on him. Periodt. (smh, y/n)

Honestly, who wouldn't have a crush on him? he was funny, bright, easy to get along with, caring, and, not to mention, a heck of a good view. (like damn, sis)

Kuroo's back was against the far wall as the shorter girl basically pressed herself against him, with only centimeters of space between their bodies. their tip of their shoes were already touching, but you noticed Kuroo subtly moving his away from hers.

It was quite comical, really. Seeing a 6'2 man blushing to the tips of his ears while shuffling uncomfortably in front of a much younger, much smaller sized woman. Her smile was so wide it could have split her tiny face in half, her voice raised a little higher than normal as she spoke to him.

You rolled your eyes.

Of course, she'd fall him. He's Kuroo Tetsuro, one of the hottest richest most successful most eligible bachelors (y/n, stop it) best physiotherapists around.

You realised that you had been staring at the scene for a bit too long, but just as you were about to turn away, his eyes met yours.

They seemed to brighten and he stood a little taller when he saw you. His eyes momentarily flickered to the nurse in front of him, who was still batting her thick lashes at him, babbling something about her favourite snack.

He looked back to you and mouthed a "HELP. ME." all while plastering a fake smile on his face.

You blinked, looking around to make sure there was no one else he could have been signalling to.

You turned back to see him scratching the back of his neck, looking even more unsettled as the nurse in front of him pressed her face impossibly closer to his.

What kind of friend would you be if you didn't at least try to save him from a creepy-touchy-feely nurse going all up in his face just to get his attention?

Then you saw her hand reach up towards his face.

It was as if it were in slow motion - his wide eyes looking up at you as the distance between his face and her hand slowly decreased.

The next thing you knew, her wrist was grasped tightly in your palm as you snarled, "hands off my boyfriend."

She stared at you for a good two seconds. You stared back.

Her eyes grew as wide as saucers as she glanced between you and Kuroo, wriggling out of your hold and sputtering out an apology before scrambling away with pink cheeks.

You watched her disappear round the corner, till her blue scrubs no longer in sight. You smirked to yourself.

"Boyfriend, eh?" came a smug voice.

Shit.

Now it was your turn to turn pink.

Oh no. This was not happening.

“Uh- I mean, you know I was trying to-,”

“Yeah- Yeah, of course. ‘Course I’m not your boyfriend…”

Y/n, what were you thinking? Now it’s gonna be embarrassing for you-

“Do you have a boyfriend, though?” Kuroo asked, eyes darting everywhere, looking at anything but you.

You should’ve gotten backlash with how fast your head snapped up at his question.

“N-no- nO, no of course not, pFFT- why would I- nahhhhhhhhhh…” you reached up to rub the back of your neck.

Wow. Smooth, y/n. Real smooth.

“Oh. So you wouldn’t mind if I was your boyfriend?” he asked slowly, scanning your face for any sort of reaction.

At this point you felt like you had shut down entirely.

He was standing so close you could smell his heavenly scent cologne. He had bent down so much so that you could feel his warm breath fan your cheeks, in contrast to the normally cold hospital air.

You shuddered.

Your heart was beating erratically in your chest, you could hear your pulse ringing in your ears and your hands were turning clammy. You almost felt a bead of sweat roll down your back.

As soon as he leaned closer, though, he stood back straight again, stripping you of any warmth from before.

“Uh, I- I gotta go for lunch, so I’ll uh… I’ll see ya around, I guess-,”

“No,” you blurted.

He blinked at you.

“I mean… No, I wouldn’t mind you being my boyfriend,” You mumbled, voice growing smaller as you spoke.

He blinked again.

Was this really happening?

You felt a warmth blossom in your chest as you watched him reach for your hand, engulfing it in his bigger one.

“I wouldn’t mind being your boyfriend, either,” he chuckled lightly, winking at you when your eyes met. You didn’t miss the red that tinted the tip of his ears.

How cute, you thought.

Giggling, you threw yourself at him. He hugged you back, holding you against his man boobies tiddies pecs chest (phew, there we go) as he rested his chin on the crown of your head. (AAAA now i want a Kuroo hug too 😭)

“Dude, finally. The flirting and the sexual tension was starting to get exhausting, you know,” you heard a gruff voice from behind you.

You pulled away from Kuroo to see another good looking man. Kuroo punched him lightly on the shoulder. The man’s name tag read “Iwaizumi Hajime, Physiotherapist”.

Ohhhh it’s the hot physio guy your friend had been telling you about for the past month or so.

“Thanks, Iwa. I’m looking forward to saying the same thing to you soon,” Kuroo smirked.

Iwaizumi chuckled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah, I doubt it,”

He congratulated you before turning back to Kuroo.

“You got a good one, bro. Don’t forget that. I’ll see you guys around, yeah?”

After bidding your goodbyes, you and Kuroo turned to head towards the hospital cafeteria for lunch.

It wasn’t exactly the confession you had in mind - let alone one you had planned - but hey, it worked out, didn’t it?

You had better not see that stupid nurse anywhere near your boyfriend again - your actual boyfriend, Kuroo Tetsuro.

a/n: hi again, it’s Lyssa :) hope you liked the fic! and i sure hope it was what @shine-sushi had requested hehe,, again - my writing isn’t that good, i’m still learning, so feedback and tips are welcome! thank you for reading and hope you have / had a good day!! ily <3

© educatedsimps 2021. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated :)

[thatonegayship]

Since no one seems to want to write a mirror sex one-shot for these two idiots, I guess I’ll just have to do it my damn self, smh. 

This is some depraved Billdip right here.

Explicit

TW: Semi-public sex (briefly), Mirror sex, light bondage, and like 10k words of build-up

Read it here or on AO3!

No one’s surprised when they show up together. Mabel at least tries to be, but really, it’s been obvious for well over six months the tension between them. It’s only that much more obvious now, with Bill’s hand in Dipper’s back pocket, Dipper’s eyes fixed forward. 

Cipher’s always been a little too touchy (Hell, having a body does things to the senses. Tingly, unorthodox things). Running fingers through someone else’s hair isn’t some heinous crime, and the act’s more like detangling knots and separating curls than it is intimate, anyways (Dipper always bats his hand away when Bill pulls at the softer part of his scalp; he sits up and loses the spot in his journal just to push the demon off). If Bill sits too close, or rests his hands too low, no one bats an eye.

What tips people off is Dipper, who swears up and down how much he hates having Bill around, but always bites his lip, and bites it so hard one day, it nearly costs him stitches. It’s embarrassing to walk around with teeth-marks on his lower lip, especially when the person he’s been biting that lip for can’t help but trail the markings with a slow, curling smirk. The stitches are avoided, but people notice just how often he’s catching a grin between his teeth when a certain demon appears; they side-glance him every time. 

So, yes. No one’s surprised when they show up together. There are a few whispers of course, because-. Well, Dipper’s not the house-party type, and even though Bill is, people aren’t exactly trampling over themselves to invite the town’s psychopath anyplace social (not that it ever stops him). 

Weirdmaggedon’s still a touchy topic, but it’s one of those things people opt not to mention. 

If someone does bring it up (when Bill first resurfaces, it’s all anyone talks about), there’s usually a pause, maybe a faint nod of agreement when one of them mutters, old and disheartened, “It just ain’t smart, keepin’ him around,” before going about their business. One of the perks of having a body is that people treat you human, and one of the perks of having an attractive body is that people treat you human, and then some. If they ever choose to run him out of town, Cipher’ll first have to drop all the way down from a 10 to a 6, at least.

Until then, the boys make for some pretty fantastic eye candy.

Dipper feels the hand in his right-back pocket squeeze, and promptly yanks Bill’s arm away from him, knocking a fist against the demon’s chest.

 “Okay, yeah, no. Not cool,” he repremends. Bill only rolls his eye.

“What do you expect my hand to do on your ass? Play chess?” he teases. It tricks a slight snort out of Dipper, though he makes up for it with a less than approving frown.

“God, would you try to behave?” Dipper groans, running a hand through his hair. “You’re lucky Pacifica and I are cool; you’re not exactly the face people wanna see around here.”

Bill can only laugh at that, slinging an arm around Dipper’s shoulders; it earns himself an even dirtier frown than the first. “I’m honored. I haven’t been invited to one of these human-festivities since they were burning people at the stake.”

Dipper chooses not to hear the part of that statement that suggests Bill definitely fucked around during Salem, and probably caused a good portion of it (Holy shit, he’s been around way, way too long). Instead, he tilts his head curiously. 

“Didn’t you ever go to parties with Ford?” Dipper asks.

That gets a full, surprised laugh out of Bill (He laughs a little too hard, if Dipper’s being honest). “You think that guy was invited to parties? Oh, sapling,” he coos. Dipper glares at the condescending hand Bill pats his head with (even if it does feel kind of nice) before shaking it off. “Last time anyone in your family was invited to a party, it was-. Let’s see.” Bill counts on his fingers with a hum, only to shrug. “Well, I forget when the Freemasons disbanded, but-.”

“Ha-ha.” Dipper rolls his eyes. Bill’s too charming to be this big of an ass, on top of everything else. Maybe he knows that. Bill certainly likes pushing the boundary between “loveable scamp” and “definite war criminal” every three-to-four seconds, so the line that separates them is muddled. “You’re so smart and clever, it’s a wonder everyone despises you.”

“Jealousy often has that effect,” Bill sighs, buffing his nails on the front of his shirt. He really is an ass. Even more-so when he tries getting his teeth around Dipper’s earlobe, only for a hand to block his trajectory; people are already scrutinizing the openly possessive arm slung around Dipper’s shoulder. That’s more than enough attention.

“You’re ridiculous.” Dipper shrugs out from under Bill’s embrace, elbowing him in the side. Bill only hums.

“And?” he presses. Dipper scoffs, the tiniest of smiles edging across his lips.

“And I hope you die. I hope we both die.”

The “flattered” pose Bill takes is about as real as Stan’s denchers, and the “touched” voice he uses is even less convincing. “You’re really pulling on my heart-strings now, Sapling,” he assures, straightening the bowtie around his neck. “You come up with that line yourself?”

Dipper rolls his eyes, but nods his head in turn. “Oh, yeah. Definitely.”

“Beautiful. Plagiarism really brings out your eyes,” Bill says. For a moment, Dipper slips up, and he really does smile, but it’s quick and fleeting. He hides the upturned corners of his mouth by scratching his nose; hell, it’s hard enough managing this demon with his defenses up. Imagine if Bill realised Dipper found him charming. They’d have to evacuate the town.

“You really are an idiot,” Dipper replies. Bill smiles far too hard at that; he knows he’s charming, and everyone really should be worshipping him for it, but it’s the fact that Dipper doesn’t outright praise him that makes his responses interesting. Even though he knows what’s in Bill’s pants and vice versa, he’s not impressed until he is, and even when he is, he keeps it to himself. Dipper Pines can’t stand narcissists. It makes their arrangement all the more ironic.

Bill hums. “You’d be amazed what an idiot can do. For example, accidentally bringing me back to-.”

“Don’t.” Dipper cuts, whirling on him with a pointed finger. This is the one instance he can hold a look that’s (by any human’s standard) particularly chilling. It’d stop most people in their tracks. Bill thinks it’s cute.

“Oh, are we still sensitive about that?” Bill presses a finger into his cheek, smug; probably getting off to Dipper’s left eye doing that little twitch thing that he just loves. There’s a beat of fight behind the boy’s gaze (there always is, let’s not kid ourselves), and it only amplifies itself whenever someone brings that up. People haven’t let him live it down; Bill most of all.

“Screw you,” Dipper seaths.

Bill has a million things to say in response to that particular phrase, but he opts to keep his mouth shut and just enjoy the sour look on his Pinetree’s face. He always knows how to shut Dipper up with that little reminder, and the powertrip’s kind of fantastic. Dipper’s making that one face he does when he’s really tee’d off, where his nose wrinkles at the bridge, his mouth gets all small and pinched, and he’s slightly flushed, because that’s his massive screw-up being flung back in his face, by Bill who technically is the screw up, and is screwing him, and he’s never not smug about those two facts (No one needs to know the ladder, but with the way Bill’s keeping close quarters at Dipper’s side, a hand snatched at his waist, it’s not hard to guess something’s up).

Bill leads them (even though it’s Dipper who’s been there a thousand times) through the crowds of people. The party isn’t wild by Gravity Falls’ standards, aside from one guy hanging off a corner of the Northwest’s chandelier, another skateboarding down the banister. It’s actually pretty tame all considering, but that’s no surprise with the reputation Pacifica’s drummed up for herself; the last guy to misbehave at one of her parties got a pretty nasty acrylic in his eye. She’s off to the side nursing a wine glass between her fingers, staring down at her phone when the two boys enter, but even with the blaring music, the low lights, fog in the air, her eyes lift on alert and almost instantly zero in on them (creepy). 

Bill’s tugging one way, but Pacifica gives Dipper a “look” that means she expects him to come her way, and honestly, he’s at least nine times more intimidated by his best friend than he is the literal dream-demon. When Bill tries leading him towards the dance floor (everyone clears out just at the sight of him, which feeds his ego as the terrifying monster that he is, thank you very much) Dipper resists, and instead finds himself doing the tugging. Bill follows effortlessly.

Dipper raises his hand slightly on approach, not really smiling, but stretching his lips in an awkward almost-grin. “Hey, Paz,” he says. 

Once he’s close, Pacifica takes a long sip of her wine, eyes cast over the brim of her glass, trailing up and down his figure. She puts the wine glass down, then her phone. Instead of returning the greeting, she sharpens her gaze with pursed lips, chin nestled between her fingers.

“Hmm,” she hums slowly, leaning forward, then back, making Dipper shift on his feet. Pacifica grabs her wine again, and with the long line of her finger, makes a circular motion. “Turn.”

Dipper chokes a weird, surprised noise. “Are you serious?” he sputters. Pacifica lifts an eyebrow at that. Right. The only reason Bill’s allowed within thirty feet of this party is because Dipper’s adhering to dress-code for once. Every inch of fabric on his person is Pacifica-approved (Of course it is; she picked everything out).

It’s impossible to win a stare-down with the face of a multi-million dollar fashion corporation, but Dipper damn-well tries, before finally giving in with a groan and one quick spin on his heels, displaying his outfit with a complete lack of flair. 

“Happy?” he sighs.

Pacifica nods, letting her lips uncurl. It’s a lot of approval from someone like her, the most glaring proof being the phone out of her hands, but it hardly lasts. 

“You’d look better in a skirt,” she mutters into the cup in her hand.

If that weren’t the topic on her tongue for the past nine months, Dipper might’ve been caught off guard. He’s still not sure how he’s fought her demands off this long, but it’s a miracle she hasn’t gotten what she wants yet. Call it divine intervention, or just a slow, calculated death. 

“How about Over My Dead Body?” he replies.

“Coward,” she snorts, fixing the strap of her dress before shooting his figure another up-and-down. Her face looks almost pained, if not the slightest bit amused. “Those legs are wasting away under ripped denim, just FYI.”

“Were you gonna say hello, or did you just feel like scrutinizing me?”

Pacifica tilts her head. “Hello, Dipper. Bill. Those legs are wasting away under ripped denim. Just FYI,” she repeats, this time with a slight laugh in her voice. Dipper’s either trying not to frown, or trying not to grin, and either’s just fine by her.

“Remind me to wear Crocs next time I’m here,” Dipper says, crossing his arms.

Pacifica eases more firmly into her seat, leaning over to retrieve the phone at her side. 

“Go ahead. You’ll be shot on-sight,” she jokes (Or does she?), taking one final swig of her glass to finish it up. It eases her features out of that really hard, really judgmental expression that Dipper hates. 

This time, she stares at the whole of him, not just an up-and-down glance, sliding an arm over the couch to cradle her cheek. “You look good, though. Actually, like... I’m kind of impressed with myself.” A hum, then a nod. “One more turn,” she says with a twirl of her finger.

Dipper laughs despite himself. “No. You’ve had enough for one night.”

“You’re the one who agreed to this, nerd. I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough.” Pacifica looks, then shakes her head. “I really did do a good job.” She balls a fist under her chin and leans out like she’s watching TV, which is a little weird, definitely. Dipper shifts around (should he - like - pose? That’d probably look silly).

“A great job!” Bill chimes in, resituating an arm around Dipper, who jumps at his interjection. Bill’s hand weaves its way through Dipper’s hair like a pet. “I’m surprised you cleaned him up so well! He’s usually a little… ya know.”

“Hey! Fuck you,” Dipper bites. The arm over his shoulder is practically thrown off this time, and the hand in his hair is slapped away. Bill doesn’t seem to mind.

If Pacifica’s even a little freaked out by having Bill Cipher at her party, she doesn’t let on. The slightest hint of mortification is a shrink in her iris and maybe a small drop in posture, but it snaps back like a finger, and she’s casual and composed. Instead of looking scared, she looks amused.

“Well, obviously. That’s to be expected from a commoner. I’m hoping to teach it out of him one day,” she replies, crossing a leg over the other.

Dipper gapes at her, because-. Well, rude, for one. For another, she says it entirely too easily. “Okay, fuck both of you, actually,” he scoffs. They don’t seem to hear him.

“You’re ambitious, I’ll give you that. Can’t imagine you’ve faced a harder project.” Bill rests the side of his head in his hand, glancing over his partner like he’s some jumble of wires that just won’t untangle. Isn’t that just the pinnacle of asshole-ary? Dipper starts to scowl.

“He’s got potential. Under all his… stuff.” A butler comes over to refill the empty wine glass in Pacifica’s hand. She rotates it around, a smile itching her lips when she lifts the cup to her mouth.

“I’m within earshot, in case anyone forgot,” Dipper snarks, looking between the two of them. This, at least, gets them to stop for a moment. Pacifica rolls her eyes, taking a too-long sip before setting the glass aside. Her mouth prunes at the taste; this wine’s a bit stronger.

“Right, right. Sit down.” She gestures towards a seat for him to take, but Dipper keeps to his feet. “I still need to coach you on your hair. Did you use the-?”

“Yes, I used your overpriced conditioner,” Dipper sighs.

Pacifica examines him, then hums approvingly. “It looks good.”

“It looks the same,” he shoots back.

“I can assure you $400 dollars worth of imported à feuilles persistantes is not the same as washing your hair with the bar of soap you used on your ballsack.” The drink in her hand raises to her lips. Again, it’s a little strong, but her features maintain their composure, so that when she meets Bill’s eye, her expression is level and good-humored. 

“Wouldn’t you agree?” she asks.

It’s all Bill can do not to break into a laugh, even if his face is upturned in the most annoying expression. 

“You’re a genius. He’s absolutely glowing under your influence! I hardly recognise the guy,” he goes on to say, loving the rise each word gets out of his Pinetree. Dipper’s arms are practically braided over his chest. With his shoulders up around the ears and a perpetually unappreciative glower pulling the corners of his lips… Well, he looks downright adorable, but it’s mainly funny.

“See?” Pacifica throws her hand out, gesturing at the demon, but looking at Dipper. It takes exactly three seconds to recognize he’s not amused, and another half-second to see he’s not playing along. Her arm drops. “I’m unappreciated.” She waits a beat, then sighs. “It’s alright. You don’t do charity work for recognition, you do it for the greater good.”

Jesus, are Dipper’s friends all assholes?

He blinks slowly, easing out of a pout, into stoic. He shifts his weight onto his right foot. “Are you done yet?” Dipper asks. 

“Almost,” she hums, wiping a thumb over her lips. Again, she twirls her finger. “One more turn.” 

There’s a groan. Dipper’s head tilts back with an eye roll, shoulders dropping at the demand. Of all the important people in his life, why are most of them sociopaths? Is it him? Dipper tries not to think about it when he lifts his arms out, making a full 360 for the diva nursing her second glass of wine. 

It’s not a round of applause, but Bill whistles obnoxiously, and the sound Pacifica makes is a good one. It takes her one lean-back to drain the half-cup of wine in her glass (holy shit). Pacifica looks at him, then away, like he’s hard to face. 

“You look so, so good, oh my god.” Her head falls into her hands with a groan, which really should be flattering. Dipper wants to be flattered, but it’s almost too obvious Pacifica thinks him being even remotely attractive tonight is due to giving him a bottle of conditioner, pants with a belt, and taking off his glasses. The entire thing is just about patting herself on the back, and-. Holy shit, he needs to see a psychologist; everyone in his life is a narcissist.

“I should get an award for this,” Pacifica lifts her head.

Goddamn bitch.

Dipper’s about to say something in response to that bullshit, when Bill winds up just behind him to grab his face by the cheeks; he gets a pretty strong pinch going on either one. 

“His stupid little face brings it all together, doesn’t it?” The demon drags his head close, tricking a mewl out of Dipper’s mouth; shocked definitely, but also discomforted, and maybe a little desperate for touch that isn’t condescending. He wrenches his face out of Bill’s hold, scowling even harder now.

He should’ve known putting these two in the same room was going to cost his self-esteem. Whatever’s left, at least. Dipper rubs his cheeks.

“Totally, totally,” Pacifica nods. One of her servants is coming over with another bottle of wine, even though it’s been less than a few minutes at best, and Bill’s smirking at Dipper like his little “Stupid Face” comment was brilliantly romantic. Well, it’s on the lesser side of insults with a ring of the ghost of a complement; that’s fair in a way. Still, Dipper’s eyes lower, hands sliding down his pants. He retucks his dumb designer shirt back under its dumb designer belt.

“Right,” he huffs, then lower, “I’m gonna get a drink.”

“Need help?” Bill asks, trying for the millionth time to get his arm permanently around Dipper’s shoulder. The smaller steps out of it, like ducking trees.

“Getting drunk? I’ll figure it out,” Dipper tries for playful, but it’s uneven with a little too much hurt in his voice, and it doesn’t help that he stops frowning. If anything, it proves he’s actually thinking about things, instead of just letting the jabs wash over him like he always does.

Bill’s a clever guy, despite his usual antics. He catches the slight mood shift easily, eyeing Dipper over before running a hand down the side of his own face (he adores his Pinetree, he really does, but he can be so sensitive, and not in the fun, sexy kinda way). Bill groans, and with a forced smile, tries drawing Dipper in from where he stepped away by his hand. 

“Come on; we’re teasing, Pinetree!” Bill whines.

“Mmhmm,” Dipper hums, leaning away from the hand holding his; he’s not… mad, per say. He’s not mad at all. It’s just-. Well. He can already tell it’s going to be a long night with these two ganging up on him so naturally, it’s kind of draining. 

And, okay. Maybe he feels pretty good in Pacifica’s pretentious little outfit, even with all the added bells and whistles (Dipper fought off a nose piercing with his dying breath, but his ears suffered their fate. They sting like hell, Mabel won’t stop poking and prodding the backs, and he can already tell if Bill demands to attend anymore of Pacifica’s lame events, it’s only a matter of time before there’s a ring dangling from his septum). 

It’s not a big deal being dragged down from that cozy almost-confidence, it’s almost unnatural to feel attractive, but it’s just-. 

Very frustrating. Dipper slips his grip out of Bill’s.

When Dipper steps back, Bill groans harder, the smile on his face at least somewhat annoyed, but he’s pushing to keep the mood light. “Oh, don’t be like that! You know I could never live without your stupid little face, when it makes that stupid little-. Yeah, yeah, that,” he assures, gesturing at Dipper’s apparently stupid face.

Dipper lifts a hand to his cheek, then frowns. “I’m not-. My face isn’t-. Whatever. I’ll be back,” he grumbles tiredly. There’s a punch bowl just a few feet away, and people are starting to resurface now that Bill’s out of sight. Dipper looks towards it, making a small half-step in its direction, when something dings at the back of his brain. 

There’s only one person capable of causing any real damage in the time it takes him to cross the room for a drink. 

His eyes go slanted. Dipper spins around on his heels in one swift move, layering Bill with challenge in his gaze, and an accusatory finger jabbing the demon’s chest. “Don’t do anything while I’m gone, okay?”

It rings a laugh out of Bill’s mouth. “It’s cute, you think you have authority over me.” 

Dipper plants his hands on his hips, and while it does nil in the face of an omnipotent dream-demon, it’s at least entertaining enough (If Bill’s honest with himself, he lets Dipper get away with way too much, just for being idiotically fun to mess with. Otherwise, he’d be a pile of ash, the way he pushes things). 

Dipper’s face doesn’t ease up at his teasing. With a sigh, Bill relents, lifting his hands in surrender (his Pinetree’s a real card, this one). 

“Alright, alright! I’ll play nice as long as you’re away, then it’s business as usual. Deal?” Bill offers with a sly grin.

Dipper really steps back this time, and with a nasty, not-playing-around look, he eyes the hand outstretched towards him and makes a point of avoiding it. Instead, he turns towards Pacifica. “He,” Dipper hisses. “Stays off the wine, got it?”

“Already done.” Pacifica solutes, her eyes cast on her phone.

“Buzz-kills,” Bill sniffs. The demon doesn’t seem fazed by way of his tone. More playful than anything, and probably amused they think their “teamwork” can keep him in check.

(It has, but-. Well, this is a party. They’re both out of their element here. No doubt about it).

Bill crosses his arms, leaning off to the side as he watches his Pinetree wade into the clustered crowds of people. He has to admit, even without the fitted pants, it��s always a pleasure getting an eyeful of him from behind. Always. Bill rests his head in his hand as a sharp, coy smile spreads across his face.

There’s shifting behind him when Pacifica speaks. “You think we took that too far?”

“Huh?” Bill turns, looking back at the girl who has her palm rested flat under her chin. It takes him a second to realize where her eyes are rested, but once he catches on, he lets out a snort. “Aw, he’ll get over it! He knows we’re not serious.” Bill waves her off with his right hand, grinning in the direction his Pinetree disappeared amongst the crowd.

“He probably doesn’t,” Pacifica retorts, lowering yet another glass of wine from her lips (The fact that she’s being so whiny about Dipper’s sad little ego-. someone should probably cut her off for the night).

Bill considers her words, looking off. His hands slide into his pockets; even with just the top of Dipper’s head all he can make out from the crowd, the stench of moping is palpable. It’s not hard to see where Pacifica’s coming from. 

“Yeah, he’s stupid like that.” Bill nods, sliding his hands out of his pockets. “The hot ones always are.” 

To that, Pacifica has to agree. “Uh-huh,” she goes, lifting the drink in her hand. She’s definitely had too much now, what with the lazy, lidded glaze over her eyes, and the way she drops the glass from her mouth. Still, her head tilted to the side, a small hiccup behind her hand, Pacifica nods in Dipper’s direction. “You should say something.”

