#<- i mean kinda this is definitely inspired by the finale

[lazy-toad]

Maybe Bluster kept trying to eat Troy's shirt because he sensed something sinister was going on with him

[harpoonsnotspoons]

🤯🤯🤯 Robo hotties in your area

Fuck drawing wires. For a guy who has so many of them you'd think I'd be better at it

[witchywcmans]

PLEASE, EAT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ after you've been bitten by a sea serpent, you know the consequences are either death or the possibility of turning into one yourself. thankfully for you, laios touden is the devourer of all things monster and he is dedicated to getting that venom out of you. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ sex pollen-adjacent, cunnilingus + fingering, praise, breath play (kinda, if you squint), semi-public sex, multiple orgasms. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 3k

song inspiration ━━ too sweet, hozier / more than friends, isabel larosa

author's note ━━ this is the first time I've ever written and posted an x reader one-shot on here, so please be gentle with me lol. I usually only write x oc fics bc I'm a yapper and I love creating characters. but alas...I was perusing the laios x reader tag and wanted to read something with this plot, couldn't find it, so I figured I'd just do it myself 🫡

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

This was definitely one of the worst situations you’d been in.

You had joined Laios’ adventuring party just a few months prior. They had found you on floor 3 of the dungeon, shivering and mourning the loss of your father. His body, dead in your arms, and beside him lay the lifeless body of a ghoul you had killed. At first, the party’s leader, Laios Touden, had only been interested in taking the ghoul's body so they could use its bones for utensils after the flesh rotted off. But it was Marcille who noticed the tears in your eyes, how you trembled from the cold, and suggested they take you in. You almost declined, not wanting to leave your father’s body, but knowing he’d soon turned into a monster left you with only one option. Your father had been with you for the past twenty-five years of your life, and now, you were leaving his dead body in a dungeon to travel with a group of strangers.

You soon came to appreciate your new party, though, and you felt your father’s spirit within each of them. Marcille had his kindness, Chilchuck had a comparable wit, Senshi was gifted with excellent cooking skills, and Laios … well, you were still figuring that out. And surprisingly, it was Laios who you began to connect with the most. His knowledge of monsters was unmatched, and he had a passion for learning how to prepare them while they traveled deeper into the dungeon. He was overtly blunt, much like you, and possessed similar advanced fighting skills due to both your fathers' teachings.

Sometimes … sometimes though, you found yourself staring at him more than you should have. His face was abnormally perfect, as if he’d been carved by an artist. His tousled ash-blonde hair reminded you of a lion, and his eyes … sometimes you could’ve sworn they were made out of gold, shimmering like molten lava. Each time you thought this way, you smacked yourself when no one else was looking. I mean, Laios was your friend, your party leader. Having a crush, especially in circumstances like these, was unethical. You had always been focused on one thing: helping your party and making it out of this dungeon alive, for your father. You wouldn’t let a little crush deter you.

Everything had been all well and good until today, when you and your party reached the end of floor 4. When Laios had struggled to fight off a sea serpent, you joined him in the lukewarm water, using your crossbow to shoot the creature in the head. Finally, Laios was able to step in to slice the serpent’s head off … but not before the creature could snap its jaw, tearing one fang down your hip. You jumped back, screaming as you felt the venom seep into you instantly. Some said sea serpent venom would kill you immediately, others said it turned you into one of them, cursing you to haunt the waters with them as penance. As soon as the head was cut, Laios carried you away from the water, and the last thing you heard was Marcille cursing him out before you were rendered unconscious. 

You were woken up – hours, maybe days later – by a drop of water hitting your face every few seconds. Lifting your head from the makeshift tunic pillow, you took in your surroundings. You were at the entrance of floor 5, in a damp corner of cobblestone, while water dripped down onto the floor every so often. There was a moist bandage covering your side where the serpent’s fang had cut into you, part of your tunic ripped to shreds. Hunger boiled in your stomach, making you groan and rub your head. Laios was sitting just a few feet away, a small fire in front of him to keep warm. Marcille had to have helped him with that; there was no way to craft a fire in an area this damp.

“Am I dead?” You asked softly. 

Laios immediately turned in your direction, his mouth lifting in a smile. “Of course not.”

Your stomach did flip flops as you took in his smile, hunger consuming you. You needed something to eat – bad. Your body felt hot and sweaty, and you wondered if it was just from the humidity, even though Laios didn’t look affected. Sitting up, you informed him, “Well, that was one of two options my father said would happen from a sea serpent bite. Which means …” You lifted the bandage up, noticing the gills that started to form on the healing wound. A turquoise hue surrounded the gills, almost like a bruise. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered.

Laios stood, looming over you while asking, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s the other option,” you replied, too hungry to cry. “The bite is –”

“– Turning you into a sea serpent,” Laios finished. “Honestly, I thought that was just a myth. But when the bite didn’t kill you …” His mouth twitched, tongue darting out to wet the corners of his lips. “We have to suck the venom out. That has to stop the mutation.”

Your head snapped up. “Huh?” 

But as soon as your eyes met his, you started to wondered if what you were experiencing was hunger after all. Perhaps … a different kind of hunger. Laios stared down at you, the sparkling gold replaced by a dark hazel. It was just you two in this little corner of the dungeon, but you suddenly felt exposed, so naked, under his gaze. Your body was hot all over, sweat sticking to uncomfortable places. And your thighs … a burning need emerged between them, soaking the thin linen of your undergarments. This had to be a symptom of the bite, but it suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Your worry had been replaced by an ache that only he could fix.

No – absolutely not. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You were turning into a sea serpent.

But the need between your legs still throbbed.

“It’s like when a snake bites you on the surface,” Laios said, crouching down to your eye level. His closeness made your heart rate pick up. You realized then that he had shed his armor, kneeling in front of you in just his gambeson, which clung to his muscles and wide frame. “A sea serpent is part snake. Sucking out the venom should stop the mutation. You’ll probably experience symptoms from the bite for a few more hours, but they’ll stop eventually.” 

He started to peel back the bandage, taking a look at the gills forming on your hip when you gripped his wrist. Immediately, his skin burned, making you even more hot. You ripped your hand away from him, and with sweat trickling down the side of your face, you said, “Don’t you think this is … weird? Maybe Marcille should do it.”

“Marcille and the others just went back to another part of the level to find dinner. They won’t return for an hour, at least. This can’t wait.” He inspected the turquoise gills with concern, before his eyes snapped back to yours, noticing the way your black pupils filled almost the entire iris. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you. It’s just …” What exactly was the reason again? Oh, yes, it was pulsating hunger dripping between your legs from the bite, and you were terrified how you’d react the second his lips wrapped around your wound. The symptoms would just get worse. But he was right – this was the only way. Fuck, this had to be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever experienced. 

“Fine,” you finally relented, lying back down on the cobblestone. You did your best to get comfortable, but the makeshift pillow hardly provided much cushion between you and the floor.  “What should I do?”

“Nothing, just lay back and let me take care of it.” Laios lifted your tunic a smidge, and just the tenor of his voice made your ache even worse. “We’re just gonna … get this out of the way. And then …” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your pants, and you immediately clutched his collar. If you touched his skin again, you were sure to moan.

Laios looked from where your hand was gripping him and back to your eyes. “Your pants need to be off so I can have better access to the mutation. It’s on your hip.” You swallowed hard, knowing he was right, and your hand started to slip off his collar. “We’re friends, right?” He asked.

You nodded weakly.

“Good,” he smiled again, and you struggled to hold back a plea for him to touch you. He pulled down your pants, tossing them to the side. For a moment, he paused, taking in your soaked underwear and running his fingers over the mutation on your hip. He licked his lips again, and then said in a rather blunt tone, “You’re so –”

“Don’t say it,” you cut in, snapping your eyes shut to prevent further embarrassment.  Though you had never minded Laois’ occasional lack of social cues, this was one of those moments you needed anything but. “Just get the venom out.”

Laios tugged your underwear down a little to see if the mutation had spread. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he informed you, lowering his head to your hip. “I’ve read that these bites can have a multitude of internal symptoms. Nightmares ... sweating … fever …” He ran his tongue over the gills, making your breath hitch instantly. “… And especially, arousal. Neat, huh?” He chuckled, and just his warm breath on the gills made you even more wet. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he assured before finally wrapping his mouth on the wound.

Your body burned even hotter than before as soon as his lips touched your skin. He sucked the venom out of you, spitting out blue globs every other second. His hands gripped your side, digging into your flesh and leaving crescent shapes from his nails. As you felt the gills start to close up, you couldn’t help but moan and arch into nothing. This felt better than any time you masturbated … any time you imagined your party leader above you … Fuck, who would’ve thought sucking sea serpent venom out of you would feel this good? Thank the gods the rest of their party was off catching dinner. You couldn’t deal with them possibly hearing this.

It surprised you when your orgasm flooded through you like a crashing wave. As Laios finished sucking out the last of the venom and the mutation closed, your arousal came to a definite peak and you let out a whine. You grabbed his arm, cumming from absolutely no stimulation.

Laios didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he was mostly preoccupied with inspecting the area. You opened your eyes, your cheeks tinged pink, and saw the globs of venom to the left dissipate to nothing but water. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I –”

“The mutation closed. I was right!” Laios looked down at you, a big grin covering his face. “How do you feel?”

“Well, I definitely don’t feel a second set of lungs on my hip anymore.” You lifted your hand when you noticed a trickle of blue staining his lip, wiping it away with your thumb. “But I … my body is still …” The ache inside you had simmered slightly, but it was still there, lingering underneath the surface. 

This was genuinely humiliating. Maybe you should’ve just decided to turn into a sea serpent after all.

Laios grabbed your wrist before you could pull away from his face. He leaned into your palm, running his long nose down to your inner wrist. “Your skin is so warm. I can still smell how aroused you are from the serpent bite.” His eyes burned into yours, keeping your hand close to his face. “I can help. Do you need another release?”

Your cheeks got even more red when he acknowledged your orgasm. Shaking your head, you said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can just –”

“I’d be honored to,” he replied, quite gruffly and persistent. His fingers tugged your underwear down with precision and ease, despite the damp fabric clinging to you. He spread your legs wide and placed them on his shoulders. Lowering himself down, he inhaled the scent of your climax and hooked his arms around your inner thighs. He smiled up at you – your pretty face red with embarrassment – all dopey-eyed and grateful. “You lot like to call me the devourer of monsters. Perhaps I should devour the last bit of monster out of you.”

He inhaled again, groaning like he typically did when he was hungry. His hot breath against your achingly wet pussy made you whimper with desperation. “You smell so good down here,” he whispered. “I’d wager you taste even better.”

You gasped as soon as he dove between your legs, licking a stripe through your folds, tasting your recent orgasm. He flicked his tongue over your clit before sucking on it with feverish excitement. Slick gathered on his tongue and he whined, needing more. So much more. You were the most delicious meal he’d ever tasted. Better than any monster, better than anything on the surface. 

“So good,” he muttered into your pussy, lapping against your clit, doing anything that would get him more of your arousal. “You taste so, so good.”

You whimpered out his name and attempted to close your legs, but he held them opened with all his strength. His arms wrapped around your thighs went tight, bruising the sensitive flesh. Your jaw went slack while your own hands scrambled for purchase, eventually landing in his cropped hair. You tugged, hips bucking against his face, making him groan even more. This allowed him to hold your hips a little higher, and his tongue finally dipped into your leaking entrance. You heard him grunt the second he plunged his tongue deeper, his nose nuzzling your clit. 

He devoured you like a starved man. He devoured you like you were a boiled scorpion, or roast basilisk, or – even better – like sweet, delicious homemade cheesecake. 

“Laios,” you whined, feeling your fever dissolve with each lap of his tongue. “Laios, it’s … fuck – it’s okay, I feel –”

“Need more,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with need. He was practically humping the stone floor as he buried his tongue as far as it could go inside you. Your hips couldn’t stop bucking forward, riding his face as you felt your orgasm building at the base of your stomach. Laios was completely transfixed. He wanted to be here, nestled between your thighs, for every meal. He’d take you away from the rest of the group before dinner, lapping away to the sounds of your pleas and whimpers, so help him gods. He’d do this every day, every night, whenever you wanted, for as long as he was alive. Fuck monsters. He could survive off the taste of you for the rest of his life.

Slipping his tongue out of your hole, he went back to sucking on your throbbing clit and feeling your legs start to tremble. You had to be close to another release, and he was desperate to taste it. He paid all his attention on your clit, snaking one hand up and sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your entrance in tandem. “Fuck,” you moaned, tugging on his hair once again, “fuck – gods, Laios. I – I’m s-so close –”

“Please,” he begged, smearing your slick all over his mouth. “Please, you’re so good. Need to see how you taste when you release on my tongue.” His own hips continued to buck against the floor.

You choked on a cry when you finally came all over his tongue. He groaned, loud and drawn out, when he finally got a taste of your sweet climax, knowing that it was him that brought you to this point. The orgasm felt long, like the ocean bringing you in and out, and your whole body trembled. He continued lapping at your clit as it pulsed under his tongue, his fingers curling inside you through your orgasm. When you finally breathed out and started to come down from the high of it all, Laios stayed between your thighs, allowing his tongue to gently swirl your clit. Maybe if he continued, he could taste a little more of you …

You found your voice, hoarse from overstimulation. “Laios, please, you have to stop,” you begged, yanking his head up from between your legs. His mouth was covered in your slick, and then he was giving you that dopey expression again, making your heart clench. Your body was no longer hot and sweaty. Laios had completely cured you of the sea serpent bite with that expert mouth of his. He unwound his arms from your thighs, bringing his fingers that were still covered with your wetness to his mouth, tasting the last of your orgasm. You watched him, eyes wide and cheeks blushing, until he was looking at you again with those golden doe eyes.