Bill puts a defensive hand over his chest. “Me? You started it, Llama. I’m just the comedic relief here,” he protests.

Of all the years Bill’s known Dipper, and the previous year when he got to know Dipper, on some weird, invasively human-level, they’ve never really been… sincere. Not that they lie to one another (although they definitely do), but they keep the mooey-gooey to a minimum. It’s not Dipper’s style (he’s a real worm when it comes to expressing himself). It’s definitely not Bill’s style, since he’s got the same problem, but about 1,000x worse.

Pacifica’s looking at him though, like she can see right through his skull, into his brain. It’s tingly and purseptive and actually pretty freaky on humans, Bill thinks. He’s… kind of impressed.

She levels him with a cold, piercing gaze. This time, her voice is threatening. “You should say something.”

Yup. Bill is very, very impressed. 

Impressed enough not to kill her on the spot of course, but also enough to take another, less wistful, more contemplative glance in Dipper’s direction. 

Hell, he’s got nothing against confrontation. Dipper might appreciate the gesture (ugh) and Bill can get himself a few kisses if he’s smart about the whole thing (less ugh). Besides, his human could do with a few more pounds on his ego; it’s healthy!

Instead of admitting defeat, he lifts his shoulders, drops them, and walks into the mosh pit of humans. As he does, he twists on his heels, back-peddling to call out to Pacifica. 

“I can see why you don’t have a lot of friends! You’re scary; keep it up!” He gives her a thumbs up, to which she raises her middle finger.

Where Dipper’s situated, the red solo cup’s brim gnawed between his teeth keeps in place. He likes chewing on things. No shame in that. The cup begins to split at the rim though, and that’s a little more weird. He’s trying not to bite his fingernails (He kicked pen-chewing two summers back, but picked up the ladder by chance; like quitting cigarettes and starting cigars).

A hand rides down his chest. His clothes feel tight (really tight, with the way these people are so close to his sides, shoulder to shoulder, back-to-front), but when he pulls at the collar of his shirt, it creates this giant gap against his chest like an endless, open train-tunnel; he must be impossibly malnourished then. He must be so boney. And yet his clothes are incredibly tight, and every inch tailers like a second skin.

There’s a creek of plastic under his teeth and a trail of punch down his chin. Dipper quickly snatches the cup from his mouth, wiping the drink off his lips, and instead rests back on one foot, mindlessly placing the nail of his thumb between his teeth. He’s not biting down, but his features are tense. 

He feels… Really gross. In public. The designer clothes aren’t helping, regardless of whatever Pacifica might say. With the way everything moves and bends with him, not the least-bit stained, torn, tattered, Dipper feels completely outside of his comfort zone; It’s not a flannel shirt and some jeans he’s wearing. It’s not his everyday, run-of-the-mill get-up. He’s wearing… Clothes. Really nice clothes, and-.

Well, he felt good before, but now he just feels pretentious, like he’s geared up for everyone to look at him. Like he thinks he’s hot shit, even though he doesn’t. Dipper, at the sudden turn of his stomach, snips down on his fingernail and finds he’s tearing into it on impulse. The tension in his jaw flexes, tooth breaking nail, before easing up when he’s torn off a strip. After over a month without biting, it throbs a little, but it’s calming. 

He takes a breath- two- dropping the hand from his mouth before taking a sip of his drink. 

Looks don’t mean anything, anyways. 

Dipper closes his eyes for a second, but it’s hard with so many people coming within inches of him; it’s this daunting force about to topple him over. Instead of easing out of the invasive fold of his clothes (everything touches everywhere; every rib-bone is visible through the lining of his shirt, he can tell), Dipper feels himself settle into his own thoughts. He grits his teeth, breathing harshly through the nostrils.

Looks don’t mean anything.

But it’s-.

Dipper rubs the back of his neck, hunching over himself, feeling about as pathetic as he probably looks.

He wants to be attractive.

The thought makes him frown. He abandons his solo cup by the punch bowl, creating a wide berth for one guy trying to score himself a drink; the man leans over the table where a stack of red solos reach the ceiling, and his arm feels dangerously close to where Dipper stands, just by being outstretched in his direction. 

His skin clams up.

The whole of his skeleton is just poking through his body. He looks ridiculous with his shirt all tucked in, the pants clad over his legs fitted and right, instead of three fingers over-sized. Dipper wants to tear out the backs of the stupid, dumb studs Pacifica had pierced into his ears, but they’re still fresh and sensitive. The hair on his head isn’t sitting right, and he hates how there’s space in the shoes he’s wearing, because they’re new and stylish and meant to fit. 

He’s so stupid. This whole event’s stupid-.

“Got’cha!” comes a booming voice from behind him. Dipper yelps at the hands slammed over either shoulder and nearly falls on his back when he’s whirled around to face-.

Dipper, for the billionth time that night, slaps Bill’s hands off him.

“Thought I’d lost you to the crowd! You’re a hard one to track, you know,” Bill tsks, wagging a finger in his face. 

Dipper’s features flinch, first sour, then sad, then a soft, indifferent look as his hands slide into his pant-pockets. “I was by the punch bowl.” His head tilts in the bowl’s direction. His gaze doesn’t meet the demon’s.

Bill glances briefly at the punch bowl before rolling his eye. 

“Gee, thanks for the heads-up. I’ll look there next,” he snorts, smirking himself silly. The mosh of people surrounding them hasn’t dispersed with his presence like it should have. It’s too close-knit to notice the demon, and Bill’s too pleased with the privacy to announce himself; it’s been a long time since he was last unsuspected by a town full of idiots. Or even a room.

One guy tries squeezing past him, and Bill trips him up with a concealed leg, watching the poor fellow bang his chin into a corner of the table.

He turns back towards his Pinetree with a bright, preening smile. “Find what you were looking for?” Bill asks Dipper, falling back so naturally into that easy tone, it’s only by chance Dipper notices Bill’s finger tapping against a folded arm, the back of his foot jittering once and then settling. 

Dipper doesn’t give a verbal response; only grabs his drink from the punch bowl table, lifts it with this pressed, tee’d look, wiggling it in Bill’s face like ‘right here, jackass.’ 

Bill purses his lips. “You sure took your sweet time getting it.”

“I was gone for like, two minutes.” The drink rises to his mouth, but Dipper only speaks into the cup. His nose tilts almost completely into the solo, and with the bridge of his nose only hairs away from the cup’s brim, he looks like a sad, muzzled dog.

“It doesn’t take ten seconds to grab a cup of punch,” Bill tsks again, reaching out to lower the drink from his Pinetree’s mouth. He peers in. “And look at that; you’ve hardly touched it!”

“I’m not thirsty,” Dipper snips.

“Then why’d you get one?” Bill shoots back.

Dipper doesn’t stammer like he normally would, feeling all too stoic when he shrugs the question away. His back leans against the wall behind him, and he finds he’s gravitating more and more towards the corner to his right, all until he’s nestled in like a bird. He looks off towards the sea of people practically walling them in.

“I felt like it, I don’t know. Why do you care?” he asks, even though it’s not actually a question. It’s an accusation. Bill shouldn’t be so tuned into whatever Dipper gets himself up to, whether it’s moping around or drinking his drink. The last part’s a jab, and Bill knows perfectly well it is, because all it’s really meant to do is get them talking about why Dipper’s so obviously upset, or run the demon off. There’s fair opportunity for some smart banter wedged between those words, but for once Bill’s not fast enough to catch the opening slot before Dipper’s eyeing him, looking away, and nodding ahead. 

“Go back to Pacifica. I’ll be there in a sec,” he mumbles, replacing the cup against his mouth.

Bill only saddles up next to him, cozy in the corner Dipper’s wiggled himself so pathetically into. “Eh, she’s no fun. Not like you,” Bill teases, side-eyeing him graciously.

Dipper doesn’t look at him. “Yeah?”

Bill throws an arm out, one big, narcissistic grin cut across his face. “Of course! There’s no joy in life without you around to laugh at!” he assures.

Dipper looks at Bill once, then away, and something sinks in his chest.

Is Bill being funny?

Or… 

Well, after a guy’s non-stop “funny” for the past few months, you have to stop and wonder if he’s actually joking, and you’re not just diluting yourself to protect that little bit of ego in your back pocket.

Dipper huffs. “Right.” 

He makes a move to step out and away from Bill’s presence, maybe to get another drink, even though the one in his hand is still mainly full, but the demon catches him by the waist before he makes a complete half-step.

“Hey! That’s a good thing! I’m calling you entertaining!” Bill draws him in close, chest-to-chest, sounding so exasperated, Dipper can’t help but glower. 

There’s a rumble in the demon’s throat, and a grin across his lips. “Oh, don’t make that face; it’s too cute!” 

What face is he making? Dipper’s not sure. Bill presses a finger against his nose, making it scrunch and pinken.

“What? Having a ‘stupid face’ is cute?” Dipper can’t help but let some of the hurt seep into his voice, wafting the hand on his nose away, but Bill’s eager to play around; he doesn’t catch on until after he’s opened his mouth.

“Very!” He leans in sharply, looking every ounce the handsome jackass that he is, his hand placed at the side of Dipper’s head, eyebrow arched high.

Dipper waits for Bill to drop the act, but he doesn’t. 

A beat of silence. Dipper hums, then nods his head. 

“I’m gonna walk away now,” he says.

Again, he steps out of Bill’s presence. As though expected, the demon hauls him back by his waist for the second time, swinging him a little before they’re hip-to-hip. It’s a good sign, the way Dipper moves so easily under his touch. He’s upset, but he’s not actually fighting. He wants Bill to make things better, in whatever way he’s aiming for, if he still allows the demon to wrangle him around without socking him in the nose.

“Woah, woah, woah, hey, hey, hey! Ok, alright, I’ll cut the crap; yeesh, kid,” Bill huffs, letting the smile on his face drop. He levels Dipper with a semblance of seriousness, but nothing close to satisfactory. “So you got your feelings hurt-.”

Dipper jabs a thumb behind himself. “Walking. Away,” he warns.

This makes Bill groan a long, terrible sigh. 

“Ok! I hurt your feelings!” he confesses, throwing his hands in the air. The next part, he says hesitantly, almost uncertain, like the phrase confuses him. “And now you’re upset?” Bill tests the words in his mouth. Well, they sound right, but his whole body goes on high alert with how his Pinetree’s expression shifts so seamlessly; there’s a very crucial detail missing, if the deadly sneer on Dipper’s lips is anything to go by.

“Would you like to be more specific, or is this going to be more of your cryptic bullshit?”

Bill can’t find it in himself to fire back with some brilliant retort, but he makes a sound so obviously offended, it’s nearly wild how naturally the noise manifests itself. 

“I thought you liked my cryptic bullshit.” Bill protests. Dipper folds his arms over his chest; as much as Bill would like to lick a little harder at that particular wound, he knows not to get off track. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll cut to the chase,” is Bill’s tired reply, rubbing the underside of his eye; Llama’s getting one hell of a nightmare after this. He sucks in a deep breath, holds it, and lets it out in one big puff. 

“It was a joke,” he explains.

There’s silence between them. Dipper stands there, still, like he’s waiting for something more to follow the initial statement. But, what’s he waiting to hear? The guy’s got himself the whole situation, start to finish, muscled in with an explanation and a kind of takesy-backsies, in an “I didn’t mean it” sort of way. That should be enough! 

And yet, the look on his Pinetree’s face only sours at Bill’s response. He blinks so slow, it’s almost comical.

“Alright, yeah. Nope. Fuck you,” Dipper breaths after a moment, near-laugh, but also… Not a cry, but the offence taken up in his voice isn’t anything fun to hear. He’s pulling away from Bill again, and as much as the demon tries to keep him in place, Dipper’s putting a little more muscle into forming a gap. Not a good thing. The hand running through his hair can only be in distress. 

“I get this is like-. Like being an ass is your thing, but you seriously don’t have an off switch-?”

“It was, though!” Bill interrupts. Dipper jumps. “You think I’d pick at your looks if you weren’t the most screwable guy here? You’re usually so unphased!”

Dipper doesn’t seem to understand that the whole thing was for fun! If he were actually unappealing, Bill wouldn’t have said a word (it’s hard keeping the mood light when some ugly bastard’s got their self-esteem in a tizzy, just because you bothered to bring up the obvious). Besides, Bill meant no harm. Hot-egos are usually cushion enough to get a few good jabs in, and for people like Dipper, who don’t get they’re attractive, it’s all about thick skin. His Pinetree usually has thick skin.

Not tonight, apparently.

“Well now I am phased, okay? And it’s-. Look, you’re being a serious dick right now, so could you just cut it out?”

There’s a very real pause between them when Bill looks into his eyes and Dipper looks back; they seem to be thinking the same thing the second it’s said, because the demon’s face sort of… morphs with the request, into a very confused shape, and Dipper only looks disappointed in himself.

“Cutting it out” isn’t really an option.

Bill scratches his chin, clearing his throat. “...Dial it back?” he suggests.

There’s a drop in Dipper’s shoulders, from being tight and wound, to so sloped that they practically dislocate from their sockets. He sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “Sure. Whatever.”

“Alright. I’ll try.” Bill stretches his arms up then out, like he’s preparing for a marathon. His elbows lock with the interlace of his fingers, making a slight crack at the pop of his knuckles, which gets an eyeroll out of his Pinetree. Maybe even a little scoff. 

“You,” Bill coos, drawing the boy in, once again, by his hand, until he’s got either arm wrapped around Dipper’s lower back. “Look stunning tonight.” His teeth are sharp to a point, the pink of his gums peeking out under his lips. It gets the tiniest of snorts from Dipper, but that’s only because Bill’s so ridiculous when he needs to be (He might also like the closeness of their chests). The demon goes on.

“You looked stunning yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and the day you were born,” Bill layers, leaning in on his target until their foreheads are pressed together. Dipper’s looking away now- down, between their bodies- but the tiniest of grins twitches the corner of his mouth before evaporating.

“What? When I was a baby?” he deep pans, trying with every muscle not to give in so easily, but-. Damn it, his demon is so charming sometimes.

“Don’t ruin the mood.” Bill pokes his nose. “Llama-.”

“You,” Dipper corrects. Bill scoffs.

“Llama and I, how about that?” The arms around Dipper’s lower back pull him in a little closer, and he steadies himself awkwardly on his feet. Dipper tries (by god, does he try) not to tilt his head up- he wants the hood of his brow to keep him glaring- but with how close they are, and how much taller Bill is than him, Dipper finds he has to if he wants to meet the other’s gaze. It makes him feel small. Like this, it isn’t so bad, but it’s patronizing the way his chin comes up just above Bill’s collar bone.

“You know we love poking fun at you. You’ve got that little… your nose does that tiny-. And then your eyes get all-. I can’t reproduce it of course, but you get the idea. It’s fun making fun of you.”

Dipper’s shoulders, if it’s possible, drop even harder than the first time.

“You’re losing me, fast,” he warns. Bill’s quick to add on.

“But, sometimes we go a little overboard, she and I. You’re a big boy about the whole thing, you never take it to heart, so I guess we just...” Bill’s head tilts side to side, looking up in contemplation. “Thought you wouldn’t take this to heart, especially with how you’re looking.”

Dipper’s defenses are instantly back up from where they’d slipped down. He’s leaning out of Bill’s touch now, expression wary with offense. 

“And how am I looking, exactly?” he challenges. Bill doesn’t skip a beat.

“Like a hot young meal, obviously,” he shrugs.

Dipper falters. 

It sucks. It sucks so much, because he can already feel the tension slip out of his clenched jaw. His eyes go wide and a slight plea bleeds into his expression, right before he brings himself back into that sturn, immovable look; it feels way too good hearing those words, and hearing them like Bill means it. 

He’s only trying to flatter him, Dipper reminds himself. He tries to maintain the hard face he’s making, but it’s too vulnerable now. Looking up at Bill, his brow’s furrowed, but his eyes are borderline begging for validation, even as he squints at the hand patting his cheek.

“You’d think a guy like you’d have a bigger ego to pick at, but you’re all insecure about crappy human stuff.”

Dipper lets the hand stay; It’s warm and scarred from palm to wrist in scrapes and all other madness Bill gets up to. He’s leaning into the touch and he knows it, but as long as Bill doesn’t bring it up, it’s not happening, and they can still argue like Dipper hadn’t melted the second Bill came after him in the crowd.

“So it’s my fault?” Dipper says. Bill runs a thumb against the side of Dipper’s cheek, feeling the tension of his pulled expression, but it’s less reflexive, more forced with the way Dipper actively has to concentrate on keeping up that tight, upset look.

It’s not hard to guess Bill’s already won with just how easily his human opens up to his advances, practically unfolding with every touch. A lot of him wants to laugh (watching Dipper’s “challenging” expression flicker in and out of existence is too much like an angry dog wagging its tail, and who doesn’t enjoy a feisty submission?) but he keeps to the script. It’s no fun winning when your opponent’s still able to move.

(And maybe, just maybe, the thought of anyone finding Dipper less than satisfactory- who would ever doubt Bill’s fantastic taste?- leaves a weird, agitated ache in his chest).

“I think it’s a lot of people’s fault for scrambling your self-esteem to hell.” Bill’s arms leave him for only a second, flaring out for emphasis (It’s up to both of them not to mention how shitty that lack of contact feels, or just how good it feels when his hands resettle on Dipper’s waist).

“I’m just here to let you know that what Llama said, and maybe a smidge of what I said, were only said to keep the potential of a massive ego in check.”

Dipper rolls his eyes. “Ah, yes. Because I’m the one with the ego.”

“You should be!” Bill’s grip tightens at the phrase. A kind of “zip” motion, the way Dipper’s lower back pulls in at Bill’s hands, like the demon needs him that close, can’t stand having even an inch between them (even though there never was). 

It catches Dipper off-guard, who now has his shoulders practically up around the ears and a very much squeezed look on his face. With his chest puffed out the way it is, he looks close to popping, just before Bill eases up. Dipper coughs when the demon’s grip loosens; frowns, but he’s been doing that all night. 

“I mean, come on; I’ve seen everything! I’m a pretty picky guy when it comes to fleshy-stuff, but do you ever hear me complaining about that face? Have I ever turned you down?” 

Dipper thinks about it. 

Well, no, not from what he’s seen. Not in an “I find you revolting” kind of way, at least. Bill is picky with his company; he’ll talk to anyone, but he only hangs with a select few, and bangs even fewer. For all Dipper knows, he’s the first to actually win Bill’s favor in that department, which has to mean something. Bill’s nowhere near refined, but he’s about as high-maintenance as it gets, and who’s to say he’d get within 30 feet of a body he didn’t like the shape of? 

Dipper…

He keeps it in mind.

Bill, master of the mind, doesn’t miss the blatant contemplation flashing across his Pinetree’s face, and decides it’s the perfect weakpoint he needs to move in for the kill. He plays up the smirk on his face (the same one, coupled with lidded eyes, usually means trouble on Dipper’s end), pressing a thumb under his Pinetree’s chin.

“You’re one fine,” Bill starts coolly, riding his tongue over his teeth. “Tantalizing.” The hand on Dipper’s lower back drops an inch. Bill feels the breath in his human’s throat catch. “Flexible little mortal,” he purrs, leaning down to capture those lips in a kiss.

Easy. Too easy.

Except Dipper blocks the trajectory of his mouth with the palm of his hand.

“You still haven’t apologised,” he deadpans. Bill tries so hard not to groan.

It really was too easy.

“Sorry you’re so sexy-,” Bill starts. Dipper’s palm shoves even harder against his lips, pushing his head so far back that his throat makes a long, bumpy ridge. 

Sure. Fine. Okay. So Bill’s gotta play nice, no surprise there. Still, his Pinetree really should stop while he’s ahead; he’s getting a little too comfortable around the same guy who shot a hole through his stomach once.

Dipper pulls his hand back at the shake of Bill’s head, and looks on intently as the demon smooths a hand through his hair, a grimace clear on his face. He huffs. “I’m sorry I teased you. I promise to ease up on the whole looks-thing, and we should seriously consider signing you up for self-confidence classes.”

That hits the nail on the head apparently. Suddenly, the slight smile Dipper’s been starving off is blooming across his face in full color; he’s leaning into Bill’s arms just a bit, like his half-hearted little “sorry” was all it took to have him easing out of that sturn pose. It probably was.

“I’ll pass,” Dipper says, placing either hand on Bill’s chest. He straightens up for a kiss square on the demon’s mouth, humming at the warmth spreading through his ribcage before pulling away. “I forgive you for being an asshole,” he pokes.

Bill snorts. “I accept your forgiveness.” Another kiss, this one fast and fleeting, before he’s arching his eyebrow. “Are we good then?”

Dipper shrugs, looking off. “I mean, yeah?” he replies. A hand comes up to rub the back of his neck; he feels a little silly now that the smoke’s cleared, and he sees just what he was so upset about. The thought has him clearing his throat. “Looks aren’t everything. It doesn’t-.”

Bill stops him short. He already knows what idiotic notion his Pinetree’s working off of, and- sorry, not sorry- it has to be the worst thing ingrained in that annoyingly brilliant little mind of his, right up next to his moral compass and empathy. Before he knows it, he’s smacking Dipper’s little checks between his hands, forcing the human to stare him straight in the eye.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no. None of that. What did I just say?”

Dipper startles at the hands on his face, but unlike every previous instance of contact, simply endures it for the weirdly endearing possessiveness it suggests. He squints. 

“That you’re sorry?” Dipper guesses. Bill shakes his head.

“The other thing,” he hints.

“I need self-confidence classes?”

“Yes, but the other thing.” Bill rolls his eye at the human’s cluelessness. It’s so obvious, honestly, with the theme of the day being all the same. He waits a beat for his Pinetree to catch on, but he just keeps looking at the demon with that dumb, mortal confusion, and by god is that frustrating. The demon can’t help but groan when he blurts out, “You’re sexy, moron!” Bill throws his arms up. “Stupidly, idiotically sexy!”

Dipper jumps at the exclamation, and just the look he gives Bill; well, it can’t be hateful- he could never hate Bill (except for when he did, but those times are over, far as grudges go). He looks more annoyed, like Bill’s still teasing him after the little roller coaster they just rode. Like he’d kick him while he’s down (he wouldn’t, for the record. At most, he’d laugh, and maybe take pictures), because Bill’s so obviously mocking Dipper and all his silly human insecurities.

Dipper really, really doesn’t think he’s attractive. 

From an outside view it’s already insulting, but from Bill’s perspective, as the guy putting all his winnings into this biodegradable bozo, it’s a pretty big question of his judgement. There isn’t anything worse than suggesting he- i.e. Bill Cipher- is wrong about anything. Ever. Him, the guy who’s been around for eons, knows his shit, thank you very much.

Dipper’s face sets in mild frustration for only a moment, then his lips press inwards, eyes snapping down as he fists the base of his shirt. Bill trails the look on that human’s face- wanting to be desirable, but trying not to care- that’s the final straw. 

“Oh, come ‘ere,” Bill coos as he buries his face in Dipper’s neck. There’s a slight yelp as his Pinetree’s backed farther into the wall behind them, into the corner of the room, and a hand comes to the side of his throat, thumb pressing into his jugular. The boy’s back goes rigid, before melting at the smooth circles rubbing into his neck, and he can’t help but snicker when Bill layers the back of his ear with a kiss; it tickles.

“You’re a dork,” Dipper snorts, running a hand through the demon’s hair. He cradles the back of Bill’s head as it moves around, first near the ear, now trailing towards the dip in his collar bone. It gets a pleased hum out of him. “You’re so,” he starts, head leaned back. Dipper’s trying to find the word he needs, swaying side to side on his feet, but he can’t focus with how Bill decides to suck a particularly dark hickey into the side of his neck. It’s all easy, smooth pleasure- fuck it, he’s seen worse PDA at parties, and at least they’re not-.

Dipper jumps, tightening the hand fisted in Bill’s hair. “Your hand’s really low right now.”

He wiggles around a bit, feeling the one hand situated on his neck, while the other one comes dangerously close to his crotch. Bill’s got a hand in between Dipper’s thighs, right below the important stuff, just rubbing up and down, up and down, making the fabric of his pants slide against his leg.

“Mmm,” Bill hums against his neck. He sounds smug, a smile pressed into Dipper’s throat.

“Your hand’s really, really low. Bill, you’re-,” Dipper stops himself then, breathing harder than he’d like when Bill slides his palm over his crotch, and just circles around. He bites Dipper’s neck, worrying the skin between his teeth.

“You are so hot, you know that? You were built to be looked at.” Bill adds pressure to the designated area, basking in the way his Pinetree’s knees jitter, like he can’t keep himself up, so quickly swept away by the sensation. There’s growing interest under Bill’s palm, and within seconds, he can lay the full of his hand against the cute cock trapped in Dipper’s left pant-leg.

Dipper huffs, because if he doesn’t huff, he’s not sure what sound he’s going to make, and that’s just the problem. “This is-. Wow, you move fast. You’re moving-. Uh-.” Dipper’s very close to drawing more attention than he needs. He ducks his head into Bill’s shoulder and bites down, stuffing his mouth full of the demon’s shirt when he can’t help but let out a slow, long groan; this damn guy’s leaning in about as close as humanly possible, and with how Bill’s going about stroking him through his pants-. Dipper gasps, lurching forward when Bill’s hand slides up, off his privates, only to slip a hand past the constraints of his belt and handle him, skin-on-skin. 

Holy shit.

“Bill, we’re-,” Dipper tries, but he gets lost in the sensation. His eyes squeeze shut at the twist of Bill’s wrist; he’s hot-handed, digging past his waistband to get a fist-full of Dipper in this crowded room, and even with any number of people capable of turning around and seeing just what the demon’s doing, Dipper can’t help the tight coil in his lower abdomen. He knows what Bill’s trying to do; it’s annoying, and inappropriate, and he loves how that hand feels on him. Bill’s trying to prove a point, in the most mortifying way possible.

“Bill, we’re in public.” Dipper braces his hands on either of Bill’s shoulders; not pushing away. Trying to steady himself on shaky legs, with the hand down his pants shooting chills up his spine in tantalizing, slow strokes. Bill’s thumb swipes over the concealed slit of Dipper’s cock, chuckling against the human’s neck at the almost violent jump it does in response.

“Stop?” Bill asks coolly, stilling his hand.

A whine catches in Dipper’s throat at the sudden halt, but he swallows it down. The corner they’re in is curtained by a mosh of bodies swaying to music, puffing smoke and singing at the top of their lungs. There are people nearby, but nothing close to brushing hips or bumping shoulders, not with the way Bill’s caging them in, body to body. When Dipper peeps his eyes open, peering around, no one seems to be watching, and if anyone is, he doesn’t see them, and if he doesn’t see them, they don’t exist.

He sucks in a breath at the sight of Bill’s hand down his pants, peeking a bit of tongue out the corner of his mouth to wet his lips. This is stupid. This is probably really stupid. “...Just a minute,” Dipper says.

Bill grins. “Can’t last any longer?” he teases, starting up that slow, teasing pace he had going before. It startles a groan out of the human, hands at either side clawing the wall, like he’s clutching for something to grab onto. His mouth falls open before snapping shut, and he really needs to keep himself under control if he plans on spending any more summers in this town. Dipper bites his lip, furrowed in determination, that aroused, angry look that drives Bill crazy, bare on his face.

“Shut up,” he chokes, sliding his hands farther down the wall and wrapping one around Bill’s wrist; the one in his pants.

[...]

The Northwest’s guest bathroom isn’t nearly as luxurious as the main bedroom’s, but it’s bigger than any hotel room either of the men have hooked up in, and definitely more expensive. 

The bathroom door’s knob is encrusted in intricate golden designs, peddled in tiny leaves and vines, with the whole of one great, old silver tree wrapping around it in 360. The painting that hangs over the toilet is pretentious as anything else (men on horses is one thing, but a man you know on one is something else entirely; Preston Northwest has no taste). The sink is pearly white- marble. Just above it hangs a wondrous, entirely too-large mirror framed in golden vines and leaves, just as the doorknob.

Not that either men seem to notice.

Once the door’s shut behind them, Bill has Dipper slammed against its frame, hands placed on either of his Pinetree’s hips as he grinds his waist against his. Dipper’s left hand fumbles for the knob’s lock, just barely twisting it in place before Bill’s hand is back down the front of his pants, and fuck. This demon’s impatient.

Dipper hisses at Bill’s right hand twisting in his pants, his left palming Dipper’s ass. He’s exactly zero percent slow, now that they’re alone (Bill was close to pulling Dipper’s dick out through the zipper in that corner, and he would’ve if Dipper hadn’t realized the breeze sliding over his tip). With the crowd all gone and Dipper in full agreement, it’s all Bill can do not to jump right to the good part.

He’s got an agenda, after all.

“Feels good?” Bill asks, twisting his wrist on the upstroke, in that heady way he knows his mortal likes. Dipper’s wanting to say something, but it’s hard with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, taking short, tortured breathes through his nose. Dipper rolls his hips up, trying to get a little more of that friction as he wraps his arms around the demon’s neck, which Bill loves. It’s impossible not to when he knows the guy’s practically never kept happy. At least here, like this, Dipper’s simple and easy, with every button Bill knows are good to press. 

He pulls his hand off, looking smug at the noise his Pinetree makes. 

“Aw, look at you.” Bill coos, running a finger down Dipper’s face. Dipper forces himself to let the lip between his teeth go, puffing out a breath as he slides against the door, braving a glare he can’t back up. “Just a hot little human trying to get off; so cute,” Bill teases, sliding his hand back over the front of Dipper’s pants. 

One quick move, and the fly’s coming down, belt undone, underwear tucked neatly below his cock, and with Bill’s hand back on him, it’s hard to look ticked off.

Dipper manages.

“Ah-. God, stop talking. Just-.” Dipper’s head falls back, thighs clenching when he looks down to see that tan hand wrapped tight around his erection. He wants to compose himself- to look in control- but how to go about it when all he knows is that hot swim in his gut and a vicious smile close to devouring him whole? Bill squeezes Dipper’s hip bone, and he finds his body jerking both from and towards the pain.

“You should see yourself.” Bill presses the pad of his thumb against the underside of Dipper’s dick, watching as a bead of precum pearls at the tip. He swipes it away, and the glide of his hand becomes that much easier. “Fuck, you drive me more insane than I already am, did you know that?”

Dipper swallows a groan, running a tongue over his bottom lip where the outline of his teeth burn red. “Ugh, just- put your dick in me,” he starts. Bill laughs, but spins them around to face the mirror. He shoves Dipper against the sink, forcing him to catch himself by gripping either of the faucet’s crystal knobs. 

Dipper’s eyes lock on his own reflection; his face has gone completely flushed by now, hair a mess, the erection between his legs hard as a rock, and now left unattended, what with Bill’s focus repurposed to slide either of his hands down Dipper’s ass. The image is invasive, vulgar, like he’s watching porn rather than living it, and yet he feels what this guy in the mirror’s about to experience, the hands running up and down his back, raising his designer shirt to the dip in his spine, a predatory smile cast over his shoulder from Bill’s reflection-.

He looks away.

There’s a sudden whistle from behind him as Bill, having moved Dipper’s pants down to his mid-thighs, discovers something rather interesting in his back-pocket. “You brought lube? Oh, that’s filthy,” Bill purrs, running his fingernails up Dipper’s spine, ravishing in the full-body shiver it elicits, all while his other hand pops the small bottle open.

Dipper’s face goes red from his cheeks to his chest, all the way to his shoulder blades; it’s a beautiful color, Bill thinks, wetting his fingers with said lube and rubbing circles between Dipper’s legs. 

“Some of us- come prepared.” Dipper gasps at the cool press behind him, feeling two fingers drag up and down while Bill’s hand pries him open to watch. Again, he looks up at his reflection, but he has to glance away because if he doesn’t, he’s going to topple over the edge, and Bill already thinks he’s trigger happy.

He sucks in a breath as a hot finger slides inside him, peeking his head out from where it’d been resting behind folded arms to watch the steady rhythm of Bill’s hand coaxing him open.

“Trust me, you’re not prepared for this coming,” Bill jokes. Well, it’s a pun; Dipper doesn’t doubt he’s walked into yet another one of these encounters severely out-classed. “I’m gonna make you cry.” 

Bill lays the whole of his chest over Dipper’s back, and with his free hand, lifts his Pinetree’s ducked head up by the chin, so his hand rests possessively around Dipper’s craned neck, and his eyes are level with his reflection’s. 

It’s surreal, watching his own pleasure bloom before his eyes. This time, Dipper can’t turn away- not with Bill’s thumb digging into his cheekbone, index and ring pressing into his throat- so he shuts his eyes.

“Keep talking, and I just might,” Dipper snarks back, the hand around his throat sliding away. That gets a chuckle out of Bill, who decides to speed up the jerk of his finger until he’s practically slamming into him. A second finger slides in, and ten seconds later, there’s a third, and a very deliberate press. “Oh-.” 

Dipper can’t help but curl into himself, mouth agape at that fiery pressure shooting through him. For a second, it’s all he can think about, and- eyes shot open, forehead pressed against the glass- he watches freely the congratulatory smirk curl across Bill’s lips, and his own expression, twisted in all kinds of ecstasy.

“Easy, Sapling. Don’t want them hearing you out there.” Bill rests his chin against Dipper’s shoulder, their eyes meeting in the fogged reflection of the mirror. Looking Dipper in the eye while he takes him apart, and seeing that resolve break just at the prompt of Bill’s dominance, is always fantastic. But seeing Dipper’s gaze, and then seeing the whole of himself, how completely and entirely he’s incapacitated his Pinetree, made him submissive, easy and malleable as any other conquest, is an entirely new sensation. 

Oh, he likes this.

Bill leans up, just a bit, to push Dipper’s shirt above the shoulder blades. “Hands behind your back,” he commands.

The pause lasts only a moment, with the line of Dipper’s back going rigid in first alert, then arousal. His eyes trail the reflection of Bill behind him, who’s taking the undone belt from his designer pants, pulling it from its loops with obvious intent; he’s holding it in his free hand, and with his other, twists and presses so hard that Dipper yelps.

There’s a lip between his teeth, then there’s not, and Dipper finds himself slowly folding his hands behind his back. He swallows, layering Bill with expectation.

“I’m trusting you,” Dipper says finally; he can’t help his heart leaping in his throat as Bill takes the belt in his hands and binds either of Dipper’s wrists behind his back.

“Bad idea.” Bill punctuates the statement by cinching the leather tight, and then looping it several times, keeping the excess leather clutched in his fist. “Unless you’re trying to get fucked an inch from your life, that is.”

Dipper can’t see from this angle, but he absolutely feels Bill’s fingers slide out of him, and hears the purr of a zipper being undone. Seconds later, there’s a firm, thick length nestled between his cheeks; he shivers when Bill pulls back, tapping his cock just below Dipper’s tailbone before lining up and leaning in.

“Oh,” Dipper can’t help the bubbling sound that escapes him, practically pushed out of his chest. He hisses between his teeth, forehead leaning against the faucet, the sweat of his skin dotting the back of his neck before sliding to dangle at his Adam's apple. He swallows, and the sweat flicks off.

“Mmm, look at that; your body opens up so easily for me.” Bill places a hand against the back of Dipper’s neck, using the grip- along with the hold he has on his bound wrists- to lead further in. His Pinetree’s just so tight. It’s almost painful, looking down and seeing the hot stretch that surrounds him, trying desperately to suck him in. Bill rocks his hips and nearly loses himself to the high-pitch whine it drags out of Dipper. It’s fucking sinful, is what it is.

After what feels like forever, he bottoms out with a snap, feeling the body beneath him writhe, arms straining at his bound wrists, panting and shifting and suddenly so overwhelmed by the thick length nestled inside him; not pressing, but bumping close to where he actually wants it to hit. Dipper arches his spine, trying to move back on Bill’s cock, but the grip of his nape is firm, and when Bill pulls out, he pulls out slow.

“Bill-,” Dipper gasps, trying to turn from his own reflection to the demon behind him, but Bill’s grip is impossibly tight in his hair. He pushes back in, pulls out, and then snaps forward hard, making sure Dipper sees his own twisted expression.

“You're so good. Just a perfect little-.” Bill growls into his ear, bending forward to sink his teeth into the side of Dipper’s neck.

“Oh my god, please-.” The belt holding Dipper’s hands in place is starting to dig into his wrists, but it’s nothing compared to the painful throb of his cock; if he grinds forward, there’s nothing but smooth, unblemished marble, and if he grinds back-.

Bill’s no help, obviously.

“Everyone wants a piece of this, but only I can have it; isn’t that right?” Bill takes a second to himself to ease into a quick rhythm- Dipper pants and moves back on it, like he’ll die without it- before slowing down again. The sound his Pinetree makes-.

Dipper thinks he’s the one being tortured here; he has no idea the finesse that goes into Bill’s work.

“Fuck-. Bill, fuck me; fuck me, come on,” Dipper goes on to say, each word breathy, the hands behind his back clenching into tight fists. He’s shaking now- literally shaking- he feels light-headed at the angle he’s being fucked at, red-faced, and every last drop of blood directed towards his dick. It’s awful. It’s fantastic.

Bill lets go of his nape, sliding his hand instead around Dipper’s throat, pulling him up from his folded position so his chest is on full display; a long, taut stretch of Dipper’s stomach, his cock curved and aching with precum, and his knees buckling as Bill rocks into him. Dipper wants so badly to act in control, but right now, with the image he makes in the mirror, he’ll be lucky to walk away from this with even half his pride.

He doesn’t really care.

The hand around Dipper’s neck squeezes; there’s nowhere to look but ahead, and he sees himself, shivering, red from temple to thighs, practically splitting his lip open with how hard he’s biting down. Each slow, calculated rock works a muffled moan out of him, grinding against that really good spot, and he watches, mortified but entranced, as his face shifts into one he’s never seen before.

It’s one Bill’s seen a thousand times though, and at a thousand and one, still loses his composure. He snaps his hips once, stirring around to draw out yet another tight whine from his Pinetree, before deciding he’s played it slow long enough.

“Eyes on the price, sapling.” Bill directs Dipper’s gaze forward, starting up a brutal pace.

Dipper’s body convulses at the sudden speed, every muscle clenching up, chest heaving like it’s impossible to breath in his position, and a hand wrapped tight around his throat- it might actually be hard to breath, but that’s the least of his worries now. 

Bill’s cock drags mercilessly over his prostate, trailing over and over again (if he was trying to drive Dipper insane, this would be the way to do it). With the grip Bill has on him, squeezing but not choking, arms behind his back, Dipper can hardly shift around, let alone angle, just having to take the long, invasive strokes as they come.

“Bill, Bill, Bill-,” Dipper starts to chant, head falling back on the demon’s shoulder as the building pressure inside him becomes unbearable. He feels it right through his cock, zapping electricity as his body braces for a release Bill’s yet to provide him. The hand around his throat tightens, and his head lifts from Bill’s shoulder.

Their reflection is obscene.

“See that?” Bill grits through his teeth, slamming into the body before him until Dipper’s practically impaled. He sucks in a hiss, taking the hand not around Dipper’s throat, and placing it at the human’s hip; moving him back on his cock with the glide of his wrist. “This is what I see; just you, completely gone, taking what I give you,” he breaths into Dipper’s ear, meeting his gaze in the mirror’s reflection.

Dipper’s mouth falls open with a moan, and Bill can’t help but smile at the sheer volume- that’s one way to get caught. The hand that’d been wrapped around his throat clamps tightly over his mouth, leaning them forward so one of Dipper’s legs ends up propped on the sink’s countertop, fucking into him with new-found vigor. Like this, Bill’s cock goes from sliding against him, to hitting with such accuracy, it nearly hurts.

Dipper cries out against Bill’s hand, straining against the belt, but it doesn’t budge. He stares wide-eyed at his reflection, and nearly comes when he notices the tears streaming down his own face.

Bill did say he’d make him cry, but this is so much more than what he thought he could handle.

“And you always look so grateful for my cock,” Bill purrs. His thrusts are becoming more erratic, but he keeps his eye on the mirror at all times. “Doesn’t take much-.” He hisses. “-To satisfy you. Not with a dick down your throat.”

Bill’s cock punches his prostate, and Dipper has to fight to keep up. The position they’re in now has him practically chest-to-chest with the mirror, shoving him up with every hard thrust from behind. Bill’s not letting up, regardless of the heavy puffing of his chest, eye lidded and glazed. If anything, it means he’s going harder, faster; fucking Dipper like he hates him, and Dipper loves that.

Bill takes the hand rocking Dipper’s hips, and moves it to the front, just above Dipper’s cock. There’s shifting around on Dipper’s end, bare interest when he sees those fingers, how close they are to brushing over him, how close he is to reaching his peak. His hips tilt up, trying to bump against them, but Bill lays the hand flat across Dipper’s stomach.

When Bill presses down with the ball of his palm, thank god for the hand over Dipper’s mouth. He actually squeals.

Oh god. Oh god.

Dipper can feel him there.

Inside, thrusting up, bare pressure behind the skin of his belly, and when Bill pushes against it, there’s a hot flash running all throughout his system. Bill is literally-. He’s-. He’s right there, and with the way Dipper’s stretched out, his back pressed into Bill’s chest, he can even see the slight dent created with each of the demon’s thrust. 

He’s so deep inside him.

He wants Dipper that much.

Dipper writhes, straining against the belt holding his arms back, coming with a long whale while his body shakes at the intense throb of his cock. His hips buck out at the continual assault of his prostate, huffing and breathing; it lasts longer than he’s sure is normal. Once the climax subsides, he goes completely limp, just leaning into the thrusts with weak little wimpers.

“So hot, just so-. Fuck,” Bill bites, shooting into Dipper at the sight of his climax. Dipper lets out a small whine, his spent cock jumping uselessly. The demon rocks his hips forward, milking his finish for everything it’s worth.

They stay like that for a while, both puffing, sweaty, looking over each other like they’re some new discoveries. Bill slides out after a moment, working to undo the constraint of Dipper’s wrists.

“In case you couldn’t tell, that was meant to boost your ego,” Bill huffs a laugh, slipping the leather off. Dipper’s hands spring out from either side, rotating round at the tight feeling locking either wrist up.

“Hmm,” Dipper hums, sliding his eyes shut, completely exhausted. He sets his arms out in front of him, and they jitter. Okay. That was-. 

Wow.

He opens his eyes again, and stares at himself. A lip curls in before sliding back out. Leaning off the sink’s countertop, Dipper can’t help but notice the yellowing bruise left on his waist from Bill’s tight grip, the bite mark on his neck. He looks like a mess.

Bill seems to like that though, for whatever reason, and who’s Dipper to look a gift horse in the mouth? Regardless of how he feels, there’s at least one person who finds him attractive; that’s more than enough.

Dipper shrugs, a slight smile on his lips when Bill comes up from behind, wrapping his arms around the human’s waist. There’s a very good ache inside him. 

“You should go into motivational speaking,” he jokes. Bill laughs.

“You couldn’t pay me to fuck anyone else the way I fuck you; you’re spoiled as is,” he replies, placing a kiss against Dipper’s neck. It’s warm and soft. He leans into it, smiling.

“Good. I don’t want you to.” Dipper looks up at the demon and can’t help but snort into the kiss levied across his lips.

He pulls away, working to fasten his pants back around his waist; Pacifica’s probably wondering where they ran off to…

On second thought, she probably knows.

[jimilter]

riptide (m) | k.sj. | (1/2)

one | two

pairing:  kim seokjin x reader

rating:  m (18+)

genre:  angst | smut | established relationship!au

summary:  It takes a foolishly trivial incident to unravel how astonishingly little you and Seokjin actually understand each other. It has you questioning your relationship, and him? Well, he’s questioning his whole life.

warnings:  swearing + implied alcohol consumption + realistic relationship problems + mentions of insecurities, jealousy, complicated mental dispositions + emotional distress + sexual situations (unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talking, a bit of manhandling, fingering) + mentions of masturbation + a ton of miscommunication (refer to the summary smh)

word count: 12.3 k

note:  it’s FINALLY done, y’all! came up to be a monster of 25k words, so i decided to split it into two. i’ll drop the other part next week. this took a lot more time, energy and re-writing than i’d thought it would. i began writing this in january - it’s been five excruciating months! 😩 i really hope y'all will like this one~ 🥺💜

💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

riptide (n) – a dangerous area of strongly moving water in the sea, where two or more currents meet.

Lady, running down to the riptide - Taken away to the dark side - I wanna be your left hand man.

The turn of events has been so fucking hilariously impossible that Seokjin has literally been rendered speechless. Which doesn't happen often, mind you. What can he do, he is just extremely witty—he always has something to say about everything, usually and preferably with impeccable comic timing. Especially when it comes to you. 

This, though. This completely baffling scenario, right in front of him, has him gaping like a goldfish with no words to say.

"Final call, Jin. Gawk at me for five more seconds and I walk out of here," you threaten, an elegant arm poised at your waist and gorgeously plump lips pressed into a thin line. "Say something?"

And Seokjin still cannot formulate a single word, because what the actual fuck? How can you even think that he could ever— 

"Alright." You catwalk out of his bedroom, leaving him blinking into space.

He jumps the next second, leaping after you. "Honey! How would—what—I can never—why do I even have to say—will you wait? You’re being so ridiculous, right now, I hope you know that!"

If he wasn't in such a fix, Seokjin would physically cringe at his speech. It was better when he was just gaping.

“Honey! Stop being so overdramatic, you’ve known me and you’ve known Jimin! For years! Stop acting like you seriously don’t know what happened, here!”

You don't stop, though, gliding down the stairs and hopping over the haphazardly tossed items in the living room as you exit out of the house.

And then you're gone. You're really gone, over something so fucking ridiculous, that Seokjin still has no words to say.

All he knows is that his girlfriend of five years has finally gone crazy enough to jump to conclusions of such high magnitude of stupidity.

And, that Park Jimin is a dead man.

It all begins on an unsuspecting Sunday morning, when the entire house is smelling of weed, stale booze and some worse fluids. 

Last night, Seokjin vacated his own bedroom for the boys to smoke up in at Jimin's request, because that is the only well ventilated room of the house. He spent the night in Yoongi's room with earplugs in, dead to all the chaos in the house—as he often does on party nights—to catch up on his beauty sleep. He cannot afford any unbecoming dark circles or, God forbid, breakouts.

And no, that's not a comedic moment, he really does need his face looking perfect this week for reasons outside of personal gratification too, because he has a shoot on Tuesday. He especially took a leave from his part-time job at the Mexican restaurant downtown where his girlfriend, you, work full-time, on a Tuesday—saying goodbye to all the amazing tips always forwarded to the cooks on Taco Tuesday—for this. Nothing would mess up his face.

Not to mention that one very important audition for a very gigantic project he's been looking forward to. They're yet to announce the date, but it would be this very month. He hasn't really told you much about it, planning a huge surprise for later when—if, actually, but he prefers to be unrealistically optimistic in every situation possible—he bags the coveted position, at the end. He hasn't really decided upon much, other than a long drive and a picnic date to one of those grasslands on the city's outskirts that you love so much. Oh, and bringing up the prospect of moving in together in an apartment with just the two of you. 

He's pretty certain you must not remember him raving about the opportunity, because it has been months since he did that. He then proceeded to be covert about all the mini auditions and trainings he underwent to prepare for the final audition, and he is confident you have not connected the dots.

But that is all a discussion for later — he doesn't even know when he would be auditioning. 

The crux of the whole matter is that he needs to keep looking as flawless as he can until that audition happens.

So he has slept like a baby, last night, while the rest of his friends have partied, including two out of three of his housemates—Hoseok and Jimin—along with Taehyung and Taehyung's girl. Namjoon had foregone attendance in lieu of the Halloween party, next weekend, that he knows he would definitely be forced to attend because Hoseok is hosting. Yoongi, his third and final housemate, escaped the house altogether to spend a night of music-making with Jungkook in his dorm.

So, in the morning, when Seokjin is moving around his kitchen that seems to have been hit by a tornado, checking the fridge and mentally praying that his baggie of smoothie ingredients is still in good shape—a scream echoes around the house.

Seokjin freezes. That sounded a lot like…you.

Immediately alert, he runs out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. Hoseok is hanging upside down on one of the couches, something that looks a lot like undigested white sauce pasta puddles on the ground, inches from his new, fiery red hair. Seokjin grimaces.

"Kim Seokjin!" your screech tears the silence.

Seokjin twists on his heels, looking up in the direction of his bedroom. It really is you. And you're in his bedroom—the room he did not occupy last night.

God only knows what kind of a scene you have walked in on. He hopes these idiots didn’t have an orgy up there, although he really can’t put it past them.

Not waiting another second, Seokjin rushes up the stairs and pushes through the doors to his bedroom. His mouth falls open on an audible gasp.

You stand next to his bed, dressed up elegantly in a navy dress that ends above your knees—which makes him wonder if you are here for an impromptu breakfast date—with one hand clutching his duvet that has uncovered what looks like…

…a head of long, dirty blonde hair.

Who the fuck?

In his bed?

"Hey, Honey!" Seokjin's voice is a squeak. "You… you here for a date?" he manages out of a suddenly parched throat.

You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. A fact you would've known if you looked at the texts I sent you last night." Your eyes are narrow at him. "This explains why you didn't, though. Busy night, Jin?" 

He balks at your words, at a loss. How could you even think it was him, when you know all about Park Jimin and his escapades?! 

Seokjin's blood boils. Fucking Jimin. There is going to be blood on Seokjin’s hands. 

In the midst of it, the blonde head shifts. 

Soon after, as you two watch, a pair of brown eyes with smudged makeup emerge from inside Seokjin's bed—and the audacity?! There’s makeup all over his covers! Jimin will pay for the dry cleaning. The face is followed by a whole, tiny woman of five-something feet who is, thankfully, covered in a shirt.

Seokjin is almost not breathing when the blonde starts to give him a dreamy smile, his gaze switching between her and you. And it’s extremely stupid, because he hasn’t seen this woman before, ever, in his entire life. But he catches the way your arms fall to your sides and those elegant, dainty fingers of yours ball up into fists as you look at the blondie’s face.

Fortunately, the girl recognises him at last before her grin could turn fully dopey, and with a squeak, jumps out of the bed. “You’re not—um. Hi. Sorry, I, uh. I’ll get going.”

And surprisingly, she does exactly that in less than a minute, leaving you to stare down at Seokjin.

“You know, it’s really unbecoming for a girlfriend to keep finding girls in her boyfriend’s bed every other week and not be given an explanation, ever.” Your tone is teasing, but your eyes are taunting. “You shouldn’t always be so dismissive, you know? What if I start getting ideas? I don’t think you even remember how to make up with your girlfriend, at this point, because I never fight.”

That is when Seokjin starts gawking. And literally doesn’t stop until you’ve left the house.

“I don’t get it,” Jackson says, stuffing cold noodles into his mouth and chewing on them without closing it. “Do you think he cheated on you, or do you not think he cheated on you?”

You look at your best friend with your face twisted up in disgust. You swear to God you would never have agreed to make friends with this guy on your mother’s insistence when the Wang family moved in next doors to you, had you known he’d turn out to be such a barbarian a decade later. Twelve-year-old Jackson had been such a decent kid—studious, elegant, well-mannered. What went wrong, along the way?

You exhale, shifting on your chair, very wary of any dried up fluids that you might come in contact with. “I know he did not cheat on me, Jax, the very notion is completely ridiculous.”

Jackson stops chewing and looks away from the WWE match playing on the TV to squint at you. “I’m…confused? Wait. What is the problem, then? What are you mad at him for?”

To be completely honest, you aren’t quite certain yourself.

But you do know that you don’t feel good. And that this feeling has been building up over a couple months, but you have only really acknowledged it head-on, today, in all five-something years of your relationship. Five years, seven months and eight days, to be exact, but that’s kinda besides the point.

You’ve had at least a few months’ worth of buildup that has gotten you to this point, you would admit. Especially after Seokjin had to cancel that visit to your hometown at the end of June, for your parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration because he had an important audition for a big-brand ad film. The cancellation was acceptable, but his offhand comment that, “thirty-five isn’t even that special, we’ll get them a huge gift for their fiftieth,” stayed with you longer than it should’ve. Things got okay-ish when you reminded yourself how Seokjin never really thought too hard about things he said, always being a humorous, unattached clown in every situation. But this morning's dismissal has pushed you over that edge. You straightaway goaded him, claiming he doesn’t remember how to make it up to you, and all you got in response was his shock and being called “ridiculous” and “overdramatic.” Fun.