“That was amazing,” he said, like he was in a haze. When your eyes flickered down, you realized he was hard in his pants, but it wasn’t like he even noticed himself with the way he was staring at you. “We should do that again sometime.”

He stood up, and you scrambled to pull your clothes back on before the group came back. You stammered, “It’s okay, uh – we don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to. We could just –”

“I want to,” he cut in, a determined look in his eyes. “What are friends for, right?” 

[shuafiles]

poison [l.dh]

MDNI, 18+

SUMMARY | you and haechan have a love for drama, so when things start feeling too predictable, you both devise a plan to keep the spark alive. but as real emotions creep in, you start wondering if you’ve taken it too far.

PAIRING | boyfriend!haechan x afab!reader

CONTENT | smut with no plot, mean girl reader, billionaire haechan, some degrading insults, haechan is a loser for reader, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff! honestly just reader getting lowk insecure and haechan getting mad that she thinks he wud replace her when he's so sickeningly in love with her

WORDS | 3.9k

A/N | inspired by blaire and chuck from gossip girl !!! not totally but kinda.

spotted. lee haechan’s eyes scanning the crowd for his next target. the loud music almost deafening. sweaty bodies on the dance floor. the smell of liquor filling the air. he leaned against the bar, swirling the ice around his drink, when he locked eyes with the woman standing across from him, clad in a tight red dress that caught his attention. she seemed to have been looking at him for a while because once he finally caught her eye, her lips formed a smile, slyly sending him a wave. this was perfect.

haechan raised his glass with a slight nod, making her presence known to him. with hips swaying in confidence, she strolled over to him. she leaned against the bar, yelling out her drink order to the bartender—as if she didn’t come here for one reason only. he nearly missed how she fixed her hair as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. this was all part of her game. good thing haechan loved to play.

haechan smirked, turning his body to face her. “put her drink on my tab.” haechan spoke, loud enough for the bartender to hear, nodding at his request as he continued making her drink.

“you didn’t have to.” the woman said, tucking her hair behind her ear. she gave haechan her name, but he was too disinterested to ask her to repeat it, nodding to her words.

“haechan.” he tilted his head towards her, his eyes dancing over her frame long enough to reel her in.

“i know you.” she giggled, sliding close to him, arms nearly brushing one another. “think everyone in this room does.”

of course, they would. who wouldn't? haechan was the youngest billionaire in the city, the type of man people dreamed of being or fucking. he knew she wasn’t the first person to be drawn by his reputation, and she definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“so, you’re just here… alone?” she asked, placing a hand on haechan’s arm. a bold move. biting her lips as an invitation.

haechan raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a knowing smirk. it was almost too easy. he inched closer to her, the gap between them being dangerously close, enough to keep her hooked. “depends,” his voice low, gaze dropping to her lips. “who’s asking?”

she leaned closer, eyes flickering to his lips, sending him an invitation to take things further. “what if we went somewhere more private?” her voice low and sultry, breath fanning against his skin, her body language insinuating that she wanted more than just small conversations.

“what if i have a girlfriend?” haechan teased.

she let out a laugh as if to brush off his words. “lee haechan doesn’t do girlfriends.” she replied, a playful look on her face. her fingers sliding up his arm. tilting her head until she was close enough to his lips.

just when her lips were mere inches away from his, a loud and commanding voice sliced through the air.

“what the fuck!” there you stood, arms crossed with fire in your eyes as you stared at the scene in front of you. the woman pulled back from the sudden voice. haechan leaned back against the bar with amusement in his eyes. the game was about to get even better.

the women froze, eyes blinking. her expression shifting from flirtation to confusion. “is… something wrong?” she asked, throat dry as you marched towards them.

“yes, actually.” you spat, voice sharp but controlled, the perfect volume to make her squirm. “care to explain why your nasty hands are all over my boyfriend?”

blood drained from her face, her body stepped away from haechan. face flooding with embarrassment as she looked between you and haechan. “wait–i…i didn’t know!” she stammered, voice faltering as she tried to gather herself.

haechan, playing the part perfectly, put his hands up. “baby, i tried to tell her i have a girlfriend. i was just being polite, and she came over to me.” he said, a pleading look on his face that barely concealed his grin. you could see him trying to suppress his laughter, but you kept your angry expression, not wanting to break character.

“i’m so sorry! oh my god, i didn’t– i wouldn't have–” she stuttered, 

“next time, maybe check if he’s single before you start whoring yourself at him.” you shot her a pity look; lips twitching into a sarcastic smile. you watched as her face turned crimson, bowing her head in apology. you tsked at her. “well? get your cheap perfume-smelling ass out of here!” waving your hand in exasperation.

she muttered an embarrassed apology before backing away and hastily disappearing into the crowd. the moment she was out of sight, haechan wrapped his arms around your waist, laughter escaping his lips.

“hi.” you greeted him by placing your hands on his chest, a flirty smile plastered on your face.

“hi, baby.” haechan kissed your temple. “you are way too good at this.” he murmured, eyes filled with amusement as he pulled you close.

“oh, please.” you slid your hands up to his shoulders, leaning into him. “you were practically begging for me to come and save you.”

haechan chuckled, his fingers tracing small circles on your back–a small habit of his. “maybe. but admit it, you enjoyed every second of it.”

you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips gave your expression away. “fine. but next time, maybe don’t let them get too close.” you tilted your head. sending him a warning glare.

haechan leaned forward, lips brushing against one another.. “don’t worry, princess. you know i only want you.” his voice dropped to a low, teasing whisper. his words sending sparks to your stomach. you love it when he’s like this, so loyal and so needy for you.

this game was your very own taste of poison—a mix of jealousy, excitement, and danger. it was intoxicating, the way it made your heart race, the thrill of testing each other’s limits. but along with the thrill, there was lingering pain every time you saw haechan in the arms of another woman. but you decided to shake it off, after all, it was you who he was coming home to.

you closed the gap between your lips, savoring his taste. he reciprocated your eagerness, his grip on your waist tightening as his leg went in between your thighs. your dress nearly hiking up from the contact.

“what do you say, let’s get out of here?” haechan mumbled against your lips, his hand reaching for the hem of your dress to pull it down and avoid exposing you to the crowd. you were his, after all. no one else’s.

-

“hi, princess.” haechan greeted you with a quick, soft peck on the lips as you entered his penthouse. his cologne filled the air, blending with the subtle scent of leather and warm spices that filled the room. it had been a few days since you saw him, and something about the way he looked now—so comfy and domesticated—made your heart flutter, even after all this time.

“so,” haechan started as you both settled down on the couch. “there’s this new lounge downtown that opened up, i hear it's pretty popular. want to check it out? have some fun?” his lips curled into a smirk, brows wiggling slightly as his arms rested on the couch behind your back.

you tried to fight off the way your eyes nearly rolled behind your head. right. the game. it’s not like you hated it, in fact, you were the one who suggested it at first. before you met haechan he had this playboy image attached to him, a reputation for never settling down, always chasing after a girl. you heard the gossip, the way people talked about him like he was some forbidden fruit that you taste once and never again. the games, in some sick twisted way, were a way to keep him off his feet while reminding him that he belonged to you.

deep down, you couldn’t help but feel that he’ll never be satisfied with just you.

“baby?” haechan pulled you out of your trance, watching you with worried eyes. “are you okay? do you not want to?” his hand reached for the ones in your lap, caressing the skin lightly.

you tried to force a smile, shaking your head. “it’s not that.” chewing on your bottom lips as you tried to think of the words. “sometimes i just wonder… if these games are all we have.” you admitted, head low as you avoided his gaze.

haechan’s eyebrows furrowed, gaze sharpening as he watched you.  “what do you mean?” his voice softened.

you took a deep breath, looking down at your intertwined hands. “i only suggested this because… because i was scared?”

“what are you scared of, princess?” with his free hand, he grasped your chin with his thumb and index finger, tilting your head to face him. his eyes flickering all over your face. cheeks burning from his intense gaze.

you stayed silent for a second, pondering of what to say. “i was scared you’d get bored of me. you had this reputation, haechan.” you started, his expression turning sour from your confession. “i-i didn’t know if i was enough to keep you interested, and i thought if we kept things exciting, you wouldn't go back to that life.”

something shifted in haechan as soon as you finished talking. his soft, warm look had vanished and got replaced by something sharp, something angry. he dropped his hand from your face, his jaw tightening as he stood up, turning away from you. you heart dropped at this state, worried you offended him.

“are you serious?” haechan ran his hands through his hair. “you think i’m only interested in you because of… because of these games?” he turned to face you.

you swallowed, a wave of regret washing over you. “i didn’t mean–“ you stood up, facing him. his frame towering over you.

“do you think that low of me?” haechan’s jaw clenched, he couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth “do you think i’d get bored and… leave you for someone else?”

“haechan, that’s not what i mean.” you reached for his hand, but his body was stiff, still, he let you hold his hand. “it’s just– i don’t know… you never really settled down before. i thought you needed something to keep things interesting.”

“after everything we’ve been through, you still think i’d leave you the second things get a little… normal?” his voice raw, the hurt evident in his tone. you have never seen him this upset, so vulnerable. you felt like shit.

haechan has never once shown you anything to make you doubt his love. it was rooted in your insecurity that you think he’d get up and leave.

“i just,” you paused, carefully studying his expression. his forehead creased from the way his eyebrows were furrowed. your thumb drew circles on the back of his hand. “didn’t want to lose you.”

“i know you’re worried because of my… past.” his voice grew softer, his other hand reaching for yours. “you know that’s not who i am anymore, y/n. you changed that. do you even realize that?” his gaze burned into you, his frustration turning into assurance. “if you think i need some damn game to stay interested, then i guess i have to remind you.”

“remind me what?” you questioned, his fingers tugging you close to him.

“of how much i love you.” haechan leaned down, his body’s warmth engulfing you. “of how you’re the only girl for me.” his lips crashed into yours. you gasped at the sudden movement before shutting your eyes and feeling him against you.

his hands grasped your hips, pulling your body close to him. his leg in between your thighs, and you were thankful you decided to wear a skirt today. his grip on your hips tightened as you moaned against his lips once he slipped his tongue past your mouth, making sure to cover every corner. you couldn’t help but grind your hips against his thigh, needing some sort of friction. he noticed you were getting needy, so he pulled away, smirking at your flustered state before grabbing you by the hand and guiding you to his bedroom.

haechan wasted no time pushing your body down on the soft mattress, yelping when he suddenly stripped your skirt and underwear off of your body in one swift motion. your bottom half completely bare as he shamelessly stared at your dripping pussy.

“hyuck!” you whined. you were half-naked, yet he was still fully clothed. he let out a chuckle before grabbing you by the thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. his fingers grabbed the hem of your top before sliding it off you. leaving you bare and ready for him.

haechan pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he sunk to his knees, his face right in front of your glistening core. he leaned forward, taking a whiff of your scent, letting out a groan once the smell hit his nostrils. “can’t believe you think i’d exchange this for anything.” he wrapped his arms around and over your thighs, holding you steady as you squirmed underneath his touch. “guess i have to show you how much i need you, princess.” he murmured before attaching his lips to your clit.

haechan sucked on the bundle of nerves, lapping his tongue around your folds. your hand gripping his hair, pulling him close to you. he had you planned out like a map, knew all the tips and tricks to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. he darted his tongue out to your entrance, making you buck your hips upward.

“o-oh god.” you cried out, back arching against the mattress. you needed him. craved for him.

haechan hummed against your pussy, his cock growing harder with every moan you released. he loved it when you were weak from his touch—in this case, tongue. he pulled away from your cunt, a string of saliva forming. he retracted one arm from your thigh, bringing his fingers up to your clit. your legs twitching once you felt his long fingers gliding along your folds, feeling your slick mixed with his saliva. without warning, he sunk two digits into your wet hole. lewd sounds escaping your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

“how could i–” haechan curled his fingers, making your legs close from pleasure, but his grip prevented you from doing so. “ever get bored–” he inserted another finger, relentlessly fucking your hole, stretching you out in the process. “of my sweet sweet slut–” he increased his pace, making you cry out of pleasure. “when you take my fingers this good?”

you trembled against him, stomach contracting from the immense pleasure he was giving you. he knew you were close once he felt you clench around his fingers. he took this as a sign to return his lips to your clit, sucking harshly on the bud. matching the movement of his tongue with his fingers. your grip on his hair tightened, your hips pushing down to meet his touch. his fingers effortlessly sliding in and out of your core, curling it with every thrust.

“h-hyuck, so close, please.” you moaned, your head lifting to face him. his eyes meeting yours, smirking once he saw your face twisting into pleasure. his ego growing once he saw how hungry you were for him.

“you taste so good, baby.” haechan grunted, pressing his tongue flat on your clit. desperate to bring you to your climax, he increased his pace. the sound of your pussy squelching reached your ears. “come on, baby. cum on my fingers.” with his encouragement, you came hard on his fingers. a string of curse words escaping your lips, hand gripping the sheets beneath you as you threw your head back against the bed.

haechan’s movements halted, pulling his tongue away from your clit. reclaiming his fingers that were buried in you, each digit covered in your cum. he wasted no time cleaning his fingers with his tongue, tasting your sweetness till it was no more.

he pulled his body away from you, making you frown as you tried to catch your breath. he stripped himself out of his pants and shirt, discarding them somewhere in the room. you kept your gaze on him, his tip red and angry, slapped against his stomach. you propped yourself up by your elbows, climbing higher on the bed to give him some space. he flashed you a sweet smile, climbing in between your legs. his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, getting a taste of your cum from his tongue.