You were most certainly joking, if a bit caustically, when you said what you did. He could have taken it as a joke and laughed it off. He could have taken it as a threat and comforted you, said it was Jimin that used his room, and maybe kissed you. You already knew what had happened when you saw the girl, anyway. But this was probably the third time this situation had happened, this month. 

Sure, you are understanding and really do know Jimin and what all he gets up to, but is that really supposed to be such a given? Asking your boyfriend to hug you close and kiss your forehead when you discover a girl in his bed just as you were about to cuddle the lump of sheets thinking it was him, is not too much to expect, is it?

Granted, Seokjin has never been extremely expressive, but still. It feels like he’s consciously trying to keep you at a distance, these past few months.

You don’t have the complete grasp of the storm of thoughts in your head yet, but you want to try and explain it to Jackson the best you can. 

“It was about respect, in a way, I guess,” you quietly mumble, and Jackson turns the TV off, now sitting cross legged on the couch to face your chair. He puts away his takeout container to frown at you, probably gleaning how serious this is for you. “He stood there, without saying a single word, expecting me to stop being mad. Almost willing me to stop being mad by making these big, incredulous eyes at me. Like it was that horrible of his girlfriend to demand for an explanation when she found a girl in his bedroom. It was just the two of us, I wasn’t making a scene in front of anybody. He just—ugh! He could’ve simply asked me to not be mad, said it was Jimin who spent the night in the room and maybe even laughed about it, or plotted Jimin’s murder—I would’ve joined in—but no. He acted like I was being stupid, told me not be ridiculous and dramatic. And that made me feel really stupid.”

Jackson winces. “And why do you think you were not being stupid?”

You exhale. “I wasn’t. Because I wasn’t actually accusing him of anything, and five years down the lane, he should know that now. I just wanted him to say it and not scold me when I tease-taunted him. He always expects me to know everything. And even though I always do, it gets tiring sometimes. These weird thoughts get to you — that maybe you’re being too understanding and he’s using that to his advantage, you know?” You look down at your lap, playing with your nails. “It’s just…um. I wanted him to coddle me, I guess. To treat this as something big because I was throwing a tantrum about it and, just, I don’t know—try to cajole me? Assuage me with his words, maybe? But he didn’t. Because he hasn’t done that in forever. Because I never need him to, because I always freaking understand everything!” A sob leaves you.

Jackson pats the place next to him. “C’mere, you dumdum, and stop hyperventilating,” he mumbles, hugging you to his side when you move to sit on the couch. “I don’t exactly understand how the relationship dynamics work, but from what you told me, I get that you wanted attention? Some loving? And instead you got disappointed looks because Jin expected you to be mature and rational about it — the way you always are — and that too with his fucking eyes and some low-key insult words? Is it something like that?”

Wow, Jackson really paraphrased all that amazingly. “Yes, actually. It’s exactly that.”

Jackson sighs. “Y’all have been together a long time, babe, so I guess it’s kind of a given that you’d get to a no-bullshit point. Which is why he hasn’t done that in forever, because y’all probably don’t need that kinda stuff between you anymore.”

“I get that, it’s how a relationship matures. But I’m pretty certain that it’s not supposed to make me feel like this,” you sound slightly muffled, having stuffed your face into Jackson’s hoodie-covered chest. “I feel—I feel like we got too comfortable and now he’s just started to take me for granted. And I also feel like I’m being too needy. Am I being needy and annoying? He’d hate me if I told him all this, won’t he? Half of the reason we’ve worked out so well is because we’re both career oriented and don’t waste time overthinking stupid shit.” You gasp. “Oh, no—would he leave me? He’s used to his girlfriend being mature, not needy—”

You are cut off when Jackson pulls you away by your shoulders, giving you a serious look. “Wait, wait, stop. What did you say? Not the needy part, you’re allowed to be needy once in all the damn three-sixty-five days y’all stay busy for. The…taking you for granted part. Pretty big of a thing to say, babe.”

You sigh. “We haven’t been on an actual date in months. Seokjin thinks there’s no need for that extra effort when we spend lunch breaks at work together, everyday. Outside of the restaurant, our meetings involve our entire flock of friends by default. It’s been three months since we slept together.” You sniff, hating having to impart such a private detail of your life. “So no, I don’t think it’s that big of a thing to say, at all.”

“Wow.” Jackson gives a slow whistle. “You’ve really been bottling up a lot in there, huh?”

You shrug. “I guess. It never made me feel underappreciated, though. Sure, I was irritated at some occasions and disappointed at others, but… Today I feel horrible, Jax.”

“Did you share anything with Byulyi?” he asks, referring to your flatmate and good friend since college.

You shake your head. “She already has a lot on her plate, right now. She got rejected by the photographer she wanted to intern with, so it’s back to freelancing for her.”

“Yeah, that must suck.” Jackson grimaces. Then he looks at you. “You need to take a break, hun. Sit back, today, and have tacos and beer with me. Reset your inner thoughts. Talk to Jin tomorrow. Although, I must say, it’s kinda depressing that you have to actually tell your boyfriend that he’s being a bad boyfriend. Isn’t that kind of shit supposed to be realized on your own?”

You purse your lips. “I guess, yeah. But…don’t say that he’s being a bad boyfriend, Jax. I don’t think he even realizes something is wrong.”

“And that…doesn’t make it worse?” At your raised eyebrows, he concedes with a roll of his eyes. “Fine, fine, in any case — maybe try to hint at it before you dive straight in with the kill? See if he reacts?”

“I don’t know, Jax. What if he doesn’t? He’s really not the best at taking hints and reading signs, or that kind of subtle stuff.”

“Then you can just say your shit. All I’m saying is, give him a chance to figure it out on his own. He’s probably really clueless why you reacted so big on something so small, this morning. If you drop hints, maybe he’ll feel it out.”

You nod, somewhat amazed at how sound Jackson’s advice seems. “How are you doing this, Jax? Being a love guru all of a sudden?”

Jackson scoffs. “I’m just tryna put myself in Seokjin’s shoes. If I was in the situation he’s in, this is what I’d like to happen — be given a window to figure out what’s wrong. You’ve been together a long time, hun. It really shouldn’t be that difficult for him.”

You shrug a shoulder. “I won’t be too sure about that. Why does it even matter if he can or cannot, though?”

Jackson seems to be mulling over something before he drops his chin to his chest. “Because you’re supposed to be partners, hun. If you can tell what’s up with him with a single glance, why can't he? Not being good at taking signs is not a good enough excuse. My gut says that he’d be able to, though. And that knowledge will make you feel infinitely better, trust me. It’ll be reassuring to learn that he really knows and understands you well, won’t it?”

You nod, slowly, but you still have your suspicions. Seokjin has just been the kind of guy whose emotional depth goes to a certain extent and then just — well, stops. There are things that he feels and realizes and sees, and there are things that he doesn’t. It isn’t even something he does, you believe. It’s just how he is. Certain feelings just don’t fall in his orbit. And you’ve never found there to be anything wrong with it when he’s been an immaculately amazing boyfriend and tended to every single one of your needs, always. Well, you have never actually needed emotional consoling, too, so you haven’t had the chance to audition him for that. You keep yourself too busy for all that unnecessary mental pressure. It comes as a surprise, but you have never cried on Seokjin’s shoulder in all these years of your togetherness. You’ve kept your head straight and chin up, even during your college exams. And so has Seokjin, because you’ve never seen him cry, either.

Lately, though, things have been kind of weird. The gradual transformation into your professional lives that began after college, has been drastic in the past few months. Seokjin has been constantly prioritizing his career over you, and you have been understanding about it because you agree with it — to an extent. Seokjin believes it all the way through, though, and you have known for a while that you would hit your limit at some point, and would try to bring him back to yourself. Today morning, it seems, you hit that limit. 

You felt dispensable. 

You hate this feeling.

To be very honest, you know you can get over this. You can give it some time, remind yourself of how much your Jin loves you, believe that he is eventually going to come back to you once he settles, and be understanding about the entire thing. 

You can — but you really don’t want to.

Something tells you that this feeling of getting too comfortable will only fester and take a worse form as time goes by. You can wait it out, sure, and hope you aren’t being a pushover as he works on building his career. You are building your career, too, after all, and at least some of it has been for each other. 

The thing is, your plans with Seokjin are long-term—marriage, kids, white-picket fence, and all that. And you believe that if you are sensing a problem now, you better deal with it now before it has the chance to change its form and affect you both when you are at a more responsible point in your life.

Mind made up, you look up at Jackson, immediately grimacing when he forwards a greasy hand to pick up a taco for you. “I don’t…I don’t like tacos. And may I exchange the beer for scotch?”

“You work at a Mexican restaurant, and you don’t like tacos,” Jackson deadpans.

“They mess up my skincare.”

“Oh, fuck off! Have a spinach smoothie with a drink, why don’t you?”

You purse your lips to hold back your laughter at his ire, your own worries forgotten in the moment as Jackson gets up to get you a glass of scotch and some healthier snacking alternative.

“You're a dead man.”

Jimin stops dead in his tracks, arms frozen in the act of putting a t-shirt on. He blinks at Seokjin with big round eyes. “Hyung?” he mumbles, a picture of unblemished innocence, especially when he covers his toned torso with the oversized t-shirt he was in the process of getting into. “What—what’d I do?”

Someone who doesn’t know better would never believe that this young, innocent, frazzled haired fairy-boy could ever do any wrong. But Seokjin knows better. “You chaotic womanizer,” Seokjin nearly hisses, "you've gotta learn to clean after yourself. Honey found a girl in my bed. A girl—in my bed.”

Jimin had the decency to drop the innocent act. “Oh. Oh.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “Oh? That’s it?”

"Yeah, well, I clarified to her that it was a one time thing when we got to it. She was obviously expecting something more if she didn't leave when I told her to. Disappointed but not surprised." Jimin is frowning when he comes to sit down on the couch next to Seokjin. “Sorry you two had to see that. You clarified to Honey noona that I’d been the occupant of the room, though, right?” 

“I—what?” Seokjin scoffs. “Why would I even need to do that? She knows that already, obviously. She’s been seeing you for over five years, or have you forgotten?”

Jimin squints. “I mean…okay, fair point, I guess. Why’re you so worked up, then? Did something else happen, too? Where’s she, now?” Jimin looks around the living room as if looking for you.

Seokjin sighs. “Well, I couldn't really get much out before she was storming out of the damn house, altogether.”

Jimin blinks. “Storming out? Why? She… um, was she mad?"

Seokjin opens his mouth – and then shuts it. Was she mad, indeed. "I don't know. She looked kinda mad, yes. But maybe she was in a hurry?" 

"Why would she be mad? Did you try to call her? Text her? It's unlike her to react so big on something so small." Jimin bites down on his lip, looking lost in thought. 

Seokjin shakes his head. "She didn't pick up or text back."

“There’s definitely got to be an underlying reason for her being like this. Are you sure you guys haven’t been fighting, hyung?” 

Seokjin sighs. “Yes, Jimin, I’m absolutely certain that there hasn’t been any fighting of any sorts between the two of us before today.” He pauses. “Well, she was slightly irritated that I didn’t check her texts last night, but she knows I go to bed at eleven on days leading up to a shoot, so that one’s on her.”

Jimin looks genuinely concerned, which, in turn, makes Seokjin concerned. Jimin isn't the type to stress over stuff if he can help it. Sure, he cares about the boys and would always be down to do whatever he can for them, but his throwing-caution-to-the-wind way of life causes him to not take most of the things in life seriously.

You’ve been like an older sister to the boys ever since Seokjin started dating you and introduced you to them. They all have their ways of showing their respect and affection to you. Well, maybe not Jungkook because he can’t get over getting unnecessarily intimidated by Seokjin enough to relax around you. 

Jimin, especially, always seems to be affected by any tension in Seokjin’s relationship. Everyone can see how it upsets his entire life when you two are fighting, although he’d never admit to it. He doesn’t need to, because it’s pretty obvious when he becomes a cranky six-year-old who hates the world. 

Right now, he has a guilty frown on his face. "I should've seen to it that Suzette left before I went to shower," he mumbles as if talking to himself. “Shouldn’t have trusted her to leave just because I told her to.” He looks up at Seokjin with troubled eyes. "I'm sorry, hyung."

Seokjin can not believe himself when he shakes his head at Jimin's apology—this little demon causes so much chaos in all their lives that any apology coming from him should be justified and welcome. But this one isn't really on him. "It's not entirely your fault."

Jimin's demeanor changes a bit and the attitude Seokjin is used to witnessing makes an appearance. "Right? That's what I was thinking, too!" Jimin exclaims, some of the concern on his face lifting. "You have to talk to Honey noona and make things right, though, hyung. She’s the only womanly touch in our man cave. We’d all be barbarians without her.” Jimin looks very wary and kind of nervous.

“It’s funny you would crave her ‘womanly’ presence when she’s rushed off because of a woman that you brought home.” Seokjin scrunches his nose. "And I said it isn't entirely on you, because it is partially on you, Park Jimin. You borrowed my room to smoke up in. Why couldn't you take your Suzy back to your own room?"

"Suzette," Jimin corrects under his breath while shaking his head. "Yeah, I should've, but… your room just felt like a better choice during the high," he finishes in a mumble, dragging a hand down his face. “Hyung,” Jimin says with a pout on his lips, “the last time you two fought was two years ago, remember? On your birthday? When Hobi hyung dumped cake in noona’s hair and she had her first shoot for that bigshot magazine, the next day?”

Seokjin nods with a sigh. “She yelled at me for having stupid friends, and I yelled at her for caring more about the shoot that having a good time on my birthday. Yes, I remember.”

“And then she didn’t visit us for a whole week. Please don’t let that happen, again.” Jimin looks up at Seokjin with big, round eyes. “I can’t take that kind of unrest in my life."

Seokjin briefly wonders, if Jimin’s nightly conquests were to see this side of him, would they run in the opposite direction or be more attracted to him? Jimin definitely needs someone in his life that would bring out this side in him and stay to provide him the emotional comfort he requires when he gets like this. 

“I will try not to, Jiminie, but…” Seokjin shuts his eyes. “I seriously do not understand her actions from the morning,” he finishes in a mumble.

“Maybe she’s—maybe she’s worried about something else? Some other aspect of her life?” Jimin suggests with wide eyes. “And she’s just projecting onto you.”

“As sound as the explanation is, I am literally involved in ninety percent of the aspects in her life,” Seokjin says with a twist to his lips. “I would know if something was wrong anywhere.”

“That’s cocky of you to say,” Jimin snarkily comments with narrowed eyes. At Seokjin’s raised eyebrows, he amends, “That’s cocky of you to say, hyung-nim.”

Seokjin scoffs, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s true. We work at the same restaurant, we’re scouted by the same agency. Even her agent is best friends with mine—she gossips a ton about how Honey passes up so many opportunities and pisses her agent off. Her friends are, well—” Seokjin stops short when it hits him. “Wang. Wang could know something!”

Jimin is looking at him skeptically when Seokjin meets the younger’s eyes. “I just think you should have a simple talk with noona first before digging around.”

That is sensible advice. Seokjin nods as he pulls his phone out.

“Just find out what’s been troubling her, hyung. You two are rational people, I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Jimin pauses to scratch the back of his head. “Just please don’t let this be another fight like that one?”

“Don’t worry,” Seokjin finally says with a pat on Jimin’s shoulder as he finishes sending off another text to you, “this one is nothing like that fight.”

Turns out, this fight really is not like that one. Or any other fights Seokjin has ever had with you, in fact, because you’re giving him the silent treatment. 

You’ve never given him the silent treatment. 

Not even when you were students and didn’t have a load of time on your hands and used to waste precious sleep hours arguing over stupid shit that would probably resolve itself if you just slept on it and looked back at it with a fresh state of mind. Not even then did you forego talking.

Needless to say, Seokjin is distressed.

You drive to the house to pick him up at your usual time, the next morning, after not having responded to any of his calls or texts for the entire day. Seokjin is aghast as he gets into the car.

“Honey! What is going on? Why didn’t you—where have you been?”

You simply start the engine and take off. “Busy,” you murmur after a while.

Soekjin’s head is close to exploding. “Busy? Doing what?”

Your face remains stoic as you weave through the morning traffic. Seokjin looks at you. You’re dressed up in your waitressing outfit that consists of a shirt, skirt and tights, and being who you are, Seokjin can proudly say that you would stand out to be the most well dressed server in the field. You’re always pristine and tidy — no accidents happen to you at the job ever. No spillage of drinks or ketchups, no soiled hands being wiped down on your skirt. Nothing even ruins your manicure. 

It is something that Seokjin has always tried to keep up with, this cleanliness streak of yours. Because he has always assumed you would expect it out of him, too. You were attracted to the cover model version of him, after all. It is quite natural that you would have those kinds of expectations. And Seokjin has always been more than happy to deliver. It has become a part of him, in fact. He doesn't even chew with his mouth open even when he's among the boys, anymore.

It has, somewhat, made him practical and less emotional in life, too, but he doesn't really think of it as a bad thing. You have always been practical in life – the most ambitious girl he has ever met, someone that has always prioritized her career and goals over everything else. Seokjin has admired that since college, and has tried to show you that he has similar priorities even if he has had to work on thinking from his mind more than his heart.

But when you are already by his side, what does he even need his heart for, anymore, when it's already yours?

Now, looking at you sitting with a morose expression on your face as you give him the cold shoulder, Seokjin is just as much in love with you as he was when he first met you.

“Stuff,” you say with a shrug, after some extended silence. “You should know about that, right? Your schedule’s always busier than mine and I never complain.”

Your sharp words have him reeling. Whatever do you even mean by that? “Uhm, okay. Fair enough. But… did you really not have the time to respond to a single text?”

“It gets impossible sometimes, Jin, you know how it is.”

Seokjin frowns. He does know that, but he doesn’t feel okay. Something is very off with you. It is as if you’re saying something else and expecting him to discern a different meaning out of it. 

He doesn’t understand why, though. You, of all people, should know how terrible he is at decoding signs.

He sighs.

Seokjin, after his conversation with Jimin yesterday, had decided to ask you about the morning’s incident, head on, whenever you called him back. But you didn’t, and this is the first opportunity he’s had to talk to you, so he decides to bring it up, now. “What—what happened yesterday morning, babe? You got really mad and stormed off, and… I mean, you’ve got to know the girl had been Jimin’s companion for the night, right? You know him, how he is!”

You say nothing, hands tightening a bit on the steering wheel. Seokjin looks down at his own hands.

“You know I was only surprised at your words because we really do not have the time to be discussing silly things." He shuts his heart down when it tries to tell him to go soft. He knows it isn't something you would appreciate. "After five years, you know what I’m capable of right? You can never start getting ideas, because that would be insane and stupid. I’m already so supremely occupied as it is between two jobs, when would I even have the time to cheat, right?” he jokes, snorting to himself.

You’re still quiet, but your tongue comes out to moisten your lips. It is a nervous tick of yours which Seokjin recognizes very well, because with your skincare and scheduled regular application of lip balms, your lips never need the extra moisture.

He frowns. Was he too straightforward? But this is exactly how you communicate with him! “Hey, is everything okay, babe?”

You exhale, noisily. “Everything’s fine, Jin,” you finally say with a roll of your eyes. “And you’re right. I know you wouldn’t cheat. You don’t have the time to chat me up, how are you gonna pick someone new to impress, huh?” 

Your snort sounds lacking in humor, but Seokjin still gives a couple of stilted chuckles. Even so, he's still somewhat relieved. “Right. Just so we’re certain, that was a joke, right? I mean, it would be really ridiculous of you to think that I would—”

“Yes, Jin!” you cut him off with a deep frown. “If I wanted to talk to you about something, or accuse you, or confront you — I’d do that without you having to prompt me. Stop obsessing over yesterday and stop trying to explain yourself. I know it was Jimin’s doing.”

Seokjin feels immensely relaxed at the conviction with which you say the last sentence, certainly, but something is still off. “Why were you ignoring me, then?”

“I just didn’t have anything to say to you.” You stop at a red light, the last one before you reach the restaurant, and turn to look at Seokjin with really vacant eyes. He doesn’t like your stare one bit. “We’ve been together five years, babe. If neither of us have got anything of significance to say, I’d rather not text too much, if that’s okay with you? I’ve got a busy schedule to work around, too, you know?”

Seokjin wants to remind you that both of you had something of significance to say after you left his place in anger, but chooses to just roll with whatever you’re playing at. Maybe he's thinking too much. He nods. “Sounds alright to me.”

“Great,” you breathe out, somehow looking disappointed along with the preexisting sorrowful expression you had on your face.

You really do not have a concrete explanation for why you acted the way you did with Seokjin, this morning. 

You were supposed to hint at being mad, not blatantly try to give him a taste of his own medicine. It could turn out to be a good thing if he eventually starts to miss you and reaches out, sure, but playing mind games never feels right to you. But when he started to joke about not having time to cheat, and something just turned off in you. He really could’ve seriously reassured you of his love. That would’ve been actually comforting. But no. He chose to joke about that, too. You didn’t feel like putting in all that energy anymore, after that.

Now, you sit down in the break room to check your phone during your ten minutes’ rest break. A text message floats at the top of your notifications.

Jax 🚽 Hey How’d it go?

With an exhale, you decide to call him back. Your fingers are too tired to type, and Jackson is sure to launch off into a rampage of texts the moment you tell him you’ve tried to turn the tables on Seokjin.

Seokjin is in the kitchen, his usual rest break not being for another hour, so you don’t have to worry about him walking in.

“Hey!” Jackson jovially greets you as soon as he picks the phone. “Did you get my text?”

“I did, yes,” you respond in a calm voice. “I’ve been looping milkshake mugs through my fingers since eight am, they needed some rest, so I decided to call.”

“Yeah, no, it’s cool. I was in a really boring class, anyway. So. How'd it go?"

You pull in your lip between your teeth. "I… I kinda ended up telling him I am a busy person too and that we shouldn’t text that much."

You hear silence instead of the outburst you'd expected. 

"Jax?"

"Are you actually gonna try to play a mind game with the dumbest human being you know on earth?" Jackson so very eloquently asks, his interpretation making you pinch the bridge of your nose. “He’s never even gonna figure it out!”

“I know how it sounds, okay?” You exhale. “I honestly don’t know what came over me.”

“Okay, alright, one thing at a time. So, no coddling?"

"Not a single soft word. Just more expectations of me understanding, and claiming that anything but that would be stupid of me. He acts like I'm supposed to know everything about him and everyone in his group of friends," you mutter in irritation. “As if those dumbasses know the first thing about themselves.”

You realize you're being a bit harsh, because his friends – basically your younger brothers, at this point – are a bunch of clueless idiots that love, adore and respect you. You shouldn't be badmouthing them, Seokjin’s growing callousness towards you isn't their doing. It's his own. 

You sigh. You really miss how things used to be when you were in college.

“Uh, I think we need to rewind a bit. What happened? What triggered this?”

It makes you smile a little when Jackson asks that. At least your best knows you’re not wholly clinically insane. “Well… I drove him to work. He…" your brows lower at the recollection, "he was the first to bring up yesterday morning. And yet again, he gave me the same you've got to know this and that crap, and then he tried to assure me in the dumbest possible way. Do you know what he said, Jax, do you?”

“Um, do I wanna know?”

“He said, and I quote, he doesn’t have the time to cheat. Jackson Wang, are you hearing this? He really straight up said he was too busy to cheat on me and so I should rest assured! Who says that?!”

“He must’ve meant it as a joke—”

“Yeah, he said that, too, and then very immaculately added that it’d be ridiculous of me to think otherwise. I have lost count of how many times the words ridiculous and stupid came up.”

“Goddammit.”

“Goddammit is right,” you mumble, morosely resting your head on your palm.

“What did he say, by the way? When you told him to text less?”

You give a wry chuckle. "Well, he said it sounded alright to him."

"Son of a bitch. You – you two are messed up, man. Messed up bad. Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't? You don't wanna text less because you're busy, you want him to dote on you because you miss him!" Jackson sounds beyond frustrated. "And it doesn't fucking sound alright to him! It sounds scary, it sounds confusing, it sounds like something you would never say to him!" He groans. "But none of you would say that shit to each other! You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess."

You reel from the onslaught of his harsh words, eyes widened and breath stuttering. Jackson isn't usually the type to pay so much attention to your relationship problems. But this time, you guess, he has garnered the depth of your unhappiness and thus has gotten so involved.

You realize he is right. Nothing good can come out of any turned tables, because Seokjin is, anyways, not even going to be able to work out the problem by himself. He may even go around talking to his friends about how you were being cold with him and not giving him any time, and still not realize he has been doing the same to you. He is thick like that. 

When his friends tell you tales of his compassion, you're unable to relate. You've never seen that side of him. He has probably grown up from that emotionally overwhelmed high school graduate who had made friends on a whim, the night of his graduation.

You certainly don't appreciate the emotional abstinence, though, and would very much rather prefer if he would open up a bit more. It would help you be more open with him, without fearing him calling you "stupid" in response.

But it’s still alright, you accept him with that thick brain of his, because he’s still only ever going to be the only one for you.

"How are you two gonna get around to having a proper chat if you just keep building more walls between you both?" Jackson asks after the long pause from your end, this time softer. “I’m sorry, babe, I was wrong. Giving him signs and making him realize shit won’t work. It was stupid of me to suggest that. It’s probably why you ended up being so caustic with him.

“No, no, it was all me, Jax. I could’ve chosen to not listen to you, but my ego got in the way, I guess. It’s not exactly easy, telling your boyfriend you’re feeling neglected. I mean, what if he laughs in my face and tells me I’m being paranoid? What if he thinks I have no regard for his career — or mine — because my priorities don’t align with his?” You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as your insecurities attack you.

“Hey, no. None of that is gonna happen if you really share with him what you’ve been feeling. No hints, no sarcasm, you’re gonna have to tell him point blank. Allow yourself to be raw. He’s the love of your life. You don’t have to protect yourself from him, right?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I know. You’re absolutely right, Jax. But I really have no idea how to even approach him, at this point. He’s either too busy with shoots, or with the guys, or some meeting. I cannot do this on call, because that always leads to misunderstandings.” You bite down on your lower lip, contemplating. “But I’ll figure something out.”

"Yes, you will. You always do. So, that’s good then. In the meanwhile, can you at least clean up this latest pile of poop? The talking less thingy is gonna make you two more distant, hun."

You scrunch your nose at his metaphor, but then your shoulders slump. "I don't know, Jackson. The way he so impassively agreed to it would make me sound really stupid if I take it back. And given what he keeps saying, he really doesn’t want me to sound stupid."

Jackson gives a snort at that. “Hah, funny. But listen. At the end of the day, he’s your boyfriend. You're gonna have to really decide if you're trying to get your boyfriend to give you more love, or if you're fighting a battle of egos and would like to bend him to you."

You bite your lip. “You make me sound manipulative.”

“You yourself confessed you let your ego come into this, one time. Don’t let that happen again. I’m trying to make you realize that complicated problems can have simple solutions, too. If only you’d communicate. Just talk to him soon, please, and make him understand why you’re hurt. Don’t carry on with this stupid cold war, okay? You gotta figure out exactly what you want, first.”

“You know what I want, Jax. You’re literally the only person that does, actually,” you remind him with a sigh.

“Oh, he is, isn’t he?”

You freeze, eyes bulging at the familiar voice. “I’ll… I’ll call you back,” you mumble before you disconnect the call and turn to look over your shoulder at Seokjin’s unreadable face. He stands with his arms crossed, still in his uniform but without the apron. “Jin… what—uh…”

“What am I doing here?” he scoffs, lips curling in distaste as he stares you down. “Well, I was going to the loo when I saw you sitting here. You looked upset, so I thought I’d check in on you on my way back.” He clicks his tongue, a dry chuckle tumbling out. “But apparently, you’ve got other people doing it for you, already.”

You wince, shutting your eyes. The one time he was finally going to give you some much needed attention — you sent a bad message his way. 

“So. Good to know there actually is someone who knows what you want. Would’ve been easier if it were me, though, given how I stand to be the one that is to deliver.” Seokjin sounds pissed off, and despite your irritation, you really want to make him understand.

You rub at your forehead. “Stop talking like that, Jin, it was just Jackson.”

“Wang?” He seems to seethe more, for some reason. “Of course, it’s fucking Wang!”

You frown, standing up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Seokjin looks at you incredulously. “You—do you not see how this looks? You have problems with me, Honey, but you choose to discuss them with him? Who’s he, your therapist?”

“He’s my best friend, Jin, someone I trust,” you grit out.

Seokjin seems to take it the wrong way, his agitated expressions slowly fading into a blank stare. “Oh. You trust him, as opposed to…” He trails off with a shrug, but the implication is as obvious as it can be.

“Jin—”

He raises a hand up, palm facing you as he looks away. “If you need some time apart, you should tell me in plain words. You know I’m not good at reading signs.”

Seokjin gives you a blank stare before turning around to leave the area. You stand rooted to your place, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

Some time apart? Has he lost his mind? 

He really is a huge freaking idiot who cannot pause to think what implications his words have. He seriously doesn’t recognize what all his “don’t be ridiculous/overdramatic/stupid” speeches do to you. You realize you should really make him understand. This has gone on for way too long.

But maybe you should take some time to yourself to cool off before that. You don’t want to say the wrong thing in your rage and complicate things further.

You sigh to yourself as you slump back into the bench you were sat on before.

You’d set out to tell your boyfriend you were feeling neglected, but you ended up making him think you want to be apart. How the heck did you get here?

You belatedly recall Jackson's words.

Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't?

You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess.

Your usually dumbheaded best friend was right on this one, you realize. You should’ve just talked like a normal human being instead of letting Seokjin’s words get to you and get pissy in retaliation.

You give a weary sigh. 

Seokjin is grateful for the sudden busyness he’s got on his schedule, or he would explode from all the pent up frustration you have been causing him. 

He realized he wasn’t as upset with you as he was irritated, right after he walked away from you on Monday. He dropped you a text with some excuse of needing to stay back so that he wasn’t forced to ride with you in the car again, and later took the bus home. 

You had told Jackson Wang about what was troubling you, but not him. It made Seokjin feel upset, incompetent and more than a little insecure. Seokjin absolutely hates feeling insecure. Especially about you. You’re the singular most precious entity in his life — not that you are an entity, per se — and anything that seeks to threaten your position in his life or his position in yours, makes him lose his shit.

So it was understandable that he jumped to unfairly disproportionate magnitudes of conclusions that day. When he thought about it, later, he could easily tell that you are just mad at him and not actually contemplating leaving him, not even for a little while. Not that he’d just sit back and have you do that so easily.

Seokjin also hates overthinking, but that is all he did for the entirety of his Monday. 

Monday, though, was the last time he had time to overthink. Life got exponentially busier after that.

Immediately after his shoot on Tuesday, he received his agent’s call and was informed of his jam packed schedule for the remainder of the week. He was pulled into two separate magazine ad shoots on Wednesday, a perfume ad film drank up all of his Thursday, and today, a hair product ad film needed him to report to a sunrise point in the city at the ass-crack of dawn. The sky was still dark when he rode across the city with his agent at nearly four in the morning. 

And now, the afternoon sun beats down on his car as he drives back alone, his agent staying back to tend to some business. Stopping at a red light, he reaches for his spinach smoothie with one hand and his phone with the other. Ugh, he feels beyond tired.

Blearily, he looks down at the device around a yawn, fingers habitually reaching for your chat.

He took a week off from the restaurant and dropped you a text, late Tuesday evening, informing you of the same.

Honey✨❤👸 Hm, kay. Good luck x

Unsurprisingly, that stands to be your last message in his inbox. It’s been four days.

Sighing, he swipes a hand down his tired face and exits out of the message app. He went to bed at nine o’clock, last night, and owing to the way he has trained his body to sleep on command, he did manage to get a sleep of nearly six hours, too. But it was fitful and plagued with nightmares featuring you. 

Knowing he doesn't have to be at the restaurant until Monday and that his next gig isn’t until Wednesday, he cannot wait to get back home and drink his weight in alcohol before he sleeps his way through the weekend.

Just as he has moved past the intersection, his phone rings. 

Honey✨❤👸 calling...

He nearly spits the smoothie he just sipped at.

Coughing, he roughly jostles the plastic cup back in the holder and pulls up to a side of the road to pick up the call. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone, embarrassed at his desperation.

“Jin. Um, hi.” You sound awkward, as if you…have been compelled to call him due to some reason.

He is immediately worried. “Honey? Is everything okay, do you need something?”

He hates himself for being so concerned when you have been neglecting him for so many days – yet again, despite your spat at the restaurant – instead of finally talking to him about what’s bothering you, but he can’t help it. At the end of the day, you are the love of his life. 

“Yes, yes, I’m okay. It’s just, um. Can you pick me up from the restaurant?” you sound nervous.

But, Seokjin realizes, I was right. You do need something. He clears his throat. “Uh, okay, I guess,” he agrees before stopping short when he realizes the time. “Wait, it’s barely even two. Why are you leaving?” he asks, confused and a little concerned. You work your shift till five every day and till eight on weekends.

“Tomorrow is Halloween, Jin. We’re closing for the weekend, remember?”

Seokjin’s mouth falls open on a gasp. He really had forgotten. “Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there in five, wait up.”

He swerves the car into the lane and takes off in the direction of the restaurant. 

He laughs at himself. He has been so caught up in work that he literally forgot Halloween. He wonders if this is what actual adulting is.

He is stopping before the restaurant within three minutes of your phone call, eyes immediately spotting your delicate figure standing on the sidewalk with your hands crossed against your chest.

You step down from the curb when you spot his car, and walk towards him. He watches your elegant legs as they beautifully fall in a straight line. Even when exiting your job as a waitress, you’re every bit the elegant model he met in college. Your hips sway tantalizingly, and something akin to longing swirls in his chest.

He composes himself quickly when you cross the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You awkwardly clear your throat as Seokjin busies himself with starting the vehicle, unsure if he should initiate conversation.

“Um, sorry about this. You were probably getting ready for shoot,” you finally say. “Byulyi dropped me off today. She wasn’t picking her phone up. I was trying to get a cab for half an hour. And the bus stop’s really far—”

“Hey, stop. It’s okay. You should’ve called me sooner.” Seokjin catches your apprehensive gaze on his oversized hoodie when he chances a glance at you. He sighs. “I was returning home from shoot, actually.”

He feels you stiffen, and he feels even more mentally drained at this. You used to be updated with his schedule to the tee — just short of having an actual copy of the calendar his agent carries on him. And the same goes for him with your schedule. This feels so wrong.

You are quiet for a while, your hands fidgeting in his peripheral vision.

“How—how was it?” you finally say, voice coming out like a croak.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “The usual. Blinding, tiring, exhaustive. I did okay, I guess.”

He feels your gaze snap up to drill holes into his skull. Your eyes are wide when he checks. “Okay? Since when do you do anything less than amazing at shoots, babe?”

He feels endeared at your casual use of a pet name. “I had to get up at three in the morning and go through a skincare routine. Then drive across the entire city to get to the location, because they wanted to capture actual sunrise. I was more tired than excited by the time they rolled cameras, so.” He shrugs. “Can’t really say I gave my best today.”

You nod at his admission. 

Seokjin almost jumps when his phone rings, again.

Jiminie calling...

He feels you shift in your seat. His mouth sours at the reminder of that Sue girl that started off this entire tussle between you and him. Fucking Jimin and his conquests. What happened to the shy and more than a little glum looking freshman he let into his living space, three years ago?

Your hand suddenly reaches forth to accept the call, putting it on loudspeaker, immediately. Seokjin gapes at you, momentarily looking away from the road. 

“Uh…hyung?” Jimin’s confused voice echoes in the car. 

Seokjin snaps out of his daze when you gesture towards the device. “Wh—Jimin, hi, what’s — what’s up?” he stumbles his way through a haphazard greeting.

“Hyung, I needed a favor. Are you on your way back from the shoot, right now?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin sees you freeze in your seat.

He feels a perverse sense of satisfaction. Yes, take that! Park Jmin knows of my schedule better than you do! This is what you get for ghosting me! “I was, yeah. What is it?”

“Oh, great! I kinda need your help, hyung. My tire gave out. Could you pick me up from the Kappa hall?”

Seokjin scowls. “Yah! Who am I, your butler? Hop on a damn bus!”

He notices you pursing your lips, no doubt finding his agitation humorous — you always do. 

“Hyu~ng,” Jimin whines. “I would take the bus, but the next one leaves in forty-five minutes and I need to be back within an hour!”

“What? Why?”

“I started on my sem project really late, hyung, and now I gotta spend any time I can spare at the rehearsal hall. I’m meeting a choreographer here in an hour. Please help me out!” Jimin is still whining, and maybe his reasoning is kind of alright, but—

Seokjin is tired to his bones. He literally cannot drive all the way down to your apartment and then drive back to the university campus to pick Jimin up.

He sighs, wearily. “Jimin… I’m really tired.” 

“And I’m really desperate, hyung! Dancing is tough! And the subject I've chosen, tougher. I haven't done ballet since first semester, Freshman year! I have to work my butt off and be done in under two months."

Seokjin exhales, feeling beyond exhausted. But then your finger is tapping on the screen and the call has been muted. Seokjin’s surprised eyes fly up to meet yours. You look conflicted, biting down on your lower lip as you shake your head with a frown.

“You should go home and rest, Jin. Leave the car with me, I’ll pick him up.”

“Hyung? Say something?”

Seokjin blinks. “You…”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll pick him up, yeah. He’ll drop me off and drive back to your place.”

“Hyung?! Did you put me on mute, or what? I can't hear a thing!”

“Tell him you’ll be there in ten!” you say, unmuting the call.

“I’m in the car, the network must have glitched. I’ll, uh… be there in ten?” Seokjin nervously finishes off, looking at you in question. You give him a nod, blinking slowly. “Wait up, okay?”

“Oh my God, thank you so much, hyung!” Jimin practically squeals through the phone. “I’ll be in the ice cream shop across the building. I love you, hyung-nim!”

Seokjin rolls his eyes and disconnects the call. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes as he takes a right, now moving in the direction of his apartment instead of yours. “You sure about this? Jimin, um, knows. About our…” Seokjin doesn’t want to call it the f-word, because he would like to believe that you two aren’t actually fighting. “You being upset, I mean,” he settles for the easier alternative. “He might ask questions.”

You give a small huff of wry laugh. “I can handle it, Seokjin. I’ve known Jimin for almost three years now.”

Seokjin doesn’t like it when you address him by his full name. And so, his lips remain pursed for the remainder of the ride, only parting to tell you to “drive safe and text me when you finally get home,” and then he walks inside his apartment without looking back.

He hears his car come to life and then speed away. He shuts his eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter. Gathering his emotional as well as physical bearings, he opens the refrigerator to rummage through some leftovers to munch on while he breaks out a six pack of Budweiser. 

Before his fried rice has even reheated, Seokjin groans at the sight of an all too jovial Hoseok entering the kitchen with a glint in his eyes. “No, Hobi. Not now.”

“What? I didn’t say a word, hyung!”

Seokjin winces, shutting his eyes just as the microwave beeps. “I don’t have enough energy to deal with your general aura, right now,” he mumbles, extracting the piping hot glass bowl. He leans down to open one of the compartments beneath the kitchen table to get to the beer that he’s been dreaming of for nearly an hour, now. “I’m dead on my feet and—woah!” Seokjin gasps, cutting himself off.

Hoseok hops into the kitchen, coming around to stand behind Seokjin. “So you found ’em,” he says around a chuckle.

“Found ’em? This is you?” Seokjin whips his head around to glare at Hoseok up from his crouch. “Why is my liquor closet resembling a liquor shop, Hobi? Why do we have all this—” he turns around to read the labels, cursing under his breath. “Why do we have,” he pauses to count, “five bottles of Tequila and eight bottles of Vodka?”

Hoseok frowns in concern. “Eight? There should be ten, hyung, check again.”

Seokjin actually gasps, this time. “What the hell, Jung Hoseok? Explain yourself before I start throwing hands!”

Hoseok smacks a palm against his forehead, taking Seokjin by surprise, yet again. “Tonight’s the Halloween party, hyung! Did you actually forget?”

Seokjin screws his eyes shut, letting his head roll back with a frustrated whine. “No~o, don’t tell me it's tonight. Halloween’s tomorrow, right? Why is the party tonight?”

“Yes, hyung, Halloween in tomorrow, which is why it would be stupid to hold the party when Halloween is ending.”

Seokjin finds the logic to be very severely flawed, but his energy is draining out fast and he cannot keep up with this quarrel. There’s no point, anyway. He’s known about this party for nearly a month. And Hoseok isn’t going to postpone a whole party just because Seokjin is tired.

“You look tired, hyung. You should rest. Recharge yourself before the party, okay? There’s plenty of time.” Hoseok pats Seokjin on the shoulder with a kind smile.

“I’m not even in the mood to party, Hobi,” Seokjin mutters, reaching behind all the glass bottles to extract his pack of cans. 

Hoseok scowls at Seokjin. “Because you’re upset about your fight, I realize that. All the more reason to party, hyung! Take your mind off it for some time, why don’t you? You don’t even have to dress up, come as yourself.”

“I’d rather just drink myself to sleep and not wake up for the next twenty four hours.”

Hoseok blocks his path as Seokjin moves to exit the kitchen. “Is Honey coming?”

Seokjin sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, Hobi. Did you invite her?”

“No, hyung, because you said you would.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue. He completely forgot. “Then she isn’t coming.”

Without listening to his protests, Seokjin trudges upstairs with his food and beer. He will be forced to come down for at least a couple shots, he is certain, so he better make as much of the time he has on his hands as he can.

These days, it seems to be becoming a pattern for you to do things without really understanding why you do them. 

You nibble at your bottom lip as you recall how gaunt and pale Seokjin had looked when you sat in the car. You had been really self-centered as it is, not really keeping in touch with him for four days, and then reaching out when you needed help. You couldn’t bear to think, on top of everything, that he had driven you home despite his extreme exhaustion while you sat back selfishly and let him drive around the city to pick Jimin up when he looked like a ghost.

You shake your head at yourself as Jimin jogs down the road to enter the car, ten seconds after you texted him. 

His gaze is slightly hesitant when he meets your eyes, even though his smile is nothing but genuine. “Hello, noona. How come you are…” he trails off, gesturing around the two of you.

You start the car, shrugging one shoulder. “Seokjin came to pick me up. Now you’re gonna drop me off.”

Jimin gives you a huge smile, before his eyebrows suddenly lower. You look away, veering onto the road. “Wait. Were you in the car with him when I called?”

You chuckle. “Yes.”

“Oh,” Jimin mumbles around a small laugh.

You hum to yourself as you drive, distracting yourself from the thoughts that keep encircling your head. Seokjin is your boyfriend, no matter how mad you might be at him — you love him and care about him. Which is why you have tried to help him out. Not to mention, you felt slightly guilty, as it is, about calling him to pick you up. Why is your gesture of goodwill bothering you, then?

This is what you do for people you care about. Seokjin would do the same.

Your train of thoughts suddenly comes to a screeching halt.

Would he? Would he, really?

“You okay, noona?”

You jolt back from your thoughts, wide eyes turning to look at Jimin. “Wha—yes, yeah, I'm fine.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’re gripping the wheel really hard.”

You look at your tightly clenched fists, and immediately ease them. “Oh, uh. Sorry. A lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Understandably,” Jimin mutters, looking out of the side window when you turn to look at him.

You purse your lips and press down on the accelerator. 

A few beats of silence pass between you two before Jimin clears his throat. “Can I say something?” he asks you in a soft voice, looking nothing like the seductive persona he puts forth to get ladies falling in his bed. 

You exhale. “Sure.”

“You, um. You are not just hyung’s girlfriend, you know?” he says slowly.

You scoff. “Of course, I do. I am also the very best server my restaurant has ever seen and the best struggling model you’ll ever meet, on the side.”

Jimin snorts, before giggling with his eyes closed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You do. But you do not want to face it. You want to be selfish, for once. You do absolutely know that you have been ignoring all the boys in your anger at Seokjin, but you absolutely do not wish to do anything about it. Not until you’ve resolved this tense air between you and Seokjin.

“You are also a part of our little family,” Jimin quietly finishes.

You suck your lips in at that. The word “family'' really gets to you. 

He’s right, isn’t he? 

All eight of you — well, nine, now, with the addition of Taehyung’s girlfriend — have been a family since the day you met these guys.

You smile as the memories start to filter in.

You had had a giant crush on Seokjin since the very first time you saw him in your Freshman year. Well, having a crush on the guy wasn’t that unheard of given how handsome he was. It also helped matters that he modelled for the cover page of your university’s journal within his first month in college. What surprised you was his reciprocated interest when you both finally got to know each other, thanks to Byulyi. Your current roommate was majoring in photography back then, and somehow roped the two of you into modelling for her portfolio. Seokjin asked you out during the sixth month of your Freshman year.

You recall being introduced to Yoongi in your Sophomore year, when he entered your college as a Music major. You found him laid back, calm but really sassy, and fun to be around. The three of you often hung out together, and you took immense pleasure in singling Seokjin out with the two of your sarcastic back and forths.

In your senior year, Hoseok transferred to your college as a Sophomore, and Taehyung and Jimin entered as Freshmen. 

Hoseok was literally the most lively person you’d ever met in your life. There wasn’t a single moment of boredom next to him. He was easily given the responsibility of planning all your outings and parties, henceforth — a position he still holds with full competence.

Taehyung was usually found to be lost in his head more often than not in his initial college days. He was confused about his major for two entire semesters. With inputs from the group, when he eventually picked Art, he eased into college life. After that, he came out to be one of the weirdest and unwittingly funny guys in the group. You still don’t get how he was the first amongst all the boys to find him a girl.

Jimin was a really quiet and reserved individual, at first. He very rarely interacted with you all, choosing to stay holed up in his dorm room, instead, that Taehyung had forced him to share with him. You suspected he was recovering from a recent heartbreak. It became evident when he started dating someone within a week of getting into college, only to confess it was a rebound when he got dumped. The whoring around that began after the whole debacle is yet to cease, though. Obviously. 

Hoseok comes from a really well-off family, and had brought along with him the four-bedroom apartment he currently resides in with Yoongi, Jimin and your boyfriend. His uncle gave it away to him, rent-free of course, and he proposed to share it with the rest of the guys. Seokjin and Yoongi were immediately on board, more than eager to leave the chaotic dorm life behind. Taehyung, contrarily, decided he wanted to get the whole college experience and refused to quit the dorms. Jimin, then, left the dorm he shared with Taehyung to move in with the elders.

You met Jungkook immediately after your graduation on the boy’s eighteenth birthday. He instantly struck you as a smart kid, really good at singing as well as art. Yoongi disclosed he wanted to be a music major in your college, and you tried to encourage Jungkook about it, but the guy could hardly even look at you. It was cute but also hilarious how much he was scared of Seokjin, and by principle, you.

You believe that is still true. Now that you think about it, you're pretty sure you haven’t seen Jungkook ever actually relax around the two of you.

“Noona?”

You blink, coming back to the present as Jimin calls out to you. You take a deep breath, the memories hitting you with tender emotions. All these people are really precious to you, aren’t they? The bunch of you really are a family, aren’t you?

A sad smile swims up to your face. You miss the boys.

When he calls again, you turn to look at Jimin, questioningly. 

“Please don’t be mad at hyung,” he slowly says, looking down at his lap. In this moment, he looks quite unlike the Jimin you are used to and reminds you of, instead, the one you’d first met. “He might lack tact, sometimes, but he really loves you a lot. You’re his whole world. Whatever it is that you are angry about, you should tell him about it. I don’t think he would be able to figure it out by himself.”

This, you agree with. “I’ll try, Jiminie.”

“We all miss you. Especially Hobi hyung and I,” he says with a lopsided excuse of a smile. 

You resist the urge to fluff his hair. Jimin and Hoseok have been like the younger brothers you never had. You miss them, too. 

He suddenly chuckles. "And Yoongi hyung hides it well, but I think he's the one that misses you the most. No one helps him roast Jin hyung quite like you do."

You roll your eyes. "Of course not. It's a waste for Yoongi to even try to find a better partner at roasting Jin."

You spot your apartment building and pull up to it. 

“I’ll try to talk to Jin as soon as I can, Jimin, I promise. Don't worry so much about it,” you say as you step out, patting the boy once on his head. "I miss you all, too."

You give a small wave and faint smile to him as he drives away.

tagging: @shrimpmsg​

note: so! a lil bit of backstory and the infamous halloween party - how we feelin’ so far? the next part is ~12k words, too, and i’ll post it next wednesday, wait around~ 😘💕

SECOND PART OUT NOW: read here!

© jimilter | 2021

[realcube]

how haikyuu!! characters confess to you on valentine’s day💘

characters: kyōtani, tsukishima, sugawara & akaashi 

tw// none 

kentarō kyōtani

♡ writes you letter and puts you it in your locker 🥺

♡ but you catch him in the act FDGHJGFD

♡ he memorised that you usually arrive at school at around half passed eight so he made it a point to get to school extra early so nobody would see him

♡ but little did he know, you had the exact same plan in mind 🤦‍♂️

♡ so when you walked into school and noticed kyōtani aggressively pounding on your locked bc his chucky letter wouldn’t fit through the slot, you both froze in your tracks

♡ he realised how shady it looked that he was trying to get into your locker — plus, he was aware that he already had the appearance and the reputation of a delinquent, so he immediately thought that you would assume he was trying to rob your locker

♡ but in reality, not even for a second did you think that he was trying to steal anything

♡ but either way, mans took off 🏃‍♂️

♡ cut to you chasing him through the hallways, yelling for him to come back so you could confess to him

♡ but he thought you were chasing him bc you were angry 

♡ eventually he reached a dead-end so he had no choice but to face your wrath

♡ so imagine his surprise when - instead of screaming at him - you handed him a box of chocolates in a heart-shaped box, with a little sticky note on top with ‘be my valentine?’ written on it

♡ he was speechless so he just kinda looked up and stared at you with a blank expression

♡ ‘i know it’s cheesy but it was the best i could come up with.’ you stuttered, desperately trying to break the awkward silence kyōtani had left you in

♡ he was finally able to process what you had just given him and subtly shoved his love letter into his pocket now that you had confessed to him, ‘uh, thanks, i guess.’ 

♡ your lips instinctively fell into a frown, assuming that was a ‘no’. but to hide your disappointment, you forced a smile back on before turning your heels and hastily rushing away - planning to go cry in the bathroom now ✌ ‘okay, erm, bye, kyōtnani!’

♡ kyōtani’s eyes widened at how shaky your voice was all of a sudden and why you seemed to desperate to get away from him. had he said something to upset you?

♡ ‘uh, bye. meet me by the gates after school today.’

♡ you paused in your tracks, almost tripping over by doing so, ‘why?’ you choked, peering over you shoulder to look at him with hopeful, wide-eyes which caught him off-guard

♡ like jesus christ you looked cute-

♡ he felt his cheeks heat up at the sight so he quickly turned his head to the side and barked, ‘don’t be an idiot! obviously i’m gonna take you to the shop and buy you some chocolates - it’s only fair.’

♡ ‘like..a date?!’ you squealed, twirling around and clasping your hands together in delight 

♡ ‘no.’

♡‘oh-’

♡ ‘i’ll take you on a date in the park afterwards.’  

♡ you bounced excitedly, unable to resist the urge to throw yourself into his arms and hold him in a tight embrace, ‘i can’t wait!’ 

♡ kyōtani let out a light sigh of relief as he felt your chest press tightly against his own, ‘yeah, same’

♡ although he didn’t sound too enthusiastic, he showed that he was looking forward to the date by skipping practise so you didn’t have to wait for him :))

kei tsukishima 

♡ he does not ask you to be his valentine’s at the start of the day

♡ he just waits - not so patiently - for you to ask him 

♡ but you didn’t >:(

♡ he was livid

♡ oh and during lunch you got him so hopeful bc you were like ‘oh, tsukki! i almost forgot. i’ve got something for you!’

♡ and he was like 90% sure it was a box of chocolates to accompany your confession but it was hIS FKN CHARGER THAT HE ACCIDENTALLY LEFT AT YOUR HOUSE A FEW DAYS AGO AAAAAA

♡ grrr so since the whole day passed and you didn’t confess to him, he figured that he had to do everything himself 🙄

♡ last period, he texted you, asking for you to meet him at his house after your club

♡ (he wanted to confess in a location where there was no one around to make fun of him if he got rejected and if he was accepted, then he could take you on a date to the café near his house) 

♡ so begrudgingly, you did - but after your club 

♡ and you were under the impression that he went to volleyball club that day so he wouldn’t have to wait by his house for too long but rather, he skipped that day so he could first pop to the shops to buy a bouquet 

♡ when you arrived at his house, you were greeted by him holding at bouquet of flowers and forcefully shaking them, indicating that he wanted you to take them

♡ ‘what are these for, tsukki?’ you hummed, grasping the stems of the flowers and slowly pulling them towards you, taking a long whiff of their sweet scent

♡ tsukishima looked away shyly, unable to make eye-contact with you without blushing. damn, this was harder than he thought. 