“on your stomach.” he mumbled against your lips. you pulled away, your face burning with anticipation. you twisted your body, laying flat on your stomach. he grabbed one of his pillows, prompting the soft material beneath you. your ass on full display for him, making him groan. he wrapped his fingers around his cock, pumping his length while his free hand took a handful of your ass, squeezing the skin, pushing your hips against his hand. “my good girl.”

haechan leaned down, pressing soft wet kisses on your back, legs straddling the back of your thighs. “stick your ass up a bit for me, baby.” following his instructions, you hiked your ass up for him. “god, you’re too perfect.” he gripped his cock with one hand, lining himself up to your entrance before sinking inside you. he hissed as your pussy perfectly swallowed him like you were made for him. “jesus–how are you still so tight for me?” he shifted his hands to the swell of your ass, gripping on it.

“fuck, hyuck.” you moaned as you adjusted to his size. you seemed to always forget how big and thick his cock was. “you’re so big, baby.” your walls were burning, but soon enough, the discomfort slowly turned into pleasure as you felt every inch of his cock.

haechan almost growled, desperate to move. you turned your head to the side, catching his eye. you gave him a slight nod, signaling him to move, which he does gladly. he started to move his hips against you. “god, baby, you take my cock so fucking well.” his hands flat on your ass as he started to increase the pace of his thrusts. you lifted your hips to meet his thrusts, making him grunt. his hands moving to grip your shoulders, steadying himself as he buried his cock deep into you. you couldn't help the moans that slips past your lips as the tip of his cock repeatedly kissed your cervix. “your pussy was made for me.”

haechan’s hand moved to collect your hair into a makeshift ponytail, tugging on it with every thrust of his hips. your breath came out in short gasps, tears welling your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.

“f-faster, hyuckie.” you managed to gasp out. stars clouding your vision as he increased his speed. you arched your back, pushing your hips down on his cock. his hand moving down to your throat, pulling your body flush against him.

“i’m all yours, baby.” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “never doubt my love for you again.” you grew weak at his words, legs shaking as he continued slamming his hips against yours. “lay on your back.” he pulled out of you, nearly feeling lonely from the empty feeling. following his instructions, you laid on your back—secretly loving the way he bosses you around.

he positioned himself between your legs, leaning down to attach his lips to yours. you moaned into the kiss, arms flying around his neck to pull you close to him. he aligns his cock back to your entrance, easily slipping it in. your face scrunching in pleasure as his thrusts gradually increased pace. his lips detaching from yours before trailing kisses down to your chest.

haechan’s mouth met your breast, entrapping the bud around his lips before sucking it. his hand giving your other breast all the attention by circling the sensitive nub with his fingers. your back arching from the sensation, pushing your breast further to his face. his cock pounded deeper into you as he felt you clench around him, your orgasm forming at the pit of your stomach. he released your nipple, making a popping sound in the process. “is this what you wanted?” he smirked, watching you writhe beneath him. “to remind you that you’re the only girl that gets to feel my cock?” his hand sliding down to your clit, pinching it, making you gasp. “to fuck you dumb til you can’t speak?” your mind was getting hazy, you merely nodded at his words, lips parting as he fills you up perfectly. “look at me, baby.” he commanded, your gaze meeting his. his eyes dark, filled with hunger as he stared you down. “i love you.”

the familiar knot formed in your abdomen as his fingers continued to circle your clit while simultaneously slamming his hips into yours. his thrusts in perfect rhythm as you neared your climax. he continued whispering the nastiest things in your ear, making sure to get it into your head that he belonged to you, and you only.

“i-i’m gonna cum, please, hyuckie.” you managed to whine out, tears forming your eyes.

the consistency of his thrusts getting sloppy as his orgasm starts to catch up. “does my pretty little slut want me to be filled with my cum, hm?”

“yes, please.” your nails digging into his shoulders. “want your cum in me.”

haechan leaned down to kiss you once more. your release washing over you with a few more thrusts. your body trembling as you came all over his cock. your walls contracting triggering his own orgasm, his cum releasing inside you. his body collapsing on top of you as he pulled his cock from you. his cum trickling down your pussy.

your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, sweat sticking to your bodies. haechan detached himself from you, landing on the spot next to you. he turned to face you, eyes searching yours. “this isn’t just some passing thrill for me, y/n.” he reminded you, hand reaching out to caress your cheek as you faced him with soft eyes. “you’re the person i want to build something real with. i belong to you, you belong to me.”

you could see how much he meant his words, how deeply he felt for you.

“i love you, haechan.” you whispered, leaning into his touch. he pulled your body close to him, pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.

“i love you, too. no more games, okay? just you and me.”

just the two of you, raw and real, was more than enough.

[dorkszn]

COME AND GET THAT + logan howlett

SYNP — being home for the summer from school isn’t so bad. it isn’t so bad until your motorcycle stops working. and your dad tells you to call over the man that inspired you to get the bike in the first place and the closest one who could fix it, his best friend and your longtime crush, logan.

WARNINGS — masc reader, age gap ( no duh ), reader’s dad is kinda a dick, subbot reader, oral, petnames, logan’s a little mean, slight degradation, kitchen sex, hair pulling, eventual smut, porn with plot | 3.4K ( im sorry 😭 )

PART TWO ( coming soon )

Summertime. It’s such a wonderful time. You get out of school and can drive back to your hometown. You see your parents and siblings and get to flop onto the mattress of your old childhood bedroom.

But your favorite part? Getting to see your dad’s best friend, Logan. Who seems only to be getting hotter and hotter with each passing year. Only maybe you’re just getting more worked up and shy with every year that passes because each summer you can barely stand to look him in the eye or be alone in a room with him.

You’ve been home for about a week or two by this point, getting back into the comfort and schedule of your hometown life. Luckily but also somehow unfortunately, you have yet to see Logan since you returned. Hell, he probably doesn’t even know you’re home.

So imagine your surprise when you’re standing outside of your parent’s house with your dad, examining your sleek motorcycle that just wouldn’t start. You know how to do basic motorcycle care that of course, Logan taught you. He was the one who inspired and motivated you to get the damn bike anyways. So why were you surprised when your dad suggested calling him?

“Guess I’ll give Logan a call and see if he’s busy. He should know how to fix it,” your father says in a small sigh as he stands up straight.

“Wait, call Logan?” You repeat even though you know it’s dumb question and that you were just nervous to see him again since winter break.

“Yeah, Logan, you got a problem with that or something, squirt?” Your father responds slightly mockingly as he repeats your obviously odd question. You just grumble slightly under your breath.

“No, dad, just… go ahead and call em’,” you say in a sigh as the two of you stalk back towards the house. After that, it only takes half an hour before the inevitable and you see that familiar pickup pull into your driveway.

You reluctantly trail behind your dad like a clingy pup instead of a grown man to go greet Logan. You don’t miss the way he smirks with his signature cigar between his lips as he very slowly drags his eyes on your body.

“And when was I gonna find out my favorite college kid was home?” Logan asks gruffly, plucking the cigar from his lips with an outlet of smoke. His voice damn near sends shivers down your spine everytime you hear it.

You just opt for shrugging and giving him a casual smile. “Find out when you find out, I guess,” you say and of course, he lets out that little chuckle and snort that you love so much.

Logan puts his calloused, large hand out for you to greet him correctly only for him to grab your hand and pull you into him. You can’t help the small, very unmanly yelp that leaves you when he grabs you so suddenly. The smell of him hitting you so quick it damn near makes your mind spin. Cigars and ash and wood and leather and just him. Gosh, it almost drives you so crazy you barely notice the light headlock he put you in.

When you do finally notice, it definitely does not help the flare of heat in the pit of your stomach. You try to brush it off, tugging at his incredibly strong and veiny biceps with a small grin to pry him off of you. Finally, he releases you and you can’t help but take in a relieved breath.

“Still as much of a little shit as ever, kid,” Logan taunts, placing his cigar back between his lips. Lips that you wanted to feel on yours so bad. “You sure you ain’t getting smaller with each year?”

You roll your eyes for the second time that night. He knew you weren’t getting smaller. It just seemed like he was getting bigger even at his grown age. And damn, is he big. 6 feet 2 inches and 205 pounds of pure muscle. “Yeah, I’m sure, Logan,” you end up mumbling in response as you stuff your hands in your pockets.

Logan just chuckles again. “Yeah, okay,” he responds sarcastically. With another puff of smoke, he looks to your father then your bike. “So, what’s the problem, Bub?” He inquires.

You trail your father as he walks Logan over to your motorcycle. The same model he recommended years ago. You barely listen as your father explains the situation to his best friend, your eyes stuck to the man in the red flannel.

“Looks like you just need an oil change, kid. And your fuel filters clogged,” Logan says in a small grunt as he stands from his kneeling position next to your bike.

“Damn, squirt, you can’t tell when you need an oil change?” Your dad questions, pinching the bridge of his nose. You frown slightly and your brows furrow.

“I just didn’t notice, okay?” You grumble in reply.

Your father sighs before looking back at Logan. “Could ya fix it, Howlett?” Your father questions, folding his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah, could change the oil if the kid wants. The fuel filter, on the other hand, you’re gonna have to replace the part. I’m assuming you don’t just got one layin’ around here,” Logan explains and he dusts his palms off.

“Perfect. Time for the kid to learn to do something for himself,” your father says with a grin of mock-approval. Oh, how you wish your mother was here instead. Logan just lets out a small chuckle that seems just a little bit forced. “Well, I gotta head off to work. Help Logan out, will ya? Get him whatever he needs or asks for.” Your father sighs to you.

He’s going to leave? The two of you? Alone? Does he actually want you to pass away? “Yeah, dad, I got it,” you say to cover up the way your heart almost immediately started racing. Then it was only minutes later before you were watching your father pull out of your driveway and zip down the street, leaving just you and Logan.

Logan turns to you and damn you could almost feel the way he looked at you. You nervously pull your eyes away from the street and to Logan who offers you his usual smirk when you look at him. “Get me your old man’s box, will ya?” He requests.

“Yeah, sure,” you murmur before turning and walking back towards the house to get your dad’s toolbox. And are you being paranoid or is he definitely watching you walk away?

You eventually come back with your dad’s toolbox in hand. Logan turns to you when he hears your footsteps despite them being damn near silent. He’s always so astute and aware. It scares you and somehow turns you on at the same time.

“Atta boy,” Logan says as he takes the box from you and holds it like it weighs nothing more than a bottle of water. “Thanks, kid.”

Atta boy. Gosh, what would you give to hear him say that again. “Yeah, no problem,” you respond. You can’t help but watch him for a few minutes before turning and walking back towards the house. Your father would definitely force you to stay and watch Logan so you could “actually do something right.” But thankfully and also unfortunately, he isn’t there and Logan could care less.

And for the next 45 minutes, you spend your time inside trying to distract yourself from the man outside. The man you were home alone with. You leave the door ajar just in case he needs anything which of course he doesn’t. He’s just that good, right?

You lean against your kitchen counter, feeding your cat, James, a blonde cat who is somehow more accident prone than you are, blueberries. Your mind is practically running on autopilot out of boredom. But you’re acutely aware of the sound of the front door opening and shutting. As well as the heavy footsteps coming towards the kitchen.

Logan turns the corner, his flannel gone, leaving him in just a tanktop and jeans. A tanktop that practically put all of him on display. The muscles and veins in his arms, the firmness of his chest. Specifically that vein on his right biceps that runs all the way down to his forearm.

There’s a few oil marks staining his skin, on his neck and arms and chest. A little on his cheek. How the hell did he get that dirty? Hell, not like you’d know. You hardly touch the inside of that motorcycle, willingly.

His dog tags hanging perfectly in between his pecs. How you would love to trade places with those things right now. “S’all done, Bub,” Logan tells you as he steps further into the kitchen.

“Right, yeah, thanks,” you say, reluctantly stopping your ogling to grab him a water from the fridge. Logan flicks his hands as he finishes washing them and takes the water from you. He leans against the counter across from you.

“How’s college treatin’ ya?” He inquires, watching as you feed James another piece of fruit.

“It’s okay, nothing special. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice school but it’s not like it’s Ivy League or anything,” you answer in a small shrug as you pop a blueberry into your own mouth. Logan can’t help but watch your lips and throat as you do so. His eyes shamelessly trained on you.

“Well atleast you got somethin’ going for ya,” Logan murmurs, finally looking away as he folds his arms over his chest. “Got a boyfriend waiting there too?” He asks. You give him a look. He chuckles. “Or a girlfriend.” Logan adds.

You just roll your eyes which contrasts the smile on your face. “Answers no to both,” you answer, watching James pluck the blueberry from your fingers. And Logan feels a little too happy to see that little smile on your face again.

“Really?” Logan replies, raising a brow in response. “Those little college kids to stupid to see what’s in front of em’ or something?”

You look over to him and see his little eyebrow raise, a quiet snort leaving you. “I don’t know. I just don’t talk to people like that. Hard to be seen when you’re acting invisible, y’know?” You say nonchalantly.

“Gotta put yourself out there one day, Bub,” Logan sighs. “Can’t keep comin’ back to this place and just hoping for it.” You watch him as he speaks and you can’t help the way your eyes repeatedly drop down to the soot on his muscles. You gotta get those stains off before you go nuts.

“It’s more of a choice than anything,” you tell him as you turn and grab a clean rag from one of the lower cabinets. Logan’s sharp eyes follow you as you move around the kitchen. “People there just don’t really “impress” me.” You add as you wet the rag with warm water.