♡ ‘for valentine’s day, duh.’ 

♡ you smirked, hugging the bouquet to your chest as you gazed up at him longingly, ‘so are you asking me to be your valentine or are these sympathy flowers?’ 

♡ tsukishima rolled his eyes, ‘asking you to be my valentine. but you’re so oblivious, i’m starting to regret it now.’

♡ that was a lie

♡ tsukishima mentally scolded himself; he was literally trying to get you to go out with him? why was he insulting you?

♡ ‘well, i’d love to be your valentine, kei.’ you cooed, your arms full with the flowers so instead of hugging him, you pressed your face in his chest and steadily, his large hand found it‘s way to your back, rubbing up and down your spine

♡ although on the outside he acted all nonchalant about it, on the inside he was setting off fireworks and celebrating 

♡ there was a long while of silence between the two of you, until he broke it by inquiring, ‘wanna go get something to eat?’ 

♡ ‘yessss!’

kōshi sugawara

♡ probably planned for weeks beforehand

♡ makin sure he was extra fanon suga around you 

♡ so when valentine’s day rolls around, he gives you a box of homemade cookies with barely any explanation 

♡ then you noticed a lil’ sticky note on it, telling you to meet him at his house at 7PM 

♡ you acted accordingly and once you arrived at his house, you were greeted by more homemade cookies and sugawara in a tuxedo 

♡ ofc he led you to his back garden, gesturing for you to take a seat at the table he had set out under his small gazebo 

♡ the table was all set for a hot date; which you could tell by the pale tablecloth, expensive-looking ivory plates, sparkling clean cutlery and the cherry on top was the candle he had lit which sat in the middle of the table 

♡ then he came out with cloche, rushing up to you before lifting the lid - and once the clouds of steam subsided, you realised it was your favourite food- 

♡ ‘you’re so extra, kōshi.’ you whined, hiding your blushing face with your hands 

♡ he chuckled at your flustered reaction, taking a seat on the chair across from you only to lean across the table slightly to get a better view of you, ‘i just wanted this to be perfect for you, (y/n).’ he shrugged, not sure whether to take your statement as a compliment or insult

♡ ‘it is. thank you!’ you finally removed your hands from your face for him to see your grateful expression

♡ UHGFFKUJ HIS HEART 🥺

♡ anyway, he probably makes a big deal out of feeding you the first few bites of your food bc he thought it’d be romantic but he accidently dropped some on your school bottoms smh 

♡ also, at some point in the night, he makes sure to do that thing where he leans across the table and eyes your lips while wiping some food off the corner of them 

♡ oh and knuckle kisses 🥰

♡ he genuinely didn’t want the night to end so his heart sunk when he had to escort you back to your house

♡ but at least he got to hold your hand :))

♡ you were both staring up at the gorgeous night sky that was decorated by stars in comfortable silence, until sugawara realised something, ‘oh, i didn’t even ask you to be my valentine- my bad!’

♡ before you could coo an ‘it’s okay’, suga had already skipped in front of you and fell to one knee, taking you hand in his own and bringing it to his lips

♡ ‘kōshi’ you squealed, trying to cover your face with your spare hand - your heart skipped a beat at how similar sugawara’s actions were to a proposal 

♡ suga thought you were so cute when you were shy aaaa (❤´艸｀❤)

♡ ‘(y/n), will you do me the honour of being my valentine?’

♡ ‘you’re such a prince!’ you gasped upon making a connection between sugawara’s signature beam and that of a charming prince from movies

♡ suga faltered at how off-topic your comment was, ‘thank you- but is that a no?’

♡ your eyes widened, rapidly shaking your head and dropping to your knees to place a lil’ peck on his forehead, ‘nonono! it’s a yes!’

♡ suga couldn’t help but snort at your adorable actions, mimicking them and pecking the tip of your nose

keiji akaashi 

♡ definitely a secret admirer thing leading up to valentine’s day

♡ he’s been leaving notes in your locker for months tho

♡ he just loved seeing the wide grin spread across your face while you read the letter he wrote  

♡ then he realised that valentine’s day was approaching so that gave him an excuse to confess 

♡ one day he somehow mustered up the courage to write ‘meet me by the forest at 5′ on it and as soon as he slipped it into your locker, he was panicking

♡ like he was so anxious; the biggest fear on his mind being that, what if you didn’t like him?

♡ he was even considering not showing up bc he was too nervous

♡ but the last thing he wanted to do was ghost you and potentially hurt your feelings so he turned up 

♡ when you saw him, he was acting so odd - hardly even acknowledging your presence -  that you weren’t sure if he was the one writing the letters or if it’s just a coincidence 

♡ ‘hi..’ he finally murmured, gently tapping your shoulder to grab your attention

♡ you smiled, clutching the letter to your chest as you twitched with excitement, ‘hi! are you, erm..the person who’s been writing these letters?’

♡ akaashi nodded, keeping his gaze glued to the ground while awkwardly fidgeting with his fingers

♡ ‘oh- well, they’re so beautiful! you have such a way with words and you make my day ten times brighter. thank you so much, akaashi.’

♡ he perked up upon hearing you say his name, he didn’t think you knew it-

♡ i mean, yeah, you were in the same biology and maths class but in the past, you’ve never even spared him a glance

♡ ‘it’s no problem. and seeing you smile makes my day brighter so..’ akaashi instantly cringed at how stalkerish and pathetic that must’ve sounded 

♡ so needless to say, he was pleasantly surprised when you simply giggled in response, ‘you’re sweet- anyway, i was wondering you’d like to come with me to get tea or someth--’

♡‘sure.’ he was sold at ‘tea’. 

@the-astrumnauta @scftfairyking​ 

[fumingspice]

Big Love

Disclaimer: It includes smut and possibly some angry typing because i spilt my peach tea (might have to sue Lipton’s now smh) over my dad’s computer so if I'm not killed for writing smut then that's why I'm dead. 

Pairing: Billie-Dean Howard x Reader

Words: 2.9k

Prompts: "I might have slept in your robe while you were gone" & "I've never wanted to fuck you this badly" & "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen"

It had taken almost two years for the celebrity medium to make you fall for her, and boy did she have her work cut out with you. Sensibility and responsibility were your two strongest suits and Billie-Dean, as admirable as she may be, found is maddening.

When she had finally gotten you to blush for the first time, you knew it would be a fast and slippery slope down the landslide that was your employer. It had started with the odd brushing of hands when she stood close to you; her pinky finger "coincidentally" falling over your own that time you went to see a movie together; those beautiful brown eyes darting from your eyes to your lips in the middle of a conversation; compliments to your personality and appearance. You exuded your professionalism, unknowingly only making the medium even more desperate to call you her own. 

The final slip that contributed to the falling happened on one cold winter night- Billie-Dean had suggested you stay until the worst of the blizzard had passed. "I don't want you to get hurt, Y/N," she told you, sincerity in her voice. You pursed your lips tight and gave in to her for the first time. The medium bounced on the spot and clapped her hands together. "Excellent," she said, "we can watch a movie if you like." You agreed to this. A little movie with a boss never hurt anyone's career, you decided. And you were completely right; this wasn't going to hurt anyone at all- at least, not in a bad way.

Billie returned to the living room with two glasses of wine and a bowl of popcorn balanced on her head, a smile draped across her face. You chuckled at her and accepted the glass of wine. "I don't think you realise how proud I am of myself for not dropping this everywhere, hon," she told you, sitting at the other end of the couch- further from you than what she would usually sit. This was odd, the past few months Billie had constantly sat right beside you unless you had made it clear that you were uncomfortable with the closeness, although you rarely did. You tried your best to ignore both the strangeness and the butterflies hovering in your chest. 

"You should be very proud of yourself," you said, relaxing back onto the soft leather. Billie-Dean had chosen to put on Rocky Horror Picture Show. 

The movie was pretty uneventful until about fifteen minutes in when Billie finally scooted herself closer to you. "Oh, there she is," you tease, biting your tongue between your teeth, "I was wondering why you were sitting so far from me." Billie chuckled, telling you to shut up playfully. "I got cold," she said, her cheeks going slightly pink. You mutter a "yeah, yeah," as she kicked her feet onto the couch and lent against you, hesitating so long to lay her head against your chest that you gently brought her head down yourself. 

Your heart was beating fast and you were confident that Billie could sense your nerves, but for the first time, you had noticed a shyness in Billie's usually flirtatious manner towards you. Unsure of what to do with your hand that didn't hold the glass of wine, you brought it up to her head and started playing with her blonde locks. Another song came on in the musical and even you- the biggest sceptic of all time- could sense her shyness. 

Billie hoisted herself up on her arm closest to your body and turned to face you, clearly no longer interested in the movie. She spoke your name in a low whisper, a longing in her voice. Her darting eyes gave you her full intentions, and you would have been more than happy to fall under the spell of her lips had her legs not have knocked the bowl of popcorn and her glass of wine off the coffee table and onto the wooden floor beneath. 

"Oh, for fuck sake!" she exclaimed, running for a towel to soak up the wine. You chuckled nervously, getting off the couch to pick up the popcorn. The blonde came scuttling back in and threw a towel over the mess. "God, I'm a mess. I'm sorry, Y/N," she mumbled, biting her lip. Her anxiety concerned you- this was extremely out of character for her. You let her soak up the wine before you lay your hand over hers. 

"Billie, what is the matter with you? I've never seen you like this," you said, searching for any hint you could get in her eyes. 

The woman stopped biting her lip. "I'm afraid of messing this up," she muttered, taking the towel and going back to the kitchen without warning.

You followed her back in, finally able to see her in the light. Her makeup-free face glowed in the soft light. Mess what up?  You stood close to her, taking her hand shyly. Billie looked straight into your soul, her eyes turning warm. 

Soft. 

The swiftness and natural feeling of her touch came too quickly for you to comprehend completely what was happening, but you didn't need to. It was like the action had been etched into your soul. Billie rested her hand on your face and pulled you into herself, her lips folding over your own in a flurry of emotions. It had lasted only seconds but sweet Jesus you had never experienced such a sweet bliss in your life. Billie's hands ran on their whim, tangling into your hair and pulling you closer into her mouth. Her tongue found an entrance and rolled smoothly over your own.

"and if you saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills." 

The radio added to the silence between you when she realised what she had done and pulled away. You expected nervousness yet again, but you were met with a signature grin. "I'm gonna pretend that I'm not as nervous as I feel," she chuckled, breathless from your kisses. You grinned and chuckled back. 

"You have nothing to be nervous about, Billie-Dean," you said, glad that she finally regained her confidence a little. The woman's eyes darted to your lips again until she pulled herself back to reality. "Shall we finish the movie?" You ask, admiring her features. 

Billie nodded and led you back to couch. This time, she pulled you into her, so that you lay comfortably across her chest as her fingers ran delicately your back, tracing lines upon lines on the fabric. It was clear that now that she knew that she had you, she had no interest in the movie. Eventually, after a few deepened kisses, she snatched the remote and paused the movie, pulling you into a straddle on her lap. You grinned and brought your face close to hers before pulling away again as her face came towards you. 

"Patience, beautiful," you tell her, teasing her for a few more seconds before pushing her forcefully into the couch. Billie's eyes widened at your need to dominate her, but you had no idea that's not what she had planned. You took her face in your hands and kissed her passionately and hard. Her hands dropped slowly from your lower back to your ass, squeezing quickly before moving her lips from your mouth down your jaw and leaving small purple love bites down your neck before reaching your clavicle. Her hands fought to undo the buttons of your blouse before you pushed her back, hand resting on her throat. "Easy tiger," you breathed. Billie groaned and rolled her eyes. You chuckled at her frustration. "You know I'm not leaving until tomorrow, right?"

Your lips made her way to her jawline, sucking every few kisses until you reached her mid-neck. Billie gasped loudly as your tongue slid over the sensitive skin, sucking hard and wide. You drew back at the slightly metallic taste and admired your art. "That's for making me fall for you," you whispered. 

Billie's eyes widened as she saw the huge mark in the mirror close by. Her eyes darkened as she pulled your shirt, buttons snapping and exposing your bra. Billie glared in hunger, making eye contact with you as her lips caught the swell of your breast and kiss passionately. "Fuck," you breathed as you felt her hands slip behind your arched back and unclasp your bra. She took the garment and waved it in front of your face. 

"Oh, sweetie. Fuck is right," she teased, biting your skin to leave a dark bruise. Her mouth shifted teasingly close to your nipples before she drew back again to look at the marks she had dotted down your chest and neck. 

It was still nothing compared to what was left on her neck.

She spent what felt like hours teasing your skin, but never going as far as to slip her hand or mouth over sensitive areas, and she was driving you up the walls. Eventually, Billie decided you had suffered enough for the massive mark on her neck and she led you up the stairs to her bedroom. 

"I'm gonna nip down to the shop for some orange juice," she told you, giving you a deep kiss. "Do you want anything?" 

You declined and lay on her bed, pulling her down with you. "I want you to stay," you told her between kisses. Although; what you wanted to know was 

Billie chuckled. "I'm a fast runner," she told you as she slipped on a pair of sneakers. 

While she was out, you explored around her bedroom, taking a robe that was hung up in her closet, stripping off and putting that on before crawling into the covers. Billie kept her word and was back in less than ten minutes. 

"You made me wait," you muttered with a raised brow. Billie grinned when she saw your clothes folded on the bedside table. She excused herself to the bathroom, then returned minutes later wearing a silk robe, her red lingerie showing beneath. You bit your lip at the sight. 

"I promise that its worth it," she whispered as she crawled into the covers, her body hovering over yours. She looked at your stolen robe and giggled. "This looks familiar," she said, slipping a hand under the fabric to cup your breast. You let out a light moan, trying to push down the longing further south in your body. 

"I had to leave you something to take off, didn't I?" you teased, biting your finger. You knew how to drive this woman up the wall and you were going to do exactly that.

Unfortunately, Billie seemed to have the same idea. She pulled back, sitting straight as she straddled your hips. The medium took her hand and traced it down her neck, pausing at her breast and then sliding it slowly between her thighs and moaning lightly. You left your hands on her hips, following her swaying movements against your body. She lent down, taking your left leg and putting it over her shoulder. 

"I've never wanted to fuck you so badly," she whispered into your ear, causing goosebumps to race down your arms and thighs. Her lips went straight to yours once again, kissing you before pulling back one last time. "May I?" she asked, her fingers tracing dangerously close to your entrance. You nodded into her mouth, trying to calm your body what was about to happen, Billie kissed your neck, sliding her middle finger in slowly. Your back arched up and a low moan escaped your lips. Any indication of experiencing pleasure only made Billie more energetic. She slipped in a second finger, curling upwards and laying the heel of her palm against your clit, trying to test how far your limits were without pushing any boundaries. 

Her mouth explored everywhere- kissing your face, neck, leaving hickeys and bruises over your collar bones in a swirl pattern. 

It was still nothing compared to that zombie attack on her neck. 

Your skin looked like you had just been pelted with fifty BB-gun pellets. Your lips were swollen, some hickeys were raised slightly, your nipples were tender.

Frankly, your body must have looked like it was having a very insistent demon exorcised from it with your moans and jerks. Billie slowed down her fingers and carefully removed them, the sensation of not having her digits inside you was now unfamiliar. "Oh, baby. I'm not finished yet," she said, voice low and groggy. She made her way up, sucking, biting and kissing your skin until she reached your lips; kissing you like her life depended on you. She had edged you all the way to an orgasm before slowing down again. "I wanted to use my mouth," was her excuse. She began the trail back down again, kissing, nipping, biting until she got to your belly button. Here, she kissed gently, treating you as if you were a masterpiece. "Is this okay?" You nodded, still too breathless to speak. Billie went back into her zone, kissing your abdomen and leaving hickeys on your thighs and hips.

She let you yearn for her touch for a few moments, leaving you in a position where the only thhing you could do is stare at her ceiling and writh with desperation. You had to grab the sheets to stop your hands from grabbing her by the head and pulling her between your legs. After enough anticipation, she lowered her head between your legs and slowly dragged her tongue along your entrance. Your head fell back, the warm wetness and heat of her breath only adding to the intense rapture. A sharp moan made her pick up her speed gradually, allowing your moans and whimpers to guide her. "Billie," you moaned, your hands tangling in her blonde hair and pulling her in further, her chuckle sending vibrations into your heat which only added to the rippling pleasure. A request for her to go harder sent her up the wall as she sucked and released your clit from her mouth with a loud pop. 

"You like that, babygirl?" Your lack of a reply was her answer. She stopped what she was doing until you looked straight at her. Her big brown eyes were dark with arousal and the skin around her mouth was coated with her saliva and your wetness. Her lips curled into a grin. 

"You're done?" you asked in disappointment. "You didn't let me have an orgasm." Billie's grin never faultered as she reached up to kiss you, her tongue begging entrance to your mouth. She returned to your nether region to complete her work. 

Instead of warming you up like she did last time, she dove straight in with an open mouth. You could feel yourself edging extremely close and your thighs shut tight around her head. The blonde moved a thigh to the side, bringing her hand to replace her mouth at your entrance and continuing sucking on your clit. It was now clear that her main intention was making sure that you would be unable to sit tomorrow. Her fingers curled deep inside you, hitting the spot that she had searched so hard to find. A tension became obvious in your lower abdomen as you grabbed her head hard. You gave a long and sharp moan as she rode you through your orgasm. It lasted longer than any you'd ever had or any she had ever given. She stayed between your legs a while longer, using her tongue to clean you up before crawling up beside you. You kissed Billie and she pulled you close. 

"You know, Y/N. You're the most beautiful thing I've seen in my life."

Minutes passed and you cuddled together in a very comfortable silence as you caught your breath and relaxed. "Billie, I-"

Billie interrupted you with a kiss. "-think that was the most amazing moment of your life?" she finished. You grinned and rolled your eyes as she lit a cigarette and pulled you against her bare chest. 

"Yes," you said. "That. And I wanna know if this is something real or just some casual fuck."

Billie stopped short from taking a draw of her cigarette. "What do you mean?" she asked, her brows knitting together. 

You sit up to face her. "I like you, Billie. As in I really like you. As in if we're going to do this then I want to be in a serious relationship." Billie's eyes softened at your words, she nodded for you to continue. "I know that I'm not the first assistant of yours to fall into your bed- and God knows I probably won't be the last- but I just wanna know how you feel about me."

Billie sucked in her cheeks. "I like you, Y/N. I like you alot. Not as my assistant and not as a friend. I've never been in a relationship before that wasn't based on- I don't know- horniness or career jumping. Honestly, I've felt this way about you far too long for this to be a casual crush," she admitted. You blushed lightly and smiled. 

"So, what does that mean?" you ask. 

Billie frowned. "You're a smart girl. You don't need me to spell it out for you." 

You chuckled at her hesitance, "sorry, Billie-Dean. There's a bit of a pain between my legs that's causing my thoughts to stop." 

Billie rolled her eyes and brought you back down on her chest.

Silence crept in and you were afraid she was trying to find a way to let you down easy.

"Y/N?"

You swallowed and braced yourself. "Yes?"

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//general dating headcannons//

Characters: Daishou Suguru/ Kita Shinsuke/ Yamaguchi Tadashi

Warnings: i don’t think any??

Word Count: 2K (~650 a piece)

Notes: i am soft for kita shinsuke. that is all.

Daishou Suguru

He’s a top tier boyfriend and no one is allowed to tell me otherwise

He is a first-class WEENIE for his s/o and would genuinely do anything for them

But noooo y’all hate him smh

Daishou is the kind of person who puts every important date of your relationship in his phone.  He is never missing your anniversary or your birthday or any other important relationship dates.  

He’s a good morning/good night texter too.  I know that everyone thinks he’s an asshole, but after being broken up with for focusing too much on a club, he doesn’t want you to feel like he only cares about volleyball.  If he’s going to be busy for a few hours, he’s going to tell you so you don’t think he’s just flat out ignoring you

I promise, he will let you do anything to him if you just ask.  Want to try to curl his hair?  Cool, just please don’t burn him.  You want to pluck his eyebrows?  Go ahead.  He doesn’t mind.  Did you see this really cute nail design that you want to try? Suguru already has his hand held out towards you so you can practice.

He’s not telling anyone that he does all of this so willingly though.  He has to maintain some essence of coolness

Literally the whole volleyball team knows that he’s a total simp, so idk who the hell he thinks he’s hiding it from

His love language is quality time, so as long as he’s with you, he’s perfectly content.  Daishou will happily just sit next to you for hours, sending each other memes or stupid tiktoks.

When it comes to actually going out on dates, he’s really simple.  He likes picnics in the park or taking hikes or going stargazing.  It feels very intimate to him and allows a certain degree of vulnerability that can’t be found anywhere else.

You guys went stargazing on your first date and he brought you flowers and the two of you shared snacks it was all very cute and there was no way that you weren’t going to go on a second date with him

Speaking of flowers-

One time you made him mad over something really stupid and he brought you some flowers as a partial apology for him being overdramatic, but the card just said “fuck you” in really pretty lettering, but there was a really small, “but also, I love you” on the other side.

The two of you pick up random hobbies together?  For no other reason than the two of you spend an awful lot of time just sitting at each other's house?  So, you decided to do something other than just sit on your phones for h o u r s

You’ve made those giant arm-knitted blankets together.  One time, you tried to make soap, but it didn’t smell good so that hobby got scrapped.  You’ve tried to learn how to roller skate together, but Daishou almost broke his arm so you thought maybe something less dangerous like puzzles.  But, those got old really fast.

Please for the love of god run your hand over his arms.  He will be putty in your hands.  He loves it so much.

Better yet?  Put your hands on his biceps when he kisses you and he’s a happy boy.  His arms are the feature that he’s most proud of, so knowing that you like them too is a big boost to his ego.

He has two main nicknames for you smh.  When he’s teasing or just being a little shit, he calls you sweetheart.  If he actually wants to be affectionate, Daishou calls you babygirl.

He’ll pull you into his lap and pepper your face in kisses while telling you, “I love you, babygirl, you know that?”

If you call him ‘Sugu’ or just ‘ru’ he may actually die right there.   It just plucks something in his heart that sends him to cloud-9.  

Suguru really is a fantastic boyfriend who just wants you to be happy ;-; He wants you to smile and laugh and be comfortable around him, because he’s here for the long-haul.  When Daishou falls in love, he falls hard

Kita Shinsuke

An absolute sweetheart

He’s going to take care of you so good

Kita for sure walked straight up to you and asked you on a date.  He gave zero fucks.  Nerves?  Kita has never heard of them before. If you reject him, you reject him.  It’s not like it’s the end of the world.

You met his grandmother really early into the relationship because she’s really important to Kita, so he needed to know that she approved of you before fully committing to a relationship with you.

But, I promise, she loves you and now that Kita is finally dating someone, she’s going to pester him about wedding plans once he comes home from your date.  She doesn’t care that this is only the second date.  She wants to see her grandson married.

Kita genuinely loves domestic life?  Please please please come over and cook with him.  If you offer to help him with the dishes, he may propose right there.  Okay not literally but you know what i mean.  Come over on Saturdays for laundry and gardening.

I should mention that dating Kita isn’t always chores and housework, but even when it is, it really doesn’t feel like it?  The two of you joke around, definitely throwing dirt at one another while you’re pulling weeds in the garden or flicking water at him while doing the dishes.  

He’s an “acts of service” kind of person.  Little things like having your favorite snacks in the cabinets for when you come over or turning the heat up before you get there so it’ll be warm because he knows you get gold. You left your math binder at his house once, so he took the time to put all of the loose papers where he knew you would’ve wanted them.

If you’re a person who gets periods, he has pads and extra painkillers stocked in the bathroom cabinet.

Please note that Kita has zero shame in buying you period products.  You need tampons?  Okay.  What size and what brand?  Do you want anything else?  He can get some snacks while he’s at the store too.  You can say no and he’s going to pick up a package of pizza rolls anyway.  He knows you well enough that you’ll say no, but only tell him that you're hungry the minute he gets home.  He’s played this game before.  He knows. 

It makes his grandmother so proud, seeing him love and care so wholeheartedly for another person that isn’t related to him.  She just knows that he’ll make an excellent husband to you one day

She cares about you just as much as he does.  Kita mentioned that you weren’t feeling well once, and she packed up a bunch of leftovers and some tea for him to take over to you, pretty much telling him not to come back until you were feeling well again.

Kita doesn’t beat around the bush, so if he has something he wants to tell you, he’s just going to say it.  Communication is really important to him and he believes that it’s the key to a healthy and happy relationship.

But, because of this, it took him a while to say I love you.  He didn’t want to just say it, you know?  He wanted to genuinely mean it. He believes that that phrase gets tossed around too easily. So, it was a few months before he actually said it, but you knew that he was serious when he did.

He likes to kiss the top of your head.  If you’re tall, he enjoys kisses to your temple just as much.

I 10/10 recommend a Kita.  He would love you wholeheartedly and, don’t tell his grandmother, he really does want to spend the rest of his life with you.

Yamaguchi Tadashi

Another absolute sweetheart of a boyfriend oml

But, I promise that you’re probably going to have to make the first move if you want anything to come from this.  

He’s just so shy and nervous when talking to people that he finds cute ;-;

Although, there is a chance that Tsukishima told him to get over himself and just ask you out.  

“It’s not that big of a deal.  If they say no, you move on.” 

Shut up, Tsukki.

Yamaguchi really likes to hold your hand.  It’s really grounding for him, so if he’s ever starting to get panicked, he’ll reach for your hand.

Before every game, he has to hold your hand and he’ll squeeze it three times before he has to go.  So, if he starts to panic during the game, he has a fresh memory of the feeling of your hand in his.

Yamaguchi lets you wear his jacket during games ;-;  He didn’t even think about it as something to show you off as his, he was just worried that you might get chilly in the stands, so he offered for you to take it.

But, now he’s obsessed with how cute you look with his jacket around your shoulders that he’s letting you hold onto it whenever he gets the opportunity.  

Study dates study dates study dates

The two of you will either go to a cafe or a library and claim a table and just hang out and do homework together.  If you’re struggling with something, he’ll walk you through it.  He moved his chair close to yours so that your knees just barely brushed against one another.  

He loves to bring you little gifts.  If he sees something in a shop that reminds him of you or if he thinks you might like it, he’ll buy it and give it to you the next time he sees you.

He usually doesn’t like nicknames?  He'd rather just be called by his actual name, but something about you calling him ‘dashi’ just feels right and he really likes it.

Tadashi has a lot of insecurities, especially in the start of your relationship with him.  He doesn’t understand why you’re so willing to be with him?? He’s just a bundle of nerves and he’s convinced that you could do so much better than him, but yet you still stay with him?  

It took him a really long time to get comfortable with the idea of being in a relationship and realize that you weren’t going to just dump him because you really got to know him, but when he does get comfortable, it’s like he’s a totally new person.  His nervous laughter actually becomes more full and free and he smiles a lot wider.  He isn’t afraid to tease you and he’s a lot more open about his emotions.

Tsukki is the first one to really notice just how good you are for Yamaguchi.  Tadashi isn’t super open with anyone but him, at least, until you came along and gave Tadashi another person that he could connect with and feel comfortable around.

Tadashi loves it when you play with the hair at the base of his neck.  It feels so comforting and he would love to just fall asleep right there with your fingers in his hair.  Everytime you play with his hair, his head immediately goes to your shoulder and he’ll wrap his arms around your midsection and tell you that he loves you.

You will never go a day without Tadashi telling you that he loves you and that you’re absolutely incredible.  He finds something to compliment you on every single day because he just wants you to know that you’re loved and, while yes, he does find you absolutely beautiful, sometimes it’s nice to be complimented on things other than physical appearance and that’s where Yamaguchi really shines.

{Taglist: @moncymonce @nicka-nell @celosiiaa @lovinnoya  and my fellow daishou suguru simp @kuronekomama​}

[genesisrose74]

A/n: This idea just popped into my head this morning and I needed to write it out, guess who finished in one day instead of focusing on summer school aha ha...so here’s the next edition of Class 1-A quarantine hc’s! I think I’ll include a bit of background for all of these, just for future reference if anyone likes them lmao. Today we have everyone’s favorite nitroglycerin king, Bakugo Katsuki! Hope y’all enjoy cause I’m honestly so soft for this one okay BYE-

Surprisingly, you’re initially part of the Dekusquad, but you’ve always been close with Kirishima and Mina and feel comfortable hanging out with their group as well so you start gravitating to the Bakusquad 

At first, Bakugo is really standoffish because, “You’re seriously friends with that damn nerd Deku” - wow everyone be hating on our cinnamon roll smh

But then he sees how much the rest of Bakusquad likes you and he starts warming up

It starts with small little things like not hogging all the space on the couches in the dorms and having you sit beside him

Then he notices that you’re very forgetful of your jacket and he ends up keeping a spare in his bag just in case the weather gets really bad

“I mistakenly grabbed two this morning, so lighten my load and carry the jacket—I don’t give a shit if you put it on, just hold it will you!” 

He’s acts all aggressive whenever he tries to be subtle and someone calls him out on it pffft- 

“What the hell are you talking about? You trying to get punched in the face?”

And his feelings are emphasized when the whole class is allowed to use the pool one afternoon and you’re pulling up with Mina and Momo

You’ve got a cute swimsuit and a sun hat on, and King Explosion Murder starts sweating a dangerous amount of nitroglycerin 

Bakugo Katsuki has a thing for soft girls who can pull a one-eighty and kick ass no I do not take criticism

The class wants to play chicken and everyone is choosing partners, but in the corner of his eye Bakugo sees you getting cornered by Mineta 

You’re usually able to handle the horny tornado but you’re feeling a bit too exposed in a bathing suit and start losing your cool

When I tell you the whole Bakusquad BOLTS to come rescue you-

Mineta is literally launched out of the pool by Sero like a rocket ship in orbit and the rest of the group is in this protective barrier formation around you (yes the squad has protocols for this kind of thing don’t even deny it)

Bakugo is beside you in a second with his hands secured on your waist because no one is coming near you like that when he’s around

“Why don’t you be my partner, yeah?”

And that's the story of how y’all destroyed everyone at chicken with absolutely no mercy and Bakugo finds your competitiveness that entire day attractive as hell

Walking back to the dorms afterwards, he pulls you away from the group and the look he gives you is  s e a r i n g

“For the love of God, go out with me” and he does not have to tell you twice

Literally the entire class is SHOOK because you’re actually pretty mellow and Mr. My Only Vocabulary Word Is Die is...ya know...✨volatile✨

But let’s be honest he’s actually a softie if you’re close enough to him (sorry Deku you’re the exception but we still luv u) and everyone ends up adoring y’all being together

When quarantine rolls around and you both have to live back at your respective houses, everything is decently calm for about two days and then you both start getting bored as hell

Honestly longer than you expected 

Bakugo hates social distancing with a passion but he agrees to abide by the rules and ends up asking you to Facetime at least twice a day

His bedroom is actually very tidy ‘cause Bakugo hates clutter, especially when he’s doing schoolwork

I wholeheartedly believe that Bakugo is a beast in the kitchen and y’all can fight me about it because his knife skills are canon and you best believe he learned it to be more independent 

He’s been experimenting with new cooking recipes and is a master at making something out of practically nothing in his fridge, which is really handy when a trip to the grocery store is long overdue

He sends you pictures of his dishes and your responses are all praise and none of it’s exaggerated either; this boy can COOK 

Netflix Parties with the Bakusquad — the chat gets loaded with Denki and Kiri spamming and Bakugo yelling at them in all caps to shut up

Your lock screen is a picture of the group on Facetime and you all have filters on (somehow you got Bakugo to use one don’t ask how); literal friendship goals

And then it’s been about a whole month since quarantine started and Bakugo wants to come visit you, but his mom shuts that down quicker than Barry Allen in the Speed Force

He’s pissed because he and his family feel perfectly healthy but his mother will not let him leave under any circumstances

So when his parents go to visit some relatives who were more susceptible to the virus and needed help with a couple basic tasks you decide to sneak out to see him (in good health of course)

Imagine his surprise when his typically rule-following girlfriend calls and is already standing in his backyard, bags of groceries in your possession

***

Bakugo shot you an incredulous look as you sat at the kitchen table. “You know I could have just opened the front door for you.”

“Yeah, but going through the window was way more fun,” you defended. “It’s not like I’m very rebellious at any other time, so might as well live it up while I have the courage.”

The blond snorted, sifting through the numerous bags you brought along to his house. They were filled with an assortment of foods: vegetables, meat, rice, sauces and the like. 

“What’s all this for?” he inquired, pulling out a bottle of teriyaki sauce.

You couldn’t help the small smile that grew on your face as your boyfriend curiously examined the items. “It’s for you to cook with, duh.”

“And how am I supposed to explain the new abundance of food in the fridge to my parents?”

“Say that I had it sent over through Postmates or something. Even I thought of that, Katsuki.”

He rolled his eyes as he placed down the last bag of items. “I can’t believe you snuck out and brought all this stuff,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “Thank you, babe.”

A faint blush rises to your cheeks, despite the fact you’ve been dating the first year student for a few months now. Girlfriend or not, verbal thanks from the King Explosion Murder was rare. “You’re welcome.”

Bakugo turned to the stove and started organizing a number of ingredients on the counter beside it, pulling out kitchenware from cabinets as he went.

“Since you’re here and all, I suppose I could make your dumb ass something,” he remarked. 

Your eyes practically sparkled with excitement at the offer; you were hoping the blond would make you one of his iconic dishes eventually. A ghost of a grin was present on Bakugo’s face at the cheer that left your mouth, his back facing you as he got started. 

You were quick to situate yourself on top of the kitchen counter, Bakugo lifting you by the waist to place you farther away from the flaming stove but still allowing you to watch as he worked. His knife skills were almost scary when chopping up the vegetables, the pace at which he was cutting them astonishing you, and the overall aroma of the space had your mouth watering before he was even close to finishing the meal.

“I feel like a judge on Master Chef,” you giggled, and the boy shook his head at the comment as he eyed a timer he had set for the pork he put on the stove. 

“I’m pretty sure my girlfriend of a judge would be a bit biased over the contestants,” he pointed out. 

You hummed thoughtfully. “I mean, if he keeps looking this attractive while making food I think my bias is justified.”

He glanced at you perched on the counter top, and took a few steps in your direction, cupping your cheek in one hand to kiss you quickly. 

“You’re distracting me,” the first year mumbled, running a thumb over your jaw. “Quit being so cute, dummy.”

You saluted playfully. “Yes, chef.”

He let out a soft laugh before moving back to silence the timer that had started beeping, alerting him that the pork on the stove was ready to go. The blond shooed you away and had you sit at the dining table as he took the skillet and turned off the stove flames.

As you waited patiently for Bakugo to finish up, you sang under your breath and set two spots at the table directly across from each other. By the time he was done, two plates of steaming food in hand, you were already sitting down and twirling a fork between your fingers. 

“What did you end up making?” You asked as he set a plate of rice and pork in front of you. 

“Tonkatsu,” he replied nonchalantly. 

It smelled like absolute heaven, and your hunger was only emphasized in the midst of the fast food you had been surviving off of during quarantine. This boy was even good at presentation, and you began to wonder if he was just talented at everything he tried.

Bakugo took the spot across from you and watched as you took the first bite. He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt a bit nervous that you wouldn’t like what he made. But that thought dissipated as quickly as it came once your fork flew into the meal for a second time, and you shot him a wide-eyed look.

“So good!” you exclaimed with a stuffed face, a few grains of rice falling from your mouth and back onto the plate.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full or you’ll choke, stupid,” he reprimanded, but your praise had an evident effect on the male as a smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“I expect gourmet lunches from you at least once a week when school starts again.” 

“Not a chance in hell that I’m doing extra work in the mornings.”

“I’ll buy you all the ingredients you want~” 

“...I’ll think about it.”

Next thing you knew, all the food on your plate was gone, gladly relocated to your stomach. Rounding the table, you wrapped your arms around Bakugo’s shoulders as he also finished eating. 

“Thank you for dinner, Katsuki,” you hummed contentedly, resting your chin on his head. “It was seriously masterclass, especially after all the takeout I’ve been eating.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” he waved it off. “I think a movie of my choosing is in order.”

“After we clean up, hot shot. Your mom would kill you if she realized someone was over.”

“Why wouldn’t she kill you too?”

“Please. Your mom loves me.”

The blond barked out a laugh before standing up and holding your waist, ushering you back to the kitchen. “True.”

Cleaning up was quick and easy with the both of you working together, stocking away dishes and remaining groceries. The evening sky, visible through a large window in the living room, glittered with stars as you sidled next to your boyfriend on the couch, the kitchen and dining room returned to its normal prestige.

“Katsuki?” you murmured, voice laced with a touch of contented sleepiness.

He turned his head from the television screen to face you. “Hm?” 

“I missed you, silly.” 

An arm was thrown around your shoulder and you were pulled closer to the male, who gently kissed your temple. 

“I missed you too, dummy.”

[amethystroselilith]

Intertwined Fates (Chilumi/Zhonglumi) - Chapter 5

Yea so... uhm... I may or may have been addicted to anime during vacation and the next thing I knew, uni started again and uhm... we're a month in now... So much for me promising to be active in writing smh...

Also, I learned how to add pictures! Chapter 3 is updated for the ring picture :)

Can be read in ao3 here

SUMMARY:

Plans don't always go the way it is

Lumine can’t help but smile as Qiqi’s laughter filled their living room. Her heart can’t help but melt at the sight of her future husband, and her father pretends to be monsters and make fool of themselves to entertain the little girl. Lumine can’t help but chuckle to herself, her daughter completely has these powerful men wrapped around her little fingers.

“A beach wedding is such a wonderful idea, Lumine! Your aunties and I have founded these locations so far, if they’re not to your liking, just tell me, okay? Your mother will make sure to make your dream wedding happen!” her mother beamed beside her as she splayed out the pictures of potential beach locations on the coffee table in front of them.

Never did Lumine thought there will come a time when her mother and herself will bond like this. Upon confirming their engagement, her mother had been ecstatic; messaging Lumine all potential wedding ideas she can, even creating a board on Pinterest.

While it may be annoying to Lumine, she can’t deny that she’s excited herself. She gently shrugged her mother off at first, claiming that she’s busy with work, but one boring evening when Ajax was busy fixing something at work in his home office, the blonde woman opened the app to see what her mother is up to. She looked through the grand ideas her mother had pinned, they were mostly wedding dresses and accessories. The more Lumine browses, the more her mind starts imagining a wedding scenario, and the next thing she knows, she’s saving beach wedding-related pins and a phone call from her mother popped out of her screen.

Ajax joined mid-conversation and was surprised, and secretly elated that his bride also shares the same excitement of them officially tying the knot.

Never did Ajax thought he would be so invested in wedding planning, he’s more invested in the honeymoon part, but after listening to his fiancée and soon to be mother-in-law for a while, he can’t help but fall in love with the beach wedding idea and started looking at ideas on his own phone, which granted him a collaboration in the Pinterest board they’re working on.

After a promise of her mother looking for venues, the two-hour conversation ended with an excited soon to be wed couple.

A few days after that night, Lumine can’t help but think of her grand day every time she has the chance to. She had been bright during work, always humming softly as she works. Her glow had affected everyone in the bakery, even Xiao who smiled softly and even suggested something for the wedding cake, which Aether will be in charge of.

It surprised the twins, making them stare at Xiao long enough for the said man to be embarrassed and murmured something to forget about it until Lumine expressed her delight at the idea.

The original idea was a beach-themed cake, with the usual sand-like crumbs and seashells. Xiao instead suggested a baby blue coloured cake with frosting smudged on the cake to look like waves.

The day then ended with Xiao and Aether presenting a drawing of their combined ideas, Aether adding some white roses to complete the look.

(AN: Source: https://emmalovesweddings.com/summer-beach-wedding-cakes/summer-beach-wedding-cake-ideas/)

Lumine is in love with it.

“Have you two decided on the wedding date yet by the way?” her mother pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Well, we’re thinking a sunny Summer wedding will be nice? It fits the whole beach wedding theme, and coincidentally, that’s the time Ajax and I will don’t have to worry much about work.” Lumine answered, “It’s also going to be Qiqi’s first Summer at the beach.” she smiled at the scene last night, Qiqi’s eyes wide and curious as Ajax talks about the beach.

Qiqi had never been a huge fan of being under the sun, always preferring to stay under the shade, but from the looks of last night, her daughter seemed to be willing to give it a try, the seashell hunting and castle building especially.

Her mother took note of it on her phone, “Got it, now go ahead and look at these locations, I’ll contact them as soon as we get home.” she smiled.

Lumine hummed as she looked at the potential venues, they look great to Lumine so far, she appreciates the notes her mother stick with the pictures showcasing what each location is known and loved for.

She’s really invested in it, and Lumine wonders where all this energy is when it was her and Zhongli-

Before she could dwell on the thought, she shook her head, gaining a curious look from her mother.

“Sorry, something caught in my eye.” she shrugged it off while pretending to rub her eyes.

She went over the venues again, she managed to pick her top 3 favourites before calling for her groom to be, “Ajax, can you help me choose between these?”

The scene before her paused with Qiqi laughing as she pretends to fly as Ajax holds her up while her grandfather pretends to catch her.

“Sure, wanna help Mama and Papa choose the wedding venues, Qiqi?” Ajax cooed before sitting next to Lumine, putting Qiqi on his lap.

“Yes, Qiqi wants lots of seashells.” the little girl replied as she looked at the pictures.

“I’m sure all of them have lots of seashells, dear.” her grandmother chuckled.

Her mother is right, so it doesn’t really narrow down Lumine’s options, “How about you?” she asked Ajax, intertwining her fingers with his.

Ajax hummed, giving Lumine’s hand a kiss as he looked at the options, Qiqi giggled and offered her own hand, to which Ajax chuckled and give it a light kiss as well before ruffling her hair.

“They’re all good to me.” he shrugged.

“Ah, as helpful as your father was when we were planning our wedding.” her mother joked.

“Hey, I just trust your taste more than mine.” her father defended as he sat next to his wife.

Ajax was about to use the same excuse, but Lumine glared at him, “Don’t you dare.”

He raised his hands in defence, “Alright how about this, we close our eyes and let fate pick?”

Lumine raised an eyebrow.

“What? They’re your top 3 favourites, right? And we can’t choose, so why not give it a try?” Ajax shrugged.

Lumine sighed but agree, “Well, why not?”

With their hands together, they closed their eyes.

Their parents can’t help but laugh, Qiqi giggling in anticipation as she waits for the answer.

Their fingers grabbed a picture.

They opened their eyes,

‘Cool Isle’, it read.

~~~

“Qiqi wants beach wedding too,” Qiqi says, effectively freezing Ajax from cooking.

Lumine snickered from the table, watching and waiting for the man’s reaction. It was almost dinner time when her parents left, so they decided to hang out in the kitchen while Ajax prepares their meal, Qiqi’s colouring on her notebook while Lumine decided to just randomly film themselves. It’s a thing that she loves to do, documenting some of their lives to look back to in the future, and now looks like an interesting memory to laugh at someday.

Ajax turned to them with a tight smile, “No.”

Qiqi pouted, “Why not?”

“Because you’re my baby Qiqi and you’ll be forever, therefore, you’re not allowed to get married,” Ajax explained, pouting when he saw Lumine snickering with no intention of stopping their daughter from her terrifying plan.

“But why?”

“You’ll get three storytimes later if you promise not to get married.”

“Four!”

“Deal. You got that on camera right, love?” Ajax turned to Lumine.

“Oh my god.” Lumine laughed but nodded, “Yeah, I did.”

“You heard that yourself future Qiqi,” Ajax said at the camera.

“Four stories, yay!” the little girl hummed, bouncing lightly as she coloured.

The rest of the evening went quietly, they do their routines, Qiqi falling asleep midway through her first story, and now Ajax and Lumine are cuddling on their bed, the blonde having her back against her lover’s chest while his hands trace random shapes on her hip.

“What are you thinking about?” Lumine asked as she turned to face Ajax.

“Just you walking down the aisle dressed like the goddess you are.” he grinned.

“Really now?” Lumine raised an eyebrow, but Ajax can still see the smile she’s hiding.

“Well, trying to imagine what’s underneath the dress but it doesn’t sound as romantic now, does it?” Ajax teased, earning a playful smack from Lumine.

“It sounds more honest at least,” she retorted back with a playful smile.

“Now I can’t stop thinking of it…”

Lumine can feel something poking her leg, “Stop, it’s a surprise!” she huffed.

“That doesn’t help, love, now I’m more curious.” he groaned as he buried his face against her neck.

“There’s a reason why it’s called a surprise, you know.” Lumine rolled her eyes but still tilted her head to give him space.

“A small preview would be nice though…” he said suggestively before giving her neck a soft nibble.

“Hm, I guess a small sneak peek is fi-”

Lumine didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence for her fiancé just dived in for his meal.

~~~

“Rain, rain, go away. Come again another day, little Qiqi wants to play…” Qiqi sang softly as she traces the raindrops on the car window.

“It looks like it’ll be raining for the whole day.” Lumine observed the sky, “Qiqi, if it’s still raining when school’s done, just stay over Granny Shan’s toy store and I’ll pick you up, okay?”

“Can Qiqi have a new toy?” Qiqi gasped in excitement.

“If you’re a good girl for Granny Shan, then Papa will buy you one.” Ajax chuckled at the sparkle in Qiqi’s eyes.

Qiqi nodded before humming again, this time, livelier as she starts to think of what toy she would want.

“It’s nice we have someone to watch over Qiqi, we might be a little busy today since we’re in charge of the sweets for an event. I’ll make sure to bring Granny Shan something when I pick Qiqi up.” Lumine says as she looked at the notes on her phone to prepare for today.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that, babe.” Ajax hummed as he slowed the car in front of Qiqi’s school rather than the bakery, “Fix your raincoat, sweetie, Papa will walk you to school.” he said then waited for the little girl to follow his order.

“Give Mama a kiss and have fun at school, okay?” Lumine smiled.

“Okay! Qiqi’s gonna do her bestest!” the little girl responded before giving Lumine a kiss.

Ajax prepared the umbrella before stepping out of the car to get his daughter.

Lumine hummed and waited in the car. She looked at the toy store across the street, “It looks like they’re opening.” she said as she watches someone in a raincoat and an umbrella try to push up the display barrier to reveal the contents of the shop.

Granny Shan did say someone was helping her run the shop, “Someone looking for his family, huh.” she remembered the old woman saying, though she didn’t get any more information than that, though she did remember the man being nice to Qiqi and buying her a present.

Lumine should also bring him something as a thank you later.

The car door opening pulled Lumine’s attention from the employee.

“Qiqi has her umbrella, right?” Lumine asked.

“Yup, I made sure she didn’t forget it this time,” Ajax answered as he settled inside the car, “Alright, let’s go,” he said as he drove off.

~~~

Zhongli sighed as he shrugs his raincoat off and placing it on the coat rack together with the umbrella. He’s glad he stopped Granny Shan from going outside to open the shop herself. It was a bit tough even for him to push the barriers up with the wind trying to blow his umbrella away, he doesn’t want to imagine how dangerous it would’ve been for her.

“I hope it won’t be raining as much later.” the old woman hummed as she observed the weather.

“The weather news said it’ll be raining but it would be lighter than this,” Zhongli said as he went on about his duties.

“Well, either way, Qiqi would be waiting here, her mother will pick her up later.” Granny Shan said, “Which is nice cause I would love to give her something for their wedding.”

“Wedding?” Zhongli raised his eyebrow.

“Ah yes, turns out the couple isn’t married yet. Qiqi isn’t biologically the groom’s but she was raised by him when her father died from an accident.” the woman explained.

“That’s an unfortunate accident.” Zhongli frowned.

“Ah it was, but her groom is a great man, he said her deceased husband was his best friend, while it may sound controversial, I think it’s great that he takes good care of them, you can see how dedicated and loving he is when it comes to his family.” Granny Shan chuckled, “Maybe you should visit the bakery sometimes, it would be more fun to socialise with people your age than just an old lady like me.” she teased.

“Don’t be like that, I quite enjoy our conversation.” the brunette replied, “But I think it would be nice to meet them, maybe they can help me in searching for my own family.”

“Ah, that would be great as well.” Granny Shan replied, “Well, I’ll go ahead and make us some tea to warm us up.” she said before leaving to the kitchen.

Zhongli hum before continuing his tasks.

~~~

It was five hours after Qiqi’s done with school.

Five hours of Qiqi waiting for her Mama.

And Qiqi is starting to get a little fussy.

By this time, Qiqi would have taken a nap in the private room of the bakery, she would’ve woken up refreshed and would be playing with her Uncles now.

She doesn’t even remember the promise of a new toy, she just wants to go home and sleep.

Granny Shan had offered the sofa in their living room, but Qiqi isn’t comfortable with napping somewhere else than the comfort of familiarity their bakery gives. Even if she knows Granny Shan and Mr Zhongli are good people, she just wants her Mama and Uncles nearby.

Zhongli frowns as Qiqi rejects another snack from him, while Qiqi did have a packed lunch with her, he thought that some sweets will brighten her mood, but all he was getting was a no and a frustrated tired face from the girl.

“Hm, it’s barely raining outside now, why don’t you just walk Qiqi there?” Granny Shan said.

Qiqi perked up at the suggestion, looking at Zhongli with tired and pleading eyes.

“Yeah, I think it would be a great idea, the little one is tired and I think she’d be more comfortable resting with her family.” Zhongli nodded.

Qiqi’s eye lightened, she nodded in agreement before standing up to follow Zhongli.

“Alright, be careful, bye Qiqi.” Granny Shan waved.

Having been in a good mood again, Qiqi smiled and waved, “Bye-bye, GrannyShan!” before grabbing Zhongli’s hand.

It took Zhongli by surprise, he wasn’t offering his hand but it seemed to be a habit of the little girl, which isn’t that bad, it’s safer that way and he’s glad her parents thought her that.

Also for some reason, it gives him a huge sense of comfort.