“Oh, boys there ain’t good enough for you, huh?” Logan questions teasingly, that grin returning to his face. You step in front of him and hold out the damp rag to him. Logan silently gestures to his skin in response.

You swallow and suddenly, your heart is beating a million beats a minute. Your eyes fall from his to his chest and neck as you slowly reach the rag to his skin. “Nah,” you finally answer lowly as you begin to gently scrub at his skin. “All the way in university and still ain’t mature enough.” You mutter, watching the oil stains fade away under the rag.

Logan’s eyes are low as he looks down at you, his eyes trained on your face and lips as you speak and wipe him down. “Oh right, not mature enough f’ya,” Logan murmurs. “Need an older guy to take care of you… don’t ya?”

Your hand pauses on his chest and your eyes move back up to his. A swirl of desire and need mixing in his dark eyes. His gaze alone almost makes you shutter. “Yeah… think I do,” I say in a slightly hoarse whisper.

Not knowing what else to do, you let out a barely there breath and raise the rag, going to swipe at some of the stains on his cheeks. Your heart almost stops in your chest when he grabs your wrist instead. His other hand comes up to grab your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on him.

“And what would your old man think about that, huh?” Logan questions lowly, his breath fanning your lips. You part your lips to answer but your words get caught in Logan’s rough lips. Your whole body tenses up for a moment before immediately melting into him.

You let him hold you, you let him push you back into the other counter behind you. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth, the taste of his earlier cigar still lingering. But it only serves to make you weaker. You groan into his mouth as his large hand suddenly slips from your wrist to your crotch, squeezing you through your sweatpants.

“School got you all pent up, yeah?” Logan asks in a huff of a breath as he just barely pulls away from your lips. Once again, he steals your lips before you can answer. Palming you through your sweatpants while his tongue explores every inch of your mouth.

He’s not wrong. It’s been just you and your hand for months now. And somehow Logan just barely touching you through your sweats is better than any night of you fucking your fist.

You can’t help but whine into his mouth when he pulls away, his hand running over your hips and waist instead. But the feeling of him pressing himself against you in his jeans quickly silences your whines. His half-erect cock grinding against your as he rolls his hips. Logan pulls back in a low groan, a thin shiny string of saliva connecting your kiss-swollen lips.

“Been thinking ‘bout you since winter, Bub. Y’know that? Pretty ass been on my mind for fucking months,” Logan says to you in a heavy breath as he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip. You just look up at him, still in slight shock at it all but your mind falling prey to the pleasure and want.

“What? You wanna do something about that?” You question quietly, your voice not matching your smug and suggestive words.

Logan smirks down at you a bit. “Damn right,” he answers, his hand on your chin shifting to your hair as he grabs a fistful of it and tilts your head to the side. His hips rolling against your again as he sinks his teeth into neck. His name falling from your lips in a whimper.

Your hand subconsciously falls to his belt, weakly trying to still his hips against yours which of course doesn’t work. Logan pulls his teeth from your neck while simultaneously guiding your hand down from his belt to the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Feel that, pretty boy? Feel what you’re doing t’me?” Logan mutters against your bruising skin. And you do feel him. A lot of him. It made you lose your breath further while shooting sparks of further arousal to your gut. “Wanna help me out, Bub? Little favor for changin’ your oil?” He requests as he sucks at your flesh, hungrily and greedily.

You move almost immediately to your knees. Breath shaking as he backs up just a bit to look down at you. A devilish grin covering his face. “Well, aren’t you just an obedient little thing,” he comments as one of his hands finds his belt, the other still in your hair.

Your heart pounding in your ears as you watch his belt unbuckle, as he unbuttons his jeans and zips them down. Your mouth damn-near watering as he tugs down his pants and boxers just enough for his dick to spring free. And oh, your jaw is going to be aching for hours.

“Look at you, all cock-thirsty. Nobody been givin’ you any attention, huh?” Logan says as he pumps himself a few times, gently guiding your head to his already leaking tip. He doesn’t have to ask before you part your lips. Maybe it was a little pathetic how quickly you dropped for him. But you couldn’t care less at the moment.

You let him sit himself on your tongue and he just basks in the view. A bit of his pre dripping onto the pink muscle. That sight alone pushed him further, pushing his hips forward until he was almost buried in your throat to the hilt. “Damn, pretty boy, you done this before or something?” Logan groans before he’s moving.

His hand in your hair keeping your head still as he begins fucking your throat. You try to keep the tears from glossing up in your eyes as he hits the back of your throat but you can’t. He doesn’t mind.

“Fuck, how has nobody claimed this perfect throat yet? Taking me so fucking well,” Logan grunts, staring right down into your glossy eyes. You let out a choked whimper around him in reply, the vibrations of the sound going straight to Logan’s cock, making his eyes fall shut as he sucks in a sharp breath. “Right, can’t answer with your mouth full of dick, can you?”

Another muffled whimper which results in him tugging on your hair. “Guess your old man was wrong, huh?” Logan pants over the sound of his balls lewdly hitting your chin, a mix of his pre and your own drool slicking the skin. “You did learn to do somethin’ useful. Damn good cock-sucker.”

Your hands hold onto his thighs as he repeatedly stuffs your face to the hilt, his fat tip kissing the back of your throat. Your nails dig into his skin through his jeans only for his eyes to roll in response. A hoarse and gruff “oh fuck” slipping through his teeth. “Been doing this for those college boys? That how you brought your little grade back up?” Logan questions roughly as he looks down to you.

Such a pretty sight you are. Eyes watering, lashes glistening, mouth full, and your lips a wet mess of your fluids.

“Mmm,” your denial doesn’t leave as words, just muffled choked sounds. A small smirk grows on Logan’s face.

“No? Ain’t that a shocker. You’d— shit— you’d make some good fucking money. Sucking cock for cash, clearly doesn't take much to get you to anyways,” Logan says, almost taunting you with his words. Taunting how fast you got on your knees for him.

You can only respond by pressing your tongue flaccid against his cock, feeling his veins pulse over the muscle. Only for him to tug on your hair when you swirl your tongue over his tip. “Fine by me,” Logan says, his voice breaking into a breathy moan. “Pretty little throat is all mine.”

You feel your own hard-on twitch in your pants at that. The idea of being all his. Even if it’s just for the summers and winters. Logan doesn’t miss the way you take him in more greedily, the way you keep letting him glide across your tongue, the way your breathing just barely steadies when you finally find a rhythm.

“Yeah? You like that idea, Bub? Being all mine?” Logan says strained, the snap of his hips growing sloppy and stuttering. All you can do is let out a muffled groan around him, staring up at him with your big eyes as the tears finally slip over. They only worsen their streams as Logan pushes your head down, giving you hardly any room to breathe as his cock twitches and he cums down your throat.

He doesn’t let you go until you’re digging your nails into his thighs again and he finally lets go of your hair. You pull away and practically gasp for the breath you lost. Coughing and heaving and sniffling as dribbles of his release rolling down your chin, followed by your tears.

“You okay down there, Bub? Too much?” Logan asks as he chases his own breath.

“No, no, i—i'm okay,” you manage to get out as you wipe at the tears and your slick chin. Logan’s low eyes drop to the tent in your sweatpants between your legs. His eyes then pull back up to yours.

“What time does your old man get off?”

[phas3d]

Hi there! I’m not sure if your still taking requests, but I would love to know your thoughts on how Lorenzo, Theo, Draco, Mattheo, and Tom would react to their s/o wearing their hoodie/sweater. I was thinking headcanons or a Drabble but anything would be great! I really love writing and hope you feel inspired to write even more soon!

Wearing Their Clothes | Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: calling theo a man whore, calling enzo a twink,

contains :: draco, tom, mattheo, theodore, lorenzo

notes :: inspired by uhh, nothing really - this prompt has been in my draft for ages and i finallyyyy finished it - THANK YOU to everyone who sends requests, I'm finally getting to them

DRACO MALFOY

When you complained about being cold, he instantly started lecturing you

"I told you it would get cold but your little pea brain didn't process that"

But while he's lecturing you, he's taking off his jumper and handing it to you

It smells like him and it's super soft

He only buys the best material for his clothes, because duhhh

He lets you wear it until you're somewhere warm

Although he loves you, he loves his jumper more

But he does sacrifice some of his jumpers by letting you wear them because, he hates to admit it, but you look super cute in his clothes

TOM RIDDLE

He watches you shiver for a few minutes until he decides to offer his jacket

You could literally be turning blue but he won't offer his jacket until he feels like it

He sighs, as if you asked for his jacket, and drapes his jacket around your shoulders

And guess what,,, he even ZIPS IT UP FOR YOU

AHHHH

Even though he's a dickhead at times, he's still a gentleman

When you put on his jacket, he slightly smirks at how big it is on you

Not cause you're cute, but because it makes him feel powerful to know he's bigger

MATTHEO RIDDLE

Is so so happy when he sees you out in the cold during his quidditch match

He's beaming and passes by you in the bleachers for a quick second as he throws his spare jersey in your arms

When you put it on, you smell his sweat and musk

Which would smell disgusting to some but to you, that's your boy :)

During his game, he glances over at you and smiles when he sees you wearing it

It helps push him to win even more

THEODORE NOTT

Sadly, Theo is a man-whore

Meaning he is always serving cunt,,, meaning he rarely wears jackets or sweaters

So if you're cold,,, so is he

Buttt on the lucky chance he is actually wearing a jacket and hiding his muscles, he doesn't hesitate to give you his jacket

And his jackets are 10 times better because not only is it always great material, clean, but it's also stylish

He always takes pictures of you when you wear his jacket, it makes him feel so happy and giddy

It kinda inspires him to try and style outfits for you to wear

Possibly plans matching outfits, that way if you get cold and he needs to give you his jacket - it will match both of you :)

This man is a THINKER!!! mwah

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

This man is a twig, twink, pocket sized

He will fly away in the wind like a napkin

BUT luckily, he loves getting massively oversized hoodies

It smells like the woods, a hint of lavender, but mostly fresh grass and sunlight is his scent

He loves to cool and comfy looks it gives - always gets a cool ass design on it as well

When you borrow his hoodies, he gets so giddy

He loves it so much since it's like he's claiming you in a way

Similar to how you leave hair ties, claw clips, and extra lip glosses all over his room

Definitely stacks up on big hoodies, that way you have a bunch of options to choose from

Even gets you guys matching designs in different colors

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Teaser

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut (tbd), idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!), Mild cursing

Word count: 800-ish for this teaser

Posting date: November 7, 2024

Notes: This is for my friends and moots in the US. Please stay strong. One day at a time, my loves. Future’s gonna be okay 💕 This story is inspired by @yoongznme 's ask/prompt. Thank you for requesting!

Taglist is closed. 🙈 Leave a comment here to be notified when the story drops.

Masterlist

Edit: Part 1 out now.

Namjoon leans back in his seat, sporting an all-too-familiar, slightly conspiratorial glint in his eyes. Hmm. You know that look. 

It's the same one he had when he "casually" set you up to tutor one of his trainee friends in English—the one you let slip was kinda cute. Or when he signed you up to perform with one of his rapper friends in that underground club in Hongdae. Sure, you knew every word of the chorus to eminem’s Stan, but you were not a fucking singer. 

You still did it, though. Both times. 

Namjoon’s especially notorious for volunteering you to do things he insists are "right up your alley." There’s a fire in his eyes when he starts talking about one of his ideas, and before you know it, you're swept up in his vision, already picturing yourself right there beside him, doing something you’d never consider on your own.

Namjoon has been your best friend since forever and for reasons you can’t explain, saying no to him has always been impossible.

Right. It’s definitely that. It’s definitely not because in those two prior instances mentioned, both friends of his are actually the same guy. The one you had an almost crippling crush on over a decade ago. (You’re sooo over it, though. Trust.)

When Namjoon finally leaned in, you were already bracing yourself.

“So, you know Yoongi, right?”

You blink, pause, and slowly shake your head. It has taken years, but today is the day you tell him, “No.”

“The fuck? What do you mean no?” He replies, already looking hella amused. “I haven’t even said anything.”

Your face feels like a furnace, but you grit and steady your voice. “Whatever it is, the answer is no.”

He lets out a hum, shifting in his seat, and you get the sense he’s working up to something. 

You sip your coffee, keeping your eyes on him. He gives you an exaggerated shrug, dimples deepening as he lets his shoulder sag. 

God you’re literally already about to break. 

“Fuck. Joon. Spit it out.”

He nods triumphantly, “Ok, there’s something I thought I’d run by you first, before he hears about it.”

The words hang in the air, and you raise an eyebrow. “What are you getting me into?”

Namjoon chuckles softly as he folds his hands on the table. “So… Yoongi has a son. A baby, actually.” He pauses, watching for your reaction. 

What? Someone has fuckboi Min Yoongi all locked down?! Huh. You never saw that coming.

You let that sink in, surprise filling the quiet space between you. “I… didn’t know he had a kid.”

“Not many people do,” Namjoon admits. “Only those close to him know. Yoongi’s an incredible dad, but his caretaker recently left, and now he’s scrambling to balance his schedule and take care of his son.”

“And his wife?”

Namjoon sighs, gives you a look that means he’s about to say something confidential. “There’s no wife.”

“Baby mama?”

“Out of the picture.”

You let out a small breath, absorbing everything you just heard. You already had an idea of where this is leading up to, but you want it said explicitly. “So what exactly are you telling me here?”

Namjoon nods, eyes hopeful. “Look, I know this is a big ask. I’m putting this out there because you’re one of the best with kids I know. And Yoongi—well, he’s pretty wary about letting new people get close to his son.”

You take another sip of your latte as he prattles on.

“While you’re still getting your bearings back, maybe you could take over the caretaker job, even part time?”

Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly as he says your name. “I just thought you might consider it. You’d be doing us both a favor. Yoongi really needs help, and I’d trust you more than anyone with this.”

You sit back, letting Namjoon’s words settle. He knows exactly what he’s asking—knows exactly how hard it is for you to refuse when he gives you that puppy dog look, and then he’s throwing Yoongi into the mix. Honestly, you hate how you're apparently still soft for him even after all these years.

Namjoon also knows your current situation. Does he not realize it’s a bit unfair to ask this of you right now? Not when you're still picking up the pieces after your breakup with your long-term boyfriend. Not when you need time to heal. Not when you literally uprooted your life and just moved back to Seoul a month ago.

But somehow, you can’t shake the curiosity. What would it even be like to see Yoongi as a dad? To get a glimpse of this whole other life he’s got now?

It’s probably a terrible idea. 

Yeah, no. You don’t need this right now. Money isn’t tight. And you need to focus on… 

You take a slow breath, mentally tracing the edges of this mess. There are a hundred reasons to say no, and only one reason you’d even consider saying yes. And because it’s for Yoongi… damn, maybe just one reason's enough.

Notes: So, what do we think? I'm genuinely excited to share my new baby with you guys! Let's go, let's go!

Taglist is closed. Posting soon. Leave a comment if you want to be notified when the story drops.

Help name the baby here

[teapartyprincess4two]

Call Out My Name- J. Webber

pairing: OFcreator!reader x CoStar!Jake

classification: angst, smut

inspiration: request1, request2, Call Out My Name by The Weeknd

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, mention of online sex work, use of y/n, jealousy, slight cursing, Daddy kink, arguing, possessive!Jake, FWB (kinda?), slapping, cream pie, camera usage, somewhat pervy/ gross side character, smoking & alcohol

summary: When you film a video with somebody else, Jake’s jealousy takes over.

—

Your whole life you’ve been known to tell a good lie. You’ve never been necessarily sneaky, you’ve just always been a good actress; a good pretender.

That’s why it’s easy to pretend that Kevin, the man on top of you, is making you see stars. He’s jabbing his penis inside of you like a double edged sword, managing to make every angle less pleasurable than the last.

You put on the performance of a lifetime, but only because the cameras are rolling. A red, blinking light stares back at you to taunt you; to let you know that it’s not over until he’s done.

So, you arch your back off the bed, kiss all over his body, wrap your legs around his waist, chanting words you don’t mean. Words along the lines of, “It feels so good,” “Just like that,” and “Faster! Harder!”

The whole time, as Kevin pounds into you at an ungodly, un-pleasurable pace, all you can think about is Jake. Jake always managed to make you feel good even when the cameras were off. Yet you somehow always find yourself under subpar men.

A loud grunt, and a sweaty forehead against your shoulder pulls you out of your trance.

“Holy fuck that was good!” Kevin groans, his voice choppy as he attempts to catch his breath. His entire body collapses on top of yours, suffocating you under his weight.

This is your grand finale, the big show!

You let out a high pitched moan, claw at his back, and shake beneath him (as much as his weight will allow you) as you praise his hard work.

“So good! Fuck! I’m coming!”

You sit in the moment for a while, uncomfortably adjusting yourself under Kevin as the camera continues recording the awkward silence.

Finally, when you decide this entire interaction needs to end, your palms press flat against his shoulders to push him off of you. His body rolls onto the opposite side of the bed, chest still rising and falling rapidly as he comes down from his high.

You throw on a robe and walk over to the camera, turning it off and looking expectantly at Kevin. He smirks at you, misreading your expression completely.

“Already ready for round two?” He chuckles. “Couldn’t get enough of the stallion, huh?”

He stands up and begins walking over to you while stroking himself, ready to engulf your frame in his arms.

You scoff, picking his clothes up from the floor and shoving it into his chest. “Let’s see how many views this gets. Then I’ll think about it.”

Kevin wears a dumbfounded expression as you kick him out of your house. You’re definitely NEVER collabing with him again, no matter the views.

—

Loud music bumps through the club speakers. A cold drink sits in Jake’s hand, the same drink he’s been nursing all night.

All week he’d been looking forward to a night out with his friends, but now that he’s actually here, he’s not sure he’s enjoying it as much as he thought he would. Maybe it’s just because you haven’t arrived yet.

Kevin stands across from him, retelling stories that everyone is only half-listening to. For as long as Jake has known him, he’s hated Kevin. Everything from the way that he walks, talks, dresses, and even the way that he name drops all of his collabs.*1

As an online sex worker, Jake knows that collaborations between creators are no strings attached and meaningless (for the most part at least). But as Kevin says your name, and describes in detail how good the sex was, Jake can’t help but feel jealous.

“I had her in every position you can think of,” Kevin boasts, holding his arms out as he thrusts the air. “I don’t think I’ve ever made someone cum that fast either,” he continues, pretending to slap ass as he continues his gross display.

Jake scoffs, unintentionally gaining Kevin’s attention.

“Jake! You’ve filmed with her before, right?” Kevin asks.

Jake’s done more than film with you, but he’s not the type to show off. “Yeah, we’ve collabed here and there.”

Kevin jabs Jake’s side, “So you know how tight that pussy is then.” Jake’s heard enough, he shoves Kevin away from him and downs the drink that was still in his hand.

He sucks in through his teeth, slamming the glass onto a nearby table before pushing his way out of the club. “Fuck’s his problem?” Kevin says in confusion, watching as Jake disappears outside.

Jake doesn’t know why he’s so upset, or even why he’s jealous in the first place. He knows you’ve had sex with people other than him, it’s literally your job, but for some reason it gets under his skin ever time.

The thought of you under another man —even if it is just for work— and enjoying it makes him see red. Sometimes he wishes your relationship wasn’t so transactional, that he could have you all to himself even when the camera wasn’t rolling. But he’s forced to accept the fact that what you two share is purely business.

Jake now stands outside of the club, back against a rough brick wall as he tries hard to think of anything other than you. He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, craving the burn that smoking brings him to distract his mind. He’s quick to light the stick and take a long drag from it, blowing in the general direction of an approaching figure.

The street is dimly lit, causing him to squint his eyes until you finally come into view. It’s almost like his jealousy summoned you.

Immediately you notice Jake, excitedly skipping over to him as quickly as your tight leather dress will allow you. “Got one for me?” you ask, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at his cigarette.

You look so happy to see him, but his face doesn’t mirror your expression. He’s quiet, trying to keep to himself as much as possible before his mind inevitably reminds him of Kevin’s words.

He pulls another cigarette out, watching as you place it between your lips and wait for him to light it for you.

“How come you’re not inside?” you ask through puffs of smoke. Jake can’t stop looking at your lips, reminiscing on all the times you wrapped them around his cock while a camera was pointed at your face.

“It was getting loud in there,” he replies simply, before mindlessly continuing, “Plus I couldn’t listen to Kevin keep talking about how good it felt to fuck you.”

You grimace at the mention of his name. “Kevin’s here?”

Jake’s jaw clenches, fingers flicking the cigarette onto the floor. “Don’t sound too excited,” he scoffs with an eye roll.

What the fuck? You choke on the smoke, coughing loudly as you reply, “I’m not?”

“Whatever, let’s just go inside. Everyone’s been waiting for you.” Jake’s pushes off the brick wall, ready to walk past you and into the club, but you stop him by standing directly in his path.

“Move, Y/n,” he grits, stretching his neck out to avoid eye contact.

“No. Why are you being so pissy?”

“I’m not. Now move.” Jake tries walking around you, but you just scoot over and block him again.

“Jake,” you say sternly, trying to pull his attention to you, he’s upset and stubborn. “Look at me.”

Finally, he meets your expectant gaze, and the look in his eyes is one you’ve only ever seen during sex. “C’mon, wouldn’t wanna keep Kevin waiting,” he grumbles, a clear displeasure evident in his tone.

Finally, it clicked.

“Are you jealous?” You tease, chuckling slightly. His expression shifts from annoyance to embarrassment, mostly because he never thought you’d catch on or that he made it so obvious.

“You’re jealous!” You exclaim, trying hard to hold back your laughter. Once again, he scoffs, but he’s terrible at hiding his embarrassment.

“Aw Jake, don’t be jealous,” you tease.

“Video did get a lot of views though.” It’s true, the video brought a lot of traction to your account, but so did every single one of your other videos.

An idea pops into his mind at the revelation, but you don’t give him time to respond before you’re turning on your heel and excitedly walking into the club.

—

All night you’ve been working towards making Jake more jealous than he already was. All you had to do was stand close to Kevin, chat him up a bit, and pretend to be interested in whatever he quipped back. Kevin was definitely getting the wrong idea, but if it got you closer to Jake, it didn’t matter.

Jake’s eyes have been glued to you from the moment you entered the club, trained on your every move. His blood is boiling, his jaw is clenched, and his fists are bawled.

He needs to come up with an excuse to get you alone as quickly as possible, just so you two can make a video of your own. Honestly, he’ll be content for some alone time with you even if the camera isn’t involved.

Jake watches in jealousy as your hands grip Kevin’s bicep, supporting yourself as you throw your head back in laughter. Surely Kevin isn’t that funny.

Kevin’s arm manages to escape your grip and slither around your waist, his hand resting on your ass before squeezing it. You know Jake’s watching, so you let Kevin put on a show.

When Kevin slaps your ass, loudly and proudly, Jake decides he’s seen enough. So, he walks over to you without a real plan, but he’s being fueled by rage and jealousy.

Jake leans down in front of you, whispering into your ear, “Meet me in the parking lot.”

You struggle to hear him over the music and Kevin’s hold on you makes it hard to scoot in closer to him.

“What?” You whisper shout.

“Meet me in the parking lot,” Jake repeats, gritting his teeth and sending an unreadable look towards Kevin.

He’s quick to dismiss himself from everyone else, bidding his goodbyes as he walks out into the parking lot. As you watch his brooding figure disappear, your thighs subconsciously clench together. For some reason, the miserable, possessive aura that radiated from him was causing a heat to grow within you.

After some minutes, you make up an excuse as to why you need to leave. Something along the lines of, “I have an early day tomorrow.” Luckily, no one questions your excuse, or the way you giddily skip out of the club, not even Kevin.

When you exit the building and round the corner into the parking lot, you spot Jake leaning against the hood of his car. A cigarette sits between his lips, the lit end blinking with each inhale.

“No Kevin?” He says with a sly grin.

You cock an eyebrow at him. “I can go get him if you want?” You turn on your heels, pretending like you’re going to walk back into the club.

“I was kidding,” he grumbles, pulling your body into his roughly. You slam against him, your crotch hitting his already erect member.

Jake’s arms wrap around your waist, both hands landing on your ass. He squeezes firmly, massaging your skin repeatedly.

“Why’d you call me out here, Jake?” You ask, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.

“You know why,” he hums, applying pressure to your back until you’re basically grinding.

You decide to tease him, knowing that he’s so unbelievably horny that it’ll work him up even further. “I don’t know why, Jake. Care to explain?”

He’s still grinding himself into you, his breath becoming heavy with every passing second. Jake’s mind is going crazy with the thought of you on the back of his car, camera in your face, praising every inch of his body.

Jake’s head falls onto your shoulder, mouth latching onto the skin of your neck in a soft, sloppy attack of kisses. “Just thought we could… you know, make a video of our own,” he murmurs against your skin.

You want to give in, to take him right there in the middle of the parking lot, but you know that the further you push him, the greater the reward.

“We’ve made enough videos. They don’t bring in as many views as my other ones…” you say, stifling a moan. It’s a lie, but he doesn’t have to know that. Your videos with Jake are easily the most popular on your account.

“… As my videos with Kevin.”

Jake’s lips come to a halt, hands becoming stiff on your ass.

“Yeah?” Jake says.

“Yeah.” You reply, a stubborn underlying tone in your voice.

He unlocks his car, opening the back seat. “Get in.”

“What?” You laugh, slight confusion written on your face.

“You heard me,” he growls.

As you begin crawling into the backseat, his hand lands a firm slap on your ass.

“We’re gonna see how many views we can get you.”

—

Even though this is what you’ve wanted all night, now that you’re in the backseat of Jake’s car, you feel nervous. You’ve filmed videos like this before, yet you feel like a virgin anxiously awaiting to be touched.

Because you’re in a car, you have none of your camera equipment, so you’re wondering what Jake will record this on.

“C’mere,” Jake murmurs, catching sight of the way you anxiously play with the hem of your dress. “What happened to all that confidence?” He teases as you make your way onto his lap, finding a comfortable position over his crotch.

Instinctively, you grind onto him, but his hands are quick to stop you. “Uh uh. I’m in control, baby.”

“You were acting like a stupid brat. You think brats deserve to be rewarded?” He asks, pulling his phone out of his one pocket. You don’t answer, but you don’t have to because he does it for you, “They don’t. They get punished.”

The phone’s flash shines in your face, a clear indicator that he’s started recording. Suddenly, you become shy, because even if this is what you do for a living, it always feels more vulnerable and real with Jake.

A shocked gasp escapes your lips as he swiftly maneuvers you so that you’re lying across his lap. Your tight dress has managed to ride past your hips at this point, providing Jake the perfect view of your ass which he gladly captures on camera.

“You know what happens to brats, Y/n?” Jake asks, his unoccupied hand massaging your thighs and ass.

Your voice is squeaky as you try not to get lost in the feeling of his hands all over you, “Mmm— No.”

Suddenly, he delivers a quick slap to your bum. You weren’t expecting it, and you’re so lost in the moment that all you can manage to do is squeal.

“You like that?” He taunts, focusing the camera on the red handprint that’s forming on your skin. You bite your lip and nod your head, batting your eyelashes at him. Not only did you know that this would rile him up, but you actually did like that.

“Fucking brat,” he grits. Jake’s hand lands on your ass again, only slightly harder than before. The sting courses through your body, eliciting the smallest moan from you.

He delivers another slap. “I won’t stop until I know you’ve learned your lesson.” Slap.

You cover your mouth, attempting to muffle your moans and whimpers. But it’s no use, you’re enjoying this much more than you’d care to admit.

If it weren’t for the wetness that formed in your panties, you might’ve allowed this to continue all night. But, as he continues delivering slap after slap, all you can think about is the erection that is poking at your stomach.

So when he proposes the question, “Have you learned your lesson?”

You’re quick to reply with, “Yes. Yes, Daddy.”

The pet name flips a switch in Jake. It’s the first time anyone has ever referred to him as that, and he’s instantly addicted.

“Say it again.”

You crawl back into his lap, sitting right above his crotch. Your fingers weave through his hair and tug the strands.

Slowly, you lean close enough for your lips to graze his. “I learned my lesson,” you whisper, “Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he whimpers. Suddenly he doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to remain in control. There’s something about the way the word sounds coming from your sultry voice. It has him weak.

You grind onto his cock as you connect your lips with his. The kiss is sloppy, needy, and tastes of desire. Jake’s completely forgotten about the phone, tossing it to the side and allowing his hands to roam your body.

His strong, rough hands travel from your ass to your boobs, pulling the dress down until your breasts are free. He hungrily latches onto your nipples, sucking and nipping at the sensitive buds until your head is thrown back in pleasure.

Your body continues gyrating against his, the material of his jeans providing you with the slightest relief. It still wasn’t enough, though, you needed to feel him, all of him.

You pull his face back up to yours, capturing his lips in another heated makeout session. Moans and groans are swallowed by the kiss as his tongue slips into your mouth. You’re breathless, but the kiss is so much better than oxygen.

One of your hands begins palming him through his jeans, fumbling with the button and zipper in an attempt to free his cock.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg against his lips.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you so good,” he grunts, watching as you pull his pants down. Jake’s cock springs free, precum already leaking from the red, swollen tip.

As you pump him slowly, spreading his natural lubrication along his shaft, he uses one of his fingers to pull your panties to the side. The fabric pushes against your clit and the pressure is soon replaced with his fingers as he circles the bundle of nerves rhythmically.

You’re quick to position yourself over his cock, sitting on the tip momentarily before sinking down on it completely.

“Jake— fuck!” You moan, throwing your head onto his shoulder. Jake’s size always manages to overwhelm you.

You’re about to start bouncing on his dick, but he stops you with strong hands on your waist.

“That’s not my name.”

Rutting your hips in response earns you yet another slap to the ass.

“Don’t be a brat. Say my name,” he growls.

You clench around his girth, desperate for some sort of relief as he continues to hold you in place.

“Say.” Slap. “My.” Slap. “Name.” Slap.

Your asscheek is red and stinging, the need growing deep within your core. “Jake?” You tease, feigned innocence laced in your voice.

In an attempt to reposition himself, he bucks his hips upwards into you. You whimper at the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix.

“Wanna act stupid?” He asks, mostly to himself. He grabs the long forgotten phone, its flash once again illuminating your exposed body. “I’ll fuck you stupid then.”

In one swoop, Jake lays you on your back in the backseat. Your tits jiggle against the fabric of your dress that’s pooled beneath them, an excited giggle being the only thing keeping you from moaning.

“You won’t think shit’s funny when I’m done with you.”

His large hand slithers up your body, wrapping around your neck as he begins pounding into you relentlessly. Small hands wrap around his wrist as you try adjusting to the feeling.

He’s fucking you so fast, so good. Muffled and strained moans ring through the car, harmonizing with the sound of his skin slapping against yours.

Jake’s still pointing the camera in your face, capturing your fucked out expression perfectly. He expertly angles the camera down to your wet cunt, biting his lip at the sight he’s met with. His length plunges in and out of you repeatedly, squelching as it’s coated in your slick.

“Jake— I—,” you stutter through your words, the euphoric feeling of his dick suffocated between your walls clouding your mind with lust.

He pulls out of you completely, immediately missing the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him, but he needs to teach you a lesson.

Your hips lift from the leathery cushion beneath them, chasing his cock in a hungry haze. You whimper and claw at the wrist that’s wrapped around your throat, begging desperately for him to stuff you again.

“Say my name,” he commands. Your nose scrunches in indignation.

His grip on your throat loosens, that same hand traveling down to his aching cock. Jake teasingly traces the tip along your cunt, earning another hip buck from you.

“You know what to do, baby,” he teases.

“One word will give you everything you want.” He slaps the tip against your throbbing clit. You want to continue playing this game, but you know you won’t last long.

You sit up, propping yourself up on your elbows. The camera has the perfect view of your face and your pussy that clenches around nothing.

Your eyelashes bat against your cheeks as you bite your lip. “Please, Daddy. Please fuck me.”

As soon as the pet name leaves your mouth, Jake is diving back into you in a hungry frenzy. The force pushes you back onto your back. His pounding thrusts have you seeing stars, his tip kissing your cervix each time.

“Was that so fucking hard?” He grunts. One of his hands grips your waist, providing him with the leverage necessary to continue fucking you deep and hard. The other hand, is focused on filming every beautiful second of this. From the way you look wrapped around him, to the way your mouth falls open because of the sheer pleasure coursing through your veins.

His grunts bring you closer to the edge, especially when mixed with the filthy words that fall from his lips. “Did Kevin fuck you this good? Did his dick have you squirming and whimpering like this?”

You’re too fucked out to respond, causing Jake to pound into you even harder than before. “Hmm? Did he?”

“No, Daddy. No one fucks me this good— fuck!” Your eyes screw shut as he fucks you at a particularly delicious angle. “Only you do, Daddy. Only you.”

You feel your climax approaching quickly, so you slither your hand down to your clit. Your fingers rub circles into the sensitive bud as you chase your high.

Jake’s orgasm must be close too because his hips stutter and his movements become sloppier, a string of curse words and moans melodically falling on the skin of your neck.

“I’m coming!” You squeak.

Your legs convulse and shake as your orgasm washes over you, your core clenching around Jake’s cock as he continues pushing and pulling inside of you.

“Fuck. You feel so good, baby. So, so good,” he praises as your plushy walls continue clamping around his dick.

He’s so unbelievably close, all he needs is to hear you say his name one last time. “Say my name, baby. I’m so close.”

You chant the pet name like a mantra, kissing his sweaty chest and shoulders repeatedly to help him reach his orgasm. He loves the way you say it and would gladly listen to you say it forever if he could.

Jake’s hips snap into you one last time as hot, sticky ropes of cum paint your insides. A breathy, animalistic moan racks through his body as he collapses onto you.

For the first time in a long time, the weight of a man’s body on you doesn’t feel suffocating. Instead, it feels comforting and you’d love for him to remain this close to you for as long as possible.

But, unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. So, as you both recover from the powerful orgasms that just surged through your body, he pulls out of you slowly.

You immediately miss the feeling of him inside of you and as he turns the phone off, you find yourself wishing you were still under the spotlight, because maybe then the moment would last longer.

You sit up and adjust your dress. “Hope you got your footage,” you comment, attempting to sound nonchalant. “It’ll get a lot of views.”

Jake pulls his pants up, sending you a bewildered look. “You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m sharing this,” he chuckles.

Your brows furrow in confusion, a slight twinge of embarrassment painting your expression. “Was it not good enough?”

As you await his response, you crawl into the passenger seat. He follows suit shortly after, joining you in the driver’s seat.

“Was it not good enough?” He scoffs, restating your question like it’s an insult. “It was too good.”

A blush forms on your face. You don’t know what it is about Jake that always makes you feel like a giggly teenage girl.

“It was too damn good, baby. And Daddy doesn’t like sharing.”

Instinctively, your thighs press together. He always managed to rile you up within seconds.

“You’re mine, don’t forget that. I’m greedy,” Jake states.

You nod your head slowly.

“And whatever Daddy wants, Daddy gets.” His right hand rests on your thigh as the other works the steering wheel. *2

“Yes Daddy,” you whisper, earning yourself a squeeze. If it meant he’d fuck you like he just did, you were going to continue calling out his name.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n:

okay so I’m writing Arranged CH.2 rn, but this idea just came to me based on the two requests (linked). Also, I need a smut break tbh I NEED TO WRITE SOMETHING FLUFFY AND/ OR ANGSTY. which is what Arranged is perfect for 😏

I’m trying to gain the motivation to write frequently again so I can post more, but it’s a process. I’m getting there guys.

Thank you my sweet anons for these reqs (linked), hope you enjoy!!!

- L.A.M.B 👼🏻💗

—

1* Kendrick V. Drake, thoughts? Personally, I’m team Kendrick 🤔 the songs are too damn catchy

2* I know he says “whatever daddy wants, daddy gets,” as a joke, but let’s pretend he says it to get us all worked up. okay? Okay.

—

taglist: @nickgetsmewetter @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @aurizp @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @certifiednatelover @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @luvr4miya @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable @sugrhigh @khxna @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @callsignwidow

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

[thebellearchives]

𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

~ inumaki toge // fushiguro megumi ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : at night, you and your sorcerer friend take shelter in an inn room to take care of each other’s wounds

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, mentions of blood and injuries, making out, a bit suggestive maybe ?? (i’m still tagging it as fluff)

- gumi’s part: 'it’s complicated' friends to lovers, he tends to your wounds

- toge’s part : toge’s aware of your crush on him, you feel cursed energy through his kisses, onigiri ingredients in japanese, he uses harmless words at the very end, also uses cursed speech on you in the last sentence lol, you tend to his wounds

‧₊˚ a / n : wasn’t intending on posting this but anyways, this shots turned out kinda cute so, would’ve been sad to keep them to myself, also putting them together because both follow the same scenario and have many similarities

the reader feeling toge’s cursed speech was largely inspired by this 🫶🏻

also don’t question the fact that they’re in an inn room instead of the infirmary or smth okay just go with the flow bye 😭

• 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

You and Megumi somehow managed to check in the room without much questioning. Entering an inn late at night looking like you just got beat up was definitely something that would raise the front desk lady’s eyebrows, but you figured you had just gotten lucky.

You closed your eyes and sighed, Megumi’s footsteps came closer. You were sitting in the kitchen counter, knees apart from each other so Megumi could stand in between and attend to your wounds just like you had done before with his. His fingers lifted your chin up so he could see better under the room’s dim light. He pressed an alcohol drenched cotton ball lightly over your left eyebrow, making you jolt.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry” he mumbled “I’m almost done.”

Your eyelids opened slowly, finding him close to you, his dark eyes fixed on your wound. You studied his face in the meantime, long lashes contrasting with his pale clear skin, yet blending with his black irises.

“Can’t believe after all this time of being friends we just had our first mission together.”

“I’m guessing Gojo wasn’t sure of what would work well for us”

“That’s not what I mean, I mean we did great!”

He scoffed in slight amusement.

“Yeah, I knew we would”

“You mean you knew because I kicked your ass the last time we sparred?” a cheeky smile appeared on your face.

“As far as I remember, I was declared the winner” he raised an eyebrow

“Small details, truthfully it was a tie.”

“Right…” Megumi decided to cut the conversation, focusing more on wiping dry blood from your skin.

Finally he exhaled, his hand moved away, examining your face carefully. A soft frown appeared on his face as his eyes fell on your lips.

“Did you cut your lip?”

“Oh? Not that I’m aware of, it doesn’t hurt.”

“It’s bloody.”

Megumi’s fingers on your chin tensed up, sliding the cotton ball over your lip and then discarding it. He tilted your head to the right, blinking and squinting. With the same hand he was holding your jaw, he swiped his thumb over the lower lip.

With widened eyes you stared at him, alarm bells suddenly going off in your head and your irregular breathing hitting his skin, his gaze fixed on the way your soft lip molded under his fingertip. Tangled thoughts raced in your head, trying to figure out the sudden change in the atmosphere and the accelerating pace of your beating heart.

“It’s not wounded” Megumi’s voice was barely audible and you noticed the way his body had just gotten as stiff as yours, probably gaining awareness of the context you were both were surrounded by: him in between your thighs, under the cover of dim lightning and the silence of the night, being the closest to one another you had ever been.

Dark eyes wandered over your mouth, following his thumb as it now slid to the other side. Hesitantly, he moved even closer until his lips hovered over yours. The anticipation that filled the room made sure to cut off both your breathing and his. But then, Megumi closed the distance between your mouths, lashes lowering and hidden feelings bursting out into the open. Megumi’s kiss was soft, and you made sure to reciprocate slowly, easing into the unknown sensation of kissing him.

When the kiss stopped he remained still. Your shaky hands slid up his shirt, fingertips grasping the fabric to keep him in place for as long as the sweet burning sensation sat on your guts. You weren't sure of what came over yourself, maybe it was the curiosity of having him as more than a friend. Maybe it was the thoughts that had constantly whispered at the back of your head how attractive you thought he was, the thoughts you had made sure to ignore and so you never acted on them. Maybe it was the thrill of crumbling his aloof and distant demeanor in between your hands.

Maybe it had been all of those things together, but you slightly and eagerly nudged your nose against his. And so he kissed you again, with a deep sigh of surrender and his hands roaming up your thighs. The sounds of kissing filled the kitchen, your tongue sliding across his tongue, his hungry mouth now fighting against your, your fists pulling from his shirt. His fingers squeezed your skin, a breathy exhale left your throat almost becoming a soft whine.

Megumi’s hands then settled on your hips, until he suddenly stopped, freezing in place and then pulling away from you to search for your eyes. You stared back in a bit of a daze.

“What…” the black haired sorcerer tried to form a coherent sentence, but it seemed like his brain for once wasn’t cooperating.

“I…” you cleared your throat, blinking a couple of times “I don’t know.”

He swallowed, trying to find words once again.

“Listen, I…”

“It’s okay” nervously you tightened your grip on his shirt, now anxious of letting him go “we don’t have to talk about this today or tomorrow. We can just… forget it happened.”

Slowly, Megumi nodded.

“We can just let it be… for tonight.”

“Yeah” you pulled him close again, his body relaxed as he followed your movement and searched for your lips once more.

“Yeah, just for tonight…”

• 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄

Toge’s eyes followed you around as you picked and discarded objects from the first aid kit. At first he was annoyed at how much you had insisted on taking care of the wounds your last fight had inflicted, but at a certain point he had stopped complaining and just… stared. Now, you knew Toge wasn’t one to say much, because he couldn’t, but even when he didn’t say actual normal words he also wasn’t one to shut up. There was always some 'okaka's and 'tuna's and he would gesticulate here and there, he just had to let you know his opinion on absolutely everything. But now… he was absolutely silent.

You walked over to the kitchen counter, where he had sat down begrudgingly and now he was just lazily waiting.

“Bend over a little, will you?” you sighed, wet cotton in your hand.

His lavender eyes stared curiously, but he did as you asked and moved closer so you could reach for his face. There was a bloody scrape right next to his brow, product of a bad landing during the fight with the curse. You held your breath to gain courage and put aside your romantic feelings for the boy, then reached to cup his cheek with your left hand in order to keep him steady and started cleaning the almost dry blood.

He winced, a pitiful expression appeared on your face.

“Sorry” your voice softened “I’ll be finished soon, don’t worry, this is the last one.”

You expected him to say something, he would’ve usually just muttered a 'shake' or something, and yet he didn’t. When you were finally done you sighed once again, lowering your hands and grasping the edge of the counter.

“Alright, that’s it, why aren’t you speaking to me?” Toge raised a brow, as if your question was ridiculous to him “don’t look at me like that, you know what I mean.”

He pressed his lips against each other and then shrugged.

“Are you mad at me?” your brows almost touched, his eyes widened.

“Okaka” he immediately shook his head.

“Oh, so now you’re talking” he snorted, finally letting a small smile shine through “there’s something off, I can tell…”

He bit his lip and shrugged again, this time pointing to his head with his index.

“Thinking?”

“Shake”

“About what?”

His eyes seemed to shine in a peculiar way, trying to hold back a smirk. It was almost as if he had been waiting for you to ask that question for a while. Toge pointed at you, made a small heart with his index and thumb, and then pointed at himself. You blinked about twice, blankly.

“You’re thinking… about you and me?”

He squinted and motioned 'more less', then repeated the previous gesture: you, heart, him.

“You’re thinking…” you heart him. Suddenly your eyes widened, a blush rapidly crept up your face “you’re thinking i like you?”

Toge then grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

“Huh” you exhaled nervously, eyes shying away from him “right when i thought i was the best at understanding you seems like i still don’t get what is going on inside that head of yours.”

He chuckled, his right hand searched for his phone in his pocket and then quickly typed something up in the notes app. You just expectantly watched him as he conveyed his thoughts into written words.

“I’m not thinking you like me, i’m thinking i know you like me”

“Narcissistic much?” you quirked one of your eyebrows and he snorted “what makes you think that?”

“Just the way you look at me, and the way you act around me. Panda had pointed it out before but i’m just now thinking maybe he was right”

“I treat you just like all of my other friends!” you looked up at his eyes again, this time in defiance, but he tilted his head, raising his brows in disbelief “alright then, what have i done with you that i wouldn’t have done with anyone else?”

With a smile, Toge rubbed his cheek and then placed his index right on top of yours.

“Blushing?”

“Shake”

“You’re insinuating that I have romantic feelings for you, of course i’m gonna be embarrassed!”

Rolling his eyes, he nodded. Then, he cupped your left cheek, raising your face towards his and supporting your chin with his ring finger and pinky. You frowned, quickly catching up with the fact that he was holding your face in the same way you had done just moments before.

“… I was just taking care of you…” your whisper worsened your blush.

“always”

He chuckled at your shocked expression, the sound waves of his harmless words making you shiver. It wasn’t everyday that he’d risk speaking normally.

“… well, yes, i care for you”

“a lot” you bit your lip, there was no denying that, so you swallowed your nerves and looked away, he snickered “you’re cute”

Once again the surprise froze you, the power in his voice making your body tremble, what he had said made a sweet nervous feeling flutter around your stomach. He leaned in, you held your breath. Toge placed a lovely kiss on your lips, and you delicately but firmly kissed him back, the sliding of his lips on yours enticing and elating. A soft wave of cursed energy flowed through your mouth, but the moment he slid his tongue on your lower lip and you opened your mouth it rose in intensity. You had to cling from his shirt to keep yourself steady, the moment his marked tongue brushed against yours a sharp wave of electricity ran down your throat, pulling a whimper out from your vocal chords.

He pulled back to look at you and you panicked, embarrassed.

“I’m- oh god i’m so sorry!” your face was burning red at that point “it’s just that- i can feel your cursed energy.”

His eyes widened with surprise and worry, hopping off the counter his hands grabbed your shoulders.

“Takana?!”

“I’m fine! I’m totally fine” cupping his face you tried to comfort him, and it worked, he relaxed, but you pulled him closer again, your noses brushing “it felt… really nice…”

You lips searched for his, Toge smirked in amusement to your reaction, but he complied. So slowly, he kissed you again. The feeling of his energy running trough you seemed to make the blood in your veins rush in bliss, pulling sounds from the depths of your chest. Suddenly his hand slithered to the back of your head and he deepened the kiss, the mark on his tongue making contact with yours and making you gasp and jolt against his body. Toge giggled, but caught you in his arms, resting his back on the counter.

“Come on Toge, won’t you have mercy on me?” you complained, Toge shook his head slowly, and by the way he smiled you knew he was about to pull one of his stunts.

“Be louder” his lips immediately crashed back onto yours.

[itneverendshere]

hi again! so I've been meaning to send a request, but before i go about it I wish to say it's completely okay if you're not inspired by this, or if you simply don't want to write it, i would hate myself if I made you overwhelmed or smth. love you anyways 💕 so for the request: reader who's autistic. she's not very talkative nor socially active, never had a boyfriend, has one or two friends, yet somehow rafe notices her and finds her endearing. she's okay being herself with her friends, like she's funny, kind and passionate about her interests (like geek stuff, fantasy books, animals and such). she has zero flirting experience and is always dismissive towards rafe bc she doesn't think someone could like her romantically, and she's always suspicious of people bc they've wronged her in the past (in my experience as an autistic person i tend to believe everything ppl say and am kinda naive, so ppl played me or said unrealistic things and I believed them, which then is a reason for laughter, now I'm always suspicious to ppl's intentions). I'm giving you creative freedom with this, just wanted an autistic reader for once :) if you feel like writing it but need to know more abt autism, you can just post question and I'll answer in your asks, if that's okay. Just a reminder again before I go: feel free to decline this request, I know it might not be something cool to write and that's okay ☺️ love you lots, thank you for your time!

i tried my best, hope you like it 🫶🏼 and if you don't lmk so i can do better!! this was really fun since it's a compeltely new topic of inspiration. kinda left an "open" ending bc i couldn't make my mind up lmao. thank you for the resquest and sorry it took me a while to finally do it 🫂

got dreams but i can't make myself believe them - r.c

paring: rafe x autistic!reader word count: 6.9k

The party was a mistake. You knew it the moment you walked in, the thumping music and crush of people making your skin crawl. Your friends had been relentless, insisting that you needed to “get out more” and “live a little,” despite your repeated attempts to explain that “getting out” meant something different to you.

But somehow, you’d caved, and now you were standing awkwardly in the corner of a stranger’s living room, clutching your book like it was a life vest. You needed to stop letting them drag you everywhere.

It was the typical college party scene, at least the one's you'd heard or read about before. Red solo cups everywhere, groups of people huddled on couches or pressed together on the so called dance floor, and a few already-drunk guys yelling loudly in the kitchen.

This was supposed to be fun?

“Just stay for an hour,” they said. “If it’s really that bad, you can leave.”

Right. Except an hour felt like an eternity when you were trapped in a sensory nightmare. You took a deep breath, scanning the crowded room. There were people everywhere—laughing, dancing, chattering loudly in clumps—and the noise was a constant, overwhelming buzz in your ears.

This was definitely a mistake.

So, you did what you always did in these situations: you found a place to hide. After walking through the drunk college students, you eventually ended up on quiet nook near the back of the house. It was a small room, probably some sort of den or study. Blessedly, it was empty. With a sigh of relief, you settled into an oversized armchair, opened your book, and let the world outside your pages melt away.

Time slipped by as you read, the noise of the party changing into a distant hum. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even notice when someone stumbled into the room until a loud crash jolted you out of your fictional word. He nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself at the last second with a slurred, “Shit.”

You looked up to find a guy standing unsteadily in the doorway, blinking blearily at you. He was tall, with tousled hair and a loose, easy grin that spoke of far too many drinks. His eyes were a striking blue even in the low light, and it took you a second to place him.

Rafe Cameron.

Oh, God. You knew him—well, of him, at least. He was in your sociology class, always sitting a few rows behind you with his gaggle of equally charming friends. He’d never spoken to you before, though, and you’d never had a reason to pay him much attention.

Until now.

Then his face split into a lazy grin, and he swaggered—no, stumbled—into the room, somehow managing to make even that look effortless.

“Heyyy,” he drawled, leaning heavily against the arm of the chair across from you. “It’s… it’s you.”

You blinked at him. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he slurred, squinting like he was trying to see you clearly. “T-The girl from my class. The quiet one.”

Your stomach did a weird flip, part confusion, part disbelief. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded sagely, as if you’d just confirmed some great truth. “You’re the uh, the smart one. With the books.” He gestured vaguely at the one in your hands. “Always sittin’ up front, all… all cute n'shit.”

Your cheeks burned. Was he seriously calling you cute? No. He was drunk—really drunk. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying.

“Do you need help?” you asked cautiously. “You look—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off, straightening up as if to prove it, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he swayed on his feet. “Needed to get away from those idiots out there. Too many people.”

You almost laughed. Rafe Cameron, overwhelmed by people? The guy who was always surrounded by friends, girls practically draped over him like accessories? But he looked sincere—well, as sincere as a drunk person could look.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, gesturing to the empty chair. “You, um, might fall over if you don’t.”

“Pfft, I’m not gonna—” He paused mid-sentence, wobbling precariously. Then, as if he’d just made the smartest decision of his life, he plopped down in the chair, sprawling out like he owned the place.

“See? Told ya m'fine,” he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help but snort. “Right.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his gaze roaming over your face “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked abruptly.

You glanced at your book, then back at him. "Reading?”

“No, I mean… here,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely around the room. “At this shitty party.”

You shrugged, feeling awkward. “My friends dragged me. I didn’t really want to come.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and for a moment, he looked almost sober. “Yeah, same.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, a flash of the cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen in class. “Yeah, well… they’re fucking assholes, but they’re my assholes, y'know?”

You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.”

“So, what’s that book about?”

You hesitated. “Um… it’s a fantasy novel.”

“Fantasy, huh?” He tilted his head, eyeing the cover. “Like wizards and dragons n'shit?”

“Sort of,” you admitted. “It’s about a girl who finds out she has magic and goes on a quest to—”

“Save the world?” he finished with a mock-solemn expression.

“...Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Bet it is,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re really into that stuff, huh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged, his smirk softening into something that almost looked like genuine interest. “You looked happy, talkin’ about it.”

Your heart did another weird little flip, and you frowned, pushing the feeling down. He was drunk. This didn’t mean anything. He probably wouldn’t even remember it in the morning.

But then, his eyes drifted shut, his head lolling back against the chair. Within seconds, he was snoring. You sat there, stunned.

What the hell had just happened?

Three days later, you were sitting in your usual spot in the lecture hall, flipping through your notes. Class was about to start, and the room was filling up with the usual pre-lecture chatter. You were just getting settled when someone slid into the seat beside you.

You glanced up, expecting one of your friends. But it wasn’t.

It was Rafe.

“Hey, friend,” he said casually, like you hadn’t left him passed out at a party a few nights ago.

You stared at him, completely disoriented. “Hi?”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair like this was completely normal. “Didn’t think I’d forget about you, huh?”

Your eyes narrowed. “I… yeah, actually.”

Rafe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”

Did he just give you a nickname?

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “You, sitting there all cute with your book, talking about magic and shit. Thought I was too drunk to remember, huh?”

“I—” You stared at him, completely off balance. “Why are you here?”

“Because I want to be,” he said simply. “Got a problem with that?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “No?”

“Good.” He flashed you a grin, all cocky charm. “So, you gonna tell me more about that book, or what?”

You gaped at him. “You actually want to hear about it?”

“Why not?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It made you smile.”

And for some reason, that simple statement knocked the breath out of you.

“Okay,” you said, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate prank.

But Rafe just leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ll stick around.”

The next few classes were…weird, to say the least. Ever since Rafe decided you were his new "friend," he’d taken to sitting beside you every lecture, plopping down in the empty seat as if he’d been there all along. It was confusing. Most of the time, he’d breeze in at the last possible minute, sauntering up to your row without so much as a greeting and settling into the chair with that infuriatingly self-assured smirk.

You were already seated, your notebook open and your pen poised to start taking notes when he dropped into the seat beside you with his usual nonchalance. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, casting you a sidelong look as if daring you to acknowledge him first.

“Hi,” you said quietly, eyes flicking back to the front of the room.

“Hey, princess,” he replied, voice low and teasing.

You kept your gaze firmly on your notebook. You’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with him was to pretend his presence didn’t affect you—no matter how much his proximity messed with you.

He’d spent the last three classes nudging your foot under the desk, passing snide comments under his breath, or leaning over just close enough to murmur sarcastic observations about whatever the professor was droning on about. And today was no different.

The lecture started, Professor Callahan launching into her usual detailed overview of sociological theory. You tried to focus, pen flying across your notebook as you jotted down her points.

“Is she always this boring?” he whispered, leaning in slightly so his arm brushed against yours.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your notes. “If you listened, it wouldn’t be so boring.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna waste my time listening to her go on about… what is it today? Class structure?”

“Yes,” you hissed, refusing to look at him. “And if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to—”

“You’re going to what?” he challenged, his grin audible in his voice.

You snapped your mouth shut, trying to ignore the way his leg brushed against yours under the desk. He was doing it on purpose—nudging your knee every so often, shifting just a little closer until the faint scent of his cologne surrounded you. It was infuriating. And yet, when you glanced sideways at him, he was looking at you with that maddening, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.

“Just pay attention,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.

“Why would I do that when I have such a pretty view right here?”

Your head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”

But Rafe just smirked, his gaze drifting lazily up and down your face before flicking back to the front of the room as if he hadn’t just made your brain short-circuit. 

“Relax, princess. Just messin' with you.”

You swallowed, trying to refocus on the lecture. His attention was like a physical thing—intense and all-consuming. It made you uneasy. 

Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you forced yourself to look at the professor, tuning out the heat of Rafe’s gaze. Professor Callahan was in the middle of explaining something about social hierarchies when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

“Mr. Cameron.”

The entire class fell silent.

You looked up, eyes widening in surprise as Professor Callahan fixed Rafe with a stern look. “I’m aware that I’m not as pretty as your classmate,” she said dryly, gesturing toward you, “but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention for at least ten minutes.”

A ripple of snickers spread through the room, and your cheeks flamed scarlet. Rafe, however, didn’t even blink, he was completely unruffled and offered the professor a lazy, arrogant smile. “Sorry, Professor. Just got a little distracted.”

Your stomach dropped. He was staring at you, unabashedly.

The professor raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. “Would you mind keeping your distractions to yourself until after class?”

Another murmur of laughter swept through the room, and you shrank in your seat, mortified. His smirk widened, but he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Of course, ma’am,” he drawled. “No more distractions.”

Professor Callahan gave him a pointed look, then turned back to the board, resuming her lecture. You sat there, face burning, refusing to look anywhere near Rafe, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“Guess I got you in trouble, huh?” he whispered, leaning closer.

You grit your teeth, still staring resolutely at the front of the room. “Stop talking.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “You’re way more interesting than this shit.”

“Rafe, I swear—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” he said lightly, sitting back. But he didn’t take his eyes off you. You could feel him lingering, warm and intent, and you wanted to scream. How was he so calm? So unaffected, like getting called out by the professor was just a minor inconvenience?

You hated every second of it.

“Rafe,” you hissed under your breath, finally daring to glance at him. “Will you just—”

“What?” He leaned in again, eyes bright with mischief. “You want me to go back to ignoring you?”

“Stop staring.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t promise that, princess.”

Your heart hammered, and you squeezed your pen so tightly it nearly snapped. “Why are you even here?”

He shrugged, his expression turning oddly serious. “I like sitting next to you.”

Rafe Cameron—the arrogant, cocky asshole you’d written off as nothing more than a nuisance—had just chosen to stay by your side.

As soon as class ended, you gathered your things in record time, heart still thumping wildly. The room buzzed with students shuffling out, but you kept your head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

Maybe if you were quick enough, you could escape before he decided to make good on his new, annoying habit of sticking to you like glue. But, of course, he was nothing if not persistent.

You’d barely slung your bag over your shoulder when he appeared at your side, his tall frame looming over you as he fell into step like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Heading to lunch?” he asked, all casual charm, as if he hadn’t just spent the entire class making you the center of unwanted attention.

“Yes?” You tried not to sound as thrown as you felt, but the way he looked at you—with that infuriatingly lazy grin—told you he could see right through you.

“Cool. I’m starving.” He said it like it was an invitation, like he was entitled to follow you, and before you could muster up a half-hearted protest, he was already steering you through the crowded hallway.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demanded, glancing around in panic. People were staring, eyes widening as they took in the sight of Rafe Cameron, of all people, trailing after you. Whispers flitted through the air, curious and disbelieving, and you shrank under the scrutiny, feeling painfully exposed.

“Uh, going to lunch with you?” He made it sound so obvious, his voice lilting with amusement.

“I didn’t invite you!” You glanced at him, trying to tamp down the fluttery, nervous feeling his presence always seemed to stir up. “What if I’m eating with someone else?”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll eat with them too.”

You gawked at him. “What?”

But Rafe just flashed you that cocky, confident grin. “Relax. It’s just lunch.”

Just lunch, he said, like this wasn’t completely absurd.

You narrowed your eyes, debating whether to make a break for it, but he was already steering you toward the main quad, his hand ghosting the small of your back in a way that made your skin tingle. 

Your heart hammered as the familiar outdoor seating area came into view. Your friends were already there, sitting at your usual table—a small group of two girls and a guy, all talking animatedly. You hadn’t even sat down yet, and they still managed to look up as one, their expressions morphing from curious to shocked when they caught sight of you—and Rafe—heading straight toward them.

“Uh, hey,” you greeted awkwardly as you approached. They just stared, mouths agape.

Emily was the first to recover. “What the—since when do you two know each other?” she asked, eyes darting between you and Rafe like she was seeing some kind of glitch in the matrix.

“Yeah, what’s going on here?” Max, the guy in your small circle, chimed in, his gaze flicking to Rafe warily. “Is this, like… a project thing?”

“No, it’s not—” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a breezy smile.

“Can’t believe y’all kept her to yourselves this whole time,” he drawled, pulling out the chair beside yours and plopping down like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Thought you’d have the decency to introduce me to the most interesting girl on campus.”

Your friends gaped, eyes wide with shock. You could practically see their brains short-circuiting. Meanwhile, you were fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.

“Please shut up,” you muttered under your breath, cheeks burning.

But he just smirked, his gaze sliding over your stunned friends with lazy amusement. “What?” he said innocently. “It’s true.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Emily demanded, still staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You—you and Rafe Cameron?”

You sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment. “There is no ‘me and Rafe Cameron.’ He just—he’s being annoying.”

“Annoying?” he repeated, feigning offense. “C’mon. I thought we were past that.”

“We are not past anything,” you snapped, shooting him a glare. But that only seemed to amuse him more.

“Okay, back up,” Max interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you guys even know each other?”

“Uh, sociology class?” you offered weakly, as if that explained anything. “He’s been sitting next to me.”

“Sitting next to you?” Emily repeated slowly, like she was trying to process a particularly difficult equation. “And now you’re… eating lunch together?”

“It’s not—” You looked helplessly at Rafe, who was watching the exchange with that insufferable smirk. “I didn’t ask him to.”

He looked completely unfazed by the mess he’d caused. “What can I say? I like the company.”

“Since when?” Emily shot back, clearly unconvinced.

Rafe shrugged, “Since she started talking to me.”

Your friends fell silent, eyes wide and suspicious as they turned to you, searching for answers. But you just sat there, feeling utterly, hopelessly lost. What were you supposed to say? That Rafe Cameron had decided, out of nowhere, to insert himself into your life? That he was following you to lunch like this was some sort of normal occurrence?

“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s really not a big deal. He’s just—”

“Rafe Cameron is never ‘just’ anything,” Emily interrupted, folding her arms as she fixed Rafe with a suspicious look. “So what are you up to?"

“Nothing,” Rafe said easily, his smile all sharp edges. “Like I said, I’m just getting to know her.”

“Getting to know her,” Max echoed, clearly skeptical.

“Yeah.” Rafe’s eyes never left yours, his eyes gleaming with something that made your pulse flutter. “What’s so weird about that?”

Your friends exchanged looks. You didn’t blame them. This was weird. More than weird. You’d never been the kind of girl to attract attention—especially not from someone like Rafe. Popular, arrogant, and completely out of your league in every possible way. And yet, here he was, acting like sitting with you at lunch was the most natural thing in the world.

“So,” He said suddenly, turning his attention back to the group, “Are you gonna sit here gaping all day, or are we gonna eat?”

Emily blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Uh, yeah, we’re… we’re eating.”

“Good.” Rafe turned to you, eyebrow raised. “You eating, princess?”

You stared at him, “I—yes?”

“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re offering to get me lunch?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Now, what do you want?”

“I—” You swallowed, glancing at your friends, who were watching the exchange like it was some sort of bizarre performance. “Um, a sandwich?”

“Got it.” Rafe pushed to his feet, his smile smug. “Be right back.”

And then, to your utter disbelief, he sauntered off toward the food line, leaving you and your friends staring after him.

“What,” Max said slowly, “the hell just happened?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”

The awkward lunch with Rafe didn’t end as badly as you expected.

Your friends had spent the entire time shooting you confused, bewildered looks, while he seemed to thrive under their scrutiny, lounging beside you like he belonged. He didn’t flirt—thank God—but he didn’t exactly tone down his usual cocky self either. By the end of it, he’d somehow managed to charm your friends just enough to leave them confused rather than outright hostile. Still, after that lunch, you’d expected him to lose interest, to move on to his usual crowd and forget all about his bizarre little experiment. But of course, he wasn’t known for playing by the rules.

You learned that the hard way two days later.

It was late afternoon, and you were holed up in the campus library, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes for an upcoming exam. The library was your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and blissfully free of distractions. At least, until Rafe sauntered in. You didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in your notes. The library was busy, students murmuring as they worked, the rustle of pages and the faint clack of keyboards filling the air. You were hunched over a particularly dense passage in your sociology textbook when you felt it—

You stiffened, glancing up cautiously, and there he was.

He leaned against the bookshelf a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you with a lazy, assessing look. He didn’t move, just watched you, his lips quirking in that infuriating smirk when your eyes met.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously. No one seemed to be paying attention, but you still felt like the entire room was suddenly staring.

“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.

“Since when do you study in the library?”

“Since now,” he said easily, pushing off the bookshelf and strolling over to your table. He pulled out the chair across from you, dropping into it like he had every right to be there. “What? Can’t a guy broaden his horizons?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”

“Not today, princess.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he peered at your open book. “So, what’re we learning?”

“We are not learning anything,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I’m studying. You are… I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Keeping you company,” he said simply. “You looked lonely.”

Your mouth fell open. “Lonely?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your face. “All holed up in here with your books. Thought I’d help.”

What was he even talking about? This was insane. He didn’t just hang out in the library, especially not to “keep someone company.” He was the kind of guy who spent his free time at parties, or on the field, or wherever people like him thrived. And yet, here he was, sitting across from you in the library like this was normal.

“Rafe,” you said slowly, “you don’t even know what I’m studying.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you’re trying to help,” you shot back, frustration seeping into your voice. “You’re—what are you even—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down. Just trying to see what’s got you all riled up.”

You bit back a groan, rubbing your temples. This was absurd. You didn’t need—didn’t want—his attention.

“Fine,” you muttered, turning your textbook around so he could see the page. “I’m going over Durkheim’s theory of social integration.”

Rafe leaned in, squinting at the page. “Durkheim, huh?”

“Yes,” you said, a little impatiently. “He believed that society functions through a collective conscience—shared beliefs and values that bind people together.”

“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.

“It’s not boring,” you retorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s actually really interesting—he argued that a lack of social integration could lead to anomie, a state of normlessness that causes people to feel disconnected and isolated.”

Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. At least it felt that way to you.

“What?” you demanded, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugged, a strange, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Just… you get really into this stuff, don’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed. “It’s sociology. It’s important.”

“Yeah, but…” He shook his head, “It’s kinda cute.”

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting. “Cute?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a casual, easy confidence that made your heart flutter. “You get all intense when you talk about it. Like, you actually care.”

“I—I do care,” you stammered, “It’s my major.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I like that about you.”

What—what was that supposed to mean? Why was he looking at you like that, like he actually meant it?

Before you could even begin to untangle your thoughts, a shadow fell over the table, and you glanced up to see another student standing there—a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and glasses. He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of your classes.

“Uh, hey,” the guy said awkwardly, glancing between you and Rafe. “Are—are you using this seat?”

Rafe’s expression changed instantly, “Yeah,” he said flatly. “We are.”

The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just—”

“You just can find another table,” Rafe cut in, “We’re a little busy here.”

You gaped at him, mortified. “Rafe, stop.”

But he didn’t even glance at you. He just kept staring down the poor guy, his posture tense and unyielding until, with a muttered apology, the student backed off, scurrying away like he’d just had a close encounter with a predator.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “He just wanted to sit down!”

“Yeah, and we’re studying,” Rafe said dismissively. “No room for distractions.”

“We’re not studying anything!” you shot back, resisting the urge to smack him. “You’re just sitting here, being—being weird.”

“Not weird,” he corrected, leaning in again. “Protective.”

You froze, your mouth going dry. “Protective?”

“Yeah.” His eyes were dark, intense, locking onto yours. “Can’t have just anyone bothering you, can I?”

After the bizarre