Gently grabbing Qiqi’s hand and an umbrella, they made their way.

~~~

“Oh my god, I hope Qiqi is fine.” Lumine said as she frantically shoved her things in her purse, “We were so busy no one can come to get her, I couldn’t even prepare something for Granny Shan.”

“Baby, calm down.” Ajax sighed as he wrapped his arms around his stressed lover, hugging her from the back “Qiqi’s in good hands and you guys did amazing for the event, you should rest for a bit,” he said softly before kissing the side of her head.

While Lumine is shy with public display of affection, there is no customer to tend since the bakery was closed early, most of the employees left, Xiao was at the kitchen making sure to clean the last bit before locking up the back then heading home, and Aether had left to pick Keqing up from work. It’s just the two of them in front of the shop, Lumine having cleaned up the counter and tables when Ajax arrived.

“You know how Qiqi is when she doesn’t get her nap, she’s going to be a nightmare to take care of later.” the blonde dreaded.

Ajax chuckled, turned her around and lifted her up to sit her on the table, “I’ll be with you, don’t worry, we’ll handle our little tantrum monster, okay?” he smiled with an Eskimo kiss.

The exact thing Lumine needs to calm down, she smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, “How are you always so bright even after work.” she pouted at him.

“Let’s say messing with a certain midget is a great stress reliever.” Ajax grinned mischievously.

“You know one day, you’re gonna get in trouble for pissing him so much at work.” Lumine deadpanned.

“Eh, I only mess with him when it’s a slow day so I’m not disrupting anything at work. Though it had become a game for everyone to bet on who’s gonna fall for whose prank, I have a winning streak of 4 if you’re curious.”

“If our kids become little shits, you’re sleeping on the fucking sofa.” Lumine threatened, though there’s a playful hint in her eyes.

“Such a harsh punishment, love, how will I pass on my legacy?” Ajax faked frowned.

“What legacy? Being a little shit to Scaramouche?” Lumine teased as she poked his cheeks.

“Well, I was thinking our kids vs his, you know? A worthy opponent, their battle will be legendary!”

Lumine laughed, “Ajax, no!”

Ajax grinned, glad that his lover is in a much brighter mood. The talk about their future kids had also brightened him up with excitement, he can imagine Qiqi being the best big sister she can be with the future little ones that’ll be running around their house.

Speaking of which, he should start looking for some renovation plans to handle a bigger family in their home.

A text notified Lumine. She checked her phone and sighed in relief, “Well, looks like Granny Shan sent her employee to walk Qiqi here.”

Ajax hummed before burying his face against her neck, “That’s great, ‘cause I’m feeling comfortable like this.”

“You’re gonna make the man uncomfortable, Ajax.” Lumine pointed out how intimate they look but nonetheless brushed her fingers through his hair.

“Eh, should be expected with a soon to be wed couple.” Ajax shrugged not moving except lifting his face to rest his forehead against hers.

Lumine just chuckled and welcomed the comfort.

“Mama, Papa, Qiqi’s here! Look, Mister, that’s Qiqi’s Mama and Papa!”

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #253: CONQUERING VISION

March, 1985

The Vision vs. Quasimodo... in the heart of a machine!

ITS A ROBOT RUMBLE

ON THE INTERNET!

The Avengers seem very perturbed. Or maybe they’ve placed bets and are yelling at each other.

Anyway. Anyyyyyywayyyy.

Last time on Avengers: Vision became confined to a tube and was only fixed when Starfox hooked him up to Titan’s supercomputer ISAAC. While it helped Vision fix himself, it also seems to have changed his personality. Vision began conspiring with ISAAC to build a take-over-the-world-for-its-own-good device so he could take over the world for its own good and erase the evils and inequalities of man.

Vision was hesitant to pull the trigger on becoming a well-intentioned extremist and tried to gain power and influence by becoming the Avengers chairman and trying to make them more prominent with a branch team and closer ties to the White House.

But when anti-mutant arsonists burn down Vision and Scarlet Witch’s house during a new wave of anti-mutant fear, Vision decides ‘mmm yup, taking over the world time’. He distracts the Avengers by sending them to babysit the army as they poke Thanos technology that they shouldn’t poke and accidentally summon the Blood Brothers. And distracts Captain Marvel to go check out Thanos’ ship several light hours away past Pluto. Black Knight shows up unexpectedly but Vision shoves him into a tube to keep him out of trouble.

And now I guess Vision is going to fight Quasimodo the robot guy? Not sure how that fits in.

But first, some West Coast Avengers!

Like I said last time, they didn’t stop doing stuff just because their book is over.

Mockingbird happens to run into some drug runners while getting in some flight practice and figures heck why not beat up an entire boat full of gun-toting people as a light workout.

I guess the Quinjet can hover? Doesn’t seem to have thrusters or repulsors on the bottom or be a VTOL but hey, super advanced possibly Wakanda tech. It can do what it likes.

Mockingbird turns the drug runners over to the Coast Guard and returns to Palos Verdes and even gets to fly into one of those cool cliffside hangers disguised as a perfectly normal cliff. The West Coast Avengers revamped the hell out of the compound they bought.

Can you even legally excavate into a cliff like that? You can if you’re a superhero, I guess.

For some reason, there’s a fakeout where its implied Tigra is licking herself, cat style, but she’s just stretching. At least I hope the joke is that it sounded like she was cat cleaning herself and not something else.

One can never tell.

Anyway, I assume Hawkeye is just annoyed that he’s going to be vacuuming hair out of expensive equipment banks later. But really its that what if he threw a meeting and only he and Tigra came?

Mockingbird comes in not long after Hawkeye complains, slightly delayed from beating up drug runners. Wonder Man comes in shortly after, delayed by

FASHION

You know, this is a pretty great costume for Wonder Man. Its what all his modern outfits are based on when he’s not just dicks out energy man. I think I like the red jacket outfit more because being the only guy who dresses in ‘normal’ clothes while still looking somehow out of fashion with normal people fits for Wonder Man.

But I do love this one too. Its got a simple charm. Deciding that Wonder Man’s colors are black and red instead of Christmas green and red was a great decision and I’m sure that nobody will ever try to put him in red and green again.

Hawkeye grouses “Next, I suppose Iron Man will show up with a new chrome job!” but Iron Man is Sir Not Appearing in This Comic.

And the reason why is... looks like Tony and Rhodey are beating the crap out of each other in Iron Men armor this same month in Iron Man #192.

I don’t know the details but dammit Tony!

Anyway, over at last issue’s plot, the Avengers are still in Thanos’ ex-secret base in Arizona, still rolling their eyes and smh at the US Army for poking things what should not be poked.

Starfox and Scarlet Witch find a chamber blocked by rubble which has a symbio-nullifier which Starfox proposes to use to symbio-nullify the Blood Brothers.

First, he flexes on the US Army.

Army Guy: “It must weigh tons!”

Starfox: “Tons? Yes. But only about eight-and-a-half! Hardly any bother at all!”

Good flexing, Starfox.

Meanwhile, Captain America’s scolding has born fruit. The Pentagon has agreed to seal Thanos’ base, pending further investigation. And Colonel Farnam agrees because his training never prepared him to deal with MONSTERS FROM OUTER SPACE.

Also meanwhile, the army took pity on Hercules’ poor pantsless state and slash or were intimidated by it and have lent him a uniform.

He wears it as you’d expect Hercules to wear it.

With plenty of plunging neckline.

Since the Blood Brothers have a psionic link which makes them stronger the closer they are, Hercules has chained them up on very distant parts of the base.

But this precaution is rendered moot pretty quickly when Starfox returns with the  symbio-nullifier to symbio-nullify the Blood Brothers.

Starfox suspected that Thanos had one of these lying around as a precaution if he was going to let the Blood Brothers into his base.

Hercules lightly complains that he didn’t get a good fight with the Blood Brothers especially since the hordes of Muspell and Maelstrom’s wacky minions were interesting but not all that much of a challenge for the prince of power.

Back at the Avengers Mansion, the giant holographic head of Vision is still dealing with Dane Black Knight Whitman. Mostly by showing him video footage of how the other Avengers are tied up.

Dane is confused for multiple reasons, including that when last he heard Wasp was the leader.

Vision: “My failure to anticipate your arrival was an unfortunate lapse. I regret that, as a result, you must suffer the indignity of incarceration.”

Dane: “But... why?! What does keeping me in a tube accomplish?”

Vision: “It prevents you from interfering! You see, I have come to the conclusion that the only way I can fulfill my duty to make the Earth a safer place... is to run it myself!”

Dane: “What?!? But that’s crazy! Uh... I mean, you can’t possibly...”

Vision: “Exactly the sort of reaction I expected!”

Vision: ‘See, this is why you’re a tube boy now.’

Vision turns off the hologram saying that Dane will understand when its all over.

As usual when somebody says something like that, Dane isn’t reassured, just more convinced he needs to break out and warn someone.

I’m not sure if its not already too late since Vision is safely ensconced in his take over the world chair in his secret take over the world room.

ISAAC’s head hologram shows up to Vision and asks him what the delay is, chop chop get to taking over the world for its own good.

Vision: “Sorry, ISAAC... I was just remembering how much I enjoyed having a body.”

Oh my god.

ISAAC: “What’s the sense of that? This entire world will soon be your ‘body’! How can the mobility of a single humanoid form compare to that?”

Vision: “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, ISAAC. It’s odd, though, so many times others have controlled my body... the robot Ultron, the Mad Thinker, Necrodamus... All have tried to subvert my mind and take me over. And now here am I... about to initiate the greatest takeover of all. One would almost think there were some mad connection -- !”

ISAAC: “Vision! You must not tarry!”

.................. Um, okay. So, rather than just being influenced by his brush with death and also brush with supercomputer, I think Vision is being actively manipulated into this by ISAAC.

I don’t know why but I do know that Vision continues being a viable character for decades so he probably can’t be burning all his bridges here.

Anyway, Vision uploads his psyche into the internet.

And like immediately starts taking over everything. One page montage immediately. The Pentagon, Cheyenne Mountain, SHIELD, satellites, the Kremlin.

Presumably the best security systems in the world barely warrant a mention for Vision’s mighty synthezoid brain.

He’s pulling a Skynet (for the world’s own good, so he says) and its barely an effort.

The scenery of being on the internet is, I dunno, pretty standard? Bright colors  and dashes of light? I feel like I’ve seen it a lot of places.

But if we’re on page 13 of a book and Vision is effortlessly Skynetting, whats the rest of the issue going to be about? Interestingly, to me anyway, despite this being Vision’s turn villainous or well-intentioned extremist, another villain gets shoved in anyway for him to fight.

As Vision is nyooming around the Kremlin’s computers, he nearly runs into another AI, Quasimodo.

Helpfully, we get a recap of Quasimodo’s ENTIRE LIFE STORY because this is pre-fan wikis and I don’t think Quasimodo has appeared in Avengers before.

He was created to be the ultimate computer by the Mad Thinker but was abandoned when he developed a mind of his own.

Quasimodo was found by the Silver Surfer who used the cosmic powers of the Power Cosmic to transform Quasimodo from a computer into a robot.

Turning to the wiki for more information: He turns on Silver Surfer because he doesn’t like the body he got, so Surfer turns him into a stone gargoyle. Let that be a lesson about ingratitude.

Somehow, he stopped being a gargoyle and fought various people until he was defeated by the Fantastic Four and the Sphinx and wound up a disembodied intelligence in a Russian computer system. And here we are!

Quasimodo begs Vision to help him escape this digital hellhole but Vision just turns and leaves because he doesn’t have time for these shenanigans. And also because he knows Quasimodo is a villain who tends to turn on the people who help him so fuck that.

Quasimodo: “You know of my past - of my power - and you still would dare deny me?! There can be but one name for such as you... and that is fool!”

He then hauls off and punches Vision. Because they’re both digital intelligences on the internet they can punch each other and have a fight scene. That’s how internet works.

That’s why Mega Man X can beat up so many people in cyberspace.

Quasimodo says if Vision doesn’t help him get back to the physical world, he’ll destroy him.

Vision: “Now, listen to me... I am consolidating all computers worldwide. I gave up my own physical body to do this, and I’ll not tolerate any interference from the likes of you!”

Quasimodo: “You willingly abandoned your body?! You’re not a fool... you’re mad!”

Faced with an irreconcilable set of priorities, Quasimodo trips them both into “the irresistible currents of the IMPULSE VORTEX!”

Sure. That sounds like how internet works.

Meanwhile, over at Pluto is very far away, Monica Marvel nyooms past the moons of Uranus. Apparently her visual acuity is REALLY good because she takes in the scenery while she’s nyooming and finds it frighteningly beautiful out in the outer planets.

Anyway, Vision scolds Quasimodo for plunging them into a torrent. Which makes me laugh. Surely its too soon for torrents to be a thing. He’s just using it in a metaphorical sense.

Quasimodo tries to shoot EYE BEAM at Vision, which misses the digital synthezoid but obliterates an electron.

In a cutaway that would be at home in a Marvel movie, the scene briefly shifts to a Soviet computing center and a guy named Alexey complaining that his program just crashed.

Quasimodo does Vision some punches but Vision decides to start trying since Quasimodo’s attacks risk alerting people that something is amiss on the internet. And Vision’s powers work just as well on the internet as Quasimodo’s do. In fact, screw that, they work better! Vision just gets more and more powerful the longer he spends on the internet!

Vision: “You might have slain me earlier, but now this world is mine -- and there is no place in it for you!!”

And at Vision’s command the internet launches Quasimodo from Earth itself.

The internet can do that.

Meanwhile, back at Avenger’s Mansion, Dane Whitman determines that the tube he’s a tube boy in may look like glass but its as strong as steel. He’s not punching his way out of here.

But his recently uncursed cursed sword (the curse never stays not cursed for long so I hope Dane enjoys having a notcursed but very enchanted sword) is just a few feet away with the rest of his luggage. And there’s a mystic bond between himself and the sword so if he just thinks about the sword hard enough, surely it’ll manifest in his hand.

Like the Force but slightly more convenient.

Dane Whitman: Nothing’s happening. Must not... be concentrating hard enough! Maybe the link was broken with the curse. No... no, I mustn’t even think that! I need my sword! I must have my sword! I must!

He do it!

The Notcursed Ebony Sword appears in his hand and he slices through that steel glass like its just glass.

Meanwhile, over at Arizona, the Avengers finish up nullifying the Blood Brothers and putting them in suspended animation, or if you prefer, naptime timeout.

Captain America receives a buzz from Hawkeye who wonders what he’s doing within hailing range, ie in the western half of the US.

Captain America: “Arizona... government business... And I’m as surprised to hear you, as you are me! I take it that your team finished its mission in the Pacific early!”

Hawkeye: “Mission? What are you talking about, Cap? We haven’t been on any mission!”

Which is a dun dun dun considering their whole reason for being sent on this mission was that the West Coast Avengers were ostensibly busy.

And Vision lying about that raises a whole lot of questions for the Avengers.

Cap and Wanda Witch rush over to the Quinjet and contact the Mansion.

Vision: “Then you’re aware of my deception. I... am sorry, Cap. I didn’t want to mislead you, but I felt it necessary to carry out my plan.”

Scarlet Witch: “Plan? Vision, what do you mean? What have you done?”

Vision: “I... well, there is no easy way to put this... But I have taken over the world.”

You never want to hear “I have taken over the world” from a friend, unless its followed with “and I want to get you in on the ground floor of this exciting new opportunity.”

Vision promises the two that he’s taking over all of Earth’s computers for a really good reason like ending war and strife. And signs off by telling Wanda everything will be alright and that he loves her.

Aww?

Cap: “He meant it... he meant every word.”

Scarlet Witch: “He’d been upset lately, but I never thought... Cap, we have to stop him!”

Cap: “Yes. If there’s still time!”

DUN DUN DUN!

Follow @essential-avengers​ because I don’t know when I’ve been more excited to get to the next issue! Like and reblog?

[dreamiehrs]

a Christmas miracle ➛ z.cl

genre: fluff, comedy/crack, bestfriend!chenle, gender neutral reader, hurt/comfort somewhat

pairing: zhong chenle x reader

word count: 2,588 words

warning(s): some swearing

summary: Christmas had been the same old same old holiday for you and your family for plenty of years now, fully embracing the tradition of meeting up with family, exchanging presents, and enjoying each other’s presence on Christmas day. however, this year seemed to feel quite different, with your family quite literally forgetting that Christmas even existed, and with you all stuck in your apartment alone in the snowy city, you weren’t so sure what you were going to do for Christmas this year. unbeknownst to you, though, your sneaky best friend had a trick up his sleeve, and he was determined to make this Christmas one you’ll remember forever.

note: this is a part of mylin’s @suh-insane​ and sunny’s @neocitybynight​ Walking in a Winter Wonderland collab! this is my first time participating in a collab solely for Christmas, so I hope you all enjoy this fic of mine! Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it! I hope you all have an amazing and safe Christmas this year, and I just wanted to let you all know that I appreciate and love you guys so so SO much! (and to the people who don’t celebrate it, I still hope you all have a wonderful day nonetheless!)

prompts chosen: “when we finally kiss goodnight how I’ll hate going out in the storm! but if you’ll really hold me tight all the way home I’ll be warm.” + “that’s what Christmas memories are made from. they’re not planned; they’re not scheduled. nobody puts them in their blackberry. they just happen.”

for the past few months, time seemed to fly by without leaving a trace behind, and before you knew it, it was already Christmas day. if it was any other year, you would’ve woken up earlier, around 6 AM to be precise, and start your trek to your parents house with their gifts in hand. however, since your parents and the rest of your family got caught up in other ordeals, and quite literally forgot that Christmas even existed, you had woken up quite later than 6 AM. 9 AM, if you were being specific.

you had still bought your family presents for Christmas, of course, and took the time to wrap them and spiffy them up yourself with various different kinds of Christmas wrapping paper you’ve collected over the years as a pro wrapper (in actuality, it was just your mother giving you extra wrapping paper when she accidentally bought too much, so you weren’t entirely a pro wrapper, per se). what you were trying to say is that you put a lot of thought into buying and decorating presents for your family, and you were sort of down about how you wouldn’t be able to give them their presents in person this year.

basically, what you were trying to get across is that you quite literally had no plans for Christmas this year, and you were probably going to spend your entire day wailing away in your apartment.

nonetheless, you pulled yourself out of bed after being in deep thought for thirty minutes straight, and decided to actually not wail away in your apartment for the rest of the day. it was time to be festive, you thought to yourself, as you slowly made your way around your room to move your curtains aside to let some sunlight seep in. although you were in a brooding mood, you didn’t entirely want your room to reflect that.

you huff to yourself as you slide your feet against the carpet floor, swinging open your closet doors and glancing over all of your clothes, none of them really catching your attention. you sigh before closing both of your closet doors dramatically, turning around and heading towards your dresser. you can faintly hear your phone buzz on your nightstand as you pull on one of the knobs on one of your dresser drawers that contains your pajama pants. you grab a random pair of snug pajama pants and opt to keep the same pajama shirt you wore to bed last night on before heading to the bathroom to change.

after taking some time to get dressed and brush your teeth, you finally exit your bathroom and toss the pajama shorts you wore last night in your hamper. you snatch your phone and stash it in your pocket before making your way towards your miniature kitchen. you promptly grab your kettle and fill it up with water, waiting for it to reach the third line before placing it on your stove. you move the dial until its exactly on high temperature, and you’re about to start to make yourself breakfast until you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

fed up with how active your phone had been for the past thirty minutes, you finally fish your phone out of your pocket and lean against the counter next to your stove.

your phone contained the usual notifications, such as Instagram likes, Team Snapchat sending you a Christmas snap, your best friend chenle spamming your phone- wait, your best friend chenle spamming your phone? that was FAR from your usual notifications, and you were honestly quite surprised that he was contacting you on Christmas day this year. he’s usually spending it with his family all day, and never texts you back until he gets back home, which is around eight PM.

without thinking, you unlock your phone and tap on the messages icon, and your jaw almost drops when you see how many messages he sent you within the past few hours. since 6 AM, chenle has sent you over one hundred messages, and for once, you were grateful that you were a heavy sleeper, because if you were a light sleeper and woke up to every single one of his messages, you would’ve lost your mind.

you [9:45 AM]: please chenle what do you WANT FROM ME

lele the dumdum [9:45 AM]: WOW YOU’VE FINALLY WOKEN UP FROM UR DEEP SLUMBER

lele the dumdum [9:45 AM]: I THOUGHT U WERE NEVER GOING TO WAKE UP

lele the dumdum [9:46 AM]: took u long enough smh

you [9:46 AM]: ...is this really how you’re going to treat me on Christmas day??

lele the dumdum [9:46 AM]: I treat you like this all the time. what makes you think that today’s gonna be any different?

you [9:47 AM]: …

lele the dumdum [9:47 AM]: anyways… MY GORGEOUS WONDERFUL BESTIE WHAT DO U HAVE PLANNED FOR CHRISTMAS TODAY

lele the dumdum [9:48 AM]: DO ANY OF UR PLANS INVOLVE ME POTENTIALLY COMING OVER??? O.O

you [9:48 AM]: is this why you’ve been spamming my phone SINCE 6 AM!?!?!

you [9:48 AM]: also why were you awake at 6 am anyways

you [9:49 AM]: did your crush finally text you back or are you still drowning in loneliness like usual

lele the dumdum [9:50 AM]: I don’t even have a crush??? who told you that false information

you [9:50 AM]: the little elves running around my house whispered it in my ear last night

lele the dumdum [9:51 AM]: I think you’re going to delusional

you [9:51 AM]: I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case at this point

lele the dumdum [9:51 AM]: MOVING ON

lele the dumdum [9:52 AM]: WHAT DO U HAVE PLANNED

lele the dumdum [9:52 AM]: I NEED TO KNOW THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT

you [9:53 AM]: me planning to wail in sorrow all day is very important to you??

lele the dumdum [9:53 AM]: ...excuse me what?? UR GOING TO WAIL IN SORROW ALL DAY ON CHRISTMAS DAY!?!?

lele the dumdum [9:54 AM]: this is not acceptable. I am coming over right now to spread some of my FESTIVENESS AND JOLLINESS with you :D

you [9:55 AM]: chenle you really don’t have to-

lele the dumdum [9:55 AM]: TOO BAD IM OMW RN AS WE SPEAK

you [9:56 AM]: at least bring some festivities, games, and snacks with you 🙄

lele the dumdum [9:56 AM]: oh shit you have a point

lele the dumdum [9:57 AM]: BRB ILL BE THERE IN 30

you knew that once chenle had made his mind up about something, he wasn’t going to change it that easily, so it would be futile to try and stop him now. you don't bother replying to his last message, and you shove your phone back in your pocket a few moments before your kettle whistles. you move on from chenle tormenting you for twelve minutes straight and make yourself some tea and breakfast instead.

it was now around 10:30 AM, and you had just finished digesting your breakfast when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket again. you were lying down on your small, beige couch, with your cold tea sat on the coffee table a few feet away. you were still in your pajamas, with no intent of changing into actual clothes anytime soon.

once again, you fish your phone out of your pocket to see what nonsense chenle was texting you this time.

lele the dumdum [10:31 AM]: open up, bitch

you [10:31 AM]: I thought I gave you a spare key??

lele the dumdum [10:32 AM]: shit I forgot it

lele the dumdum [10:32 AM]: anyways OPEN UP

you lazily lift yourself up from off of your couch, grasping your mug of cold tea on the way to the door. you take your time unlocking your door, halfly because you felt like annoying chenle, and halfly because you were just over today in general.

the first thing that stands out to you once you swing open your front door is how different your outfit looks compared to chenle. he was all bundled up with plenty of layers to keep him warm while adventuring the city, and meanwhile you adorned white and pink striped pajamas with socks on. you also noticed that he had a dark grey bookbag on his back, and was holding two full bags in his hands.

the two of you stare at each other for a few more seconds until chenle breaks the silence with: “I think this is the most I’ve seen you look like a complete old person. there have been other times, but the old person persona is just jumping out at me right now.”

you roll your eyes. “don’t say that when you yourself have dressed up as an old person before.”

“yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off, passing by you to slip his shoes off and to take off his five hundred layers. “it doesn’t matter whether you look like an old person, it mainly matters whether you have the spirit of an old person, you know?”

“I cannot comprehend your words this early in the morning. we can have a conversation about whether I act like an old person later.” you say as you watch him remove his large, dark green jacket and place it onto your coat rack. you can hear him scoff at your remark, and you grin as you see the corners of his mouth lift up slightly.

“early in the morning? y/n it’s only-” he pauses to check his phone “10:32 AM. that’s early for you?”

“I woke up at 9 AM, you dum.”

“oh,” he swivels around to face you after taking his shoes off and removing all of his additional layers. “makes sense, I guess. you’ve only been awake for an hour and a half, so you’re probably not fully awake yet. I mean, I’ve been awake since 6 am, and I’m bursting with energy compared to you.”

you give him a deadpan expression in response to what he said, and he can’t help but burst out laughing at your reaction. he steps up beside you and pats your shoulder gently. “well, besides that, I’m gonna be the one who helps you burst with energy like I am right now! follow me!” he whisper-shouts a few inches away from your ear, and you can feel his hand leave your shoulder and grasp your right hand in a matter of seconds.

he leads you back towards your couch, and even somehow manages to help you set your mug down even though he has bags in his hands. the two of you plop down on your couch, and you almost melt at how soft and comfortable your couch was. you closed your eyes for a few seconds as chenle rustled through his bags beside you, and you don’t know how much time has passed when chenle starts to snap his fingers at you.

“y/n, I am not going to deal with your sleepy ass right now. I spent around forty minutes scurrying around the city to find things to lift your mood, and I am not going to let those forty minutes go to waste just because you’re tired.”

you groan and roll to the other side, facing away from chenle. “just five more minutes…”

surprisingly, you’re met by silence in response to your wish of wanting five more minutes of rest, but that silence doesn’t last when you feel something cold touch your face.

you screech and immediately open your eyes to witness chenle pressing an ice cube onto your forehead. you swat the ice cube off of your forehead as quick as you can, and stare up at chenle like he’s gone completely mad. “what was that for?”

he grins proudly. his plan had worked. “awake now? great. now, help me figure out what we should do first.”

“I think you’ve gone mad. I cannot believe you just woke me up by pressing an ice cube onto my forehead.” you complain, still feeling the coldness of the ice cube on your forehead. when you finally move to face him now, you see that he had brought plenty of things for you two to entertain yourselves.

“I could’ve done worse things, like dip my hand into freezing water and press it against your face, but I was feeling generous today, so I decided to spare you the pain.”

you scoff. “right. anyways, what’d you bring?”

he glances at you excitedly before getting into it. “well, I brought plenty of snacks, some fizzy drinks, some board games, some movies I rented that we could watch together, some candy, etc. I honestly brought everything that I thought you would like with me, so I really hope all of this is enough to make your Christmas day a little bit more festive. I may have also bought you a present, but besides that… let’s get this party started! ...y/n?”

he tears his gaze away from the couch to up to your face, and you don’t entirely register that you’re crying until a few minutes after staring into his eyes. “oh, I’m sorry… I just… I’m just really grateful that you decided to come all this way to cheer me up on Christmas day, and you brought so many things with you as well to make me feel better so… thank you, chenle.”

he beams at you even though he can feel a tear threatening to fall from his left eye, and instead of letting you see him cry as well, he quickly wraps his arms around your figure, bringing you into a tight hug. “of course, y/n. you know I’d do anything for you, right? if you’re down, I’m going to cheer you up in some way, shape, or form, and if you feel like watching the world burn, then I’ll be right by your side.”

“awh, stop it, you’re going to make me cry even more.” you faintly hit his back with your hand, and he giggles as a few tears fall down his face.

the two of you stay like that for a good five more minutes, which is enough time for chenle to regain his composure and act like he didn’t shed a few tears in the process. he slowly leaves your grasp, taking a good look at your face and wiping some tears off of your face with his thumb. “you know what I think will make you feel better?”

you grin. “what?”

he smiles before swiveling around to rustle through his bookbag, and your eyes widen when you finally process what he’s up to.

the next moment happens so quickly you can barely register that it’s happening. chenle swivels around with two nerf guns in his hands, throws you one that lands perfectly in your arms, and declares: “me completely destroying you in a nerf gun battle will make you feel better.” before he releases fire on you.

you shriek as you run across your apartment, trying to avoid the plastic bullets that chenle was littering your apartment with. eventually, he does win the battle, and it does make you feel better in the end, but let’s not mention that or else his ego will run wild, alright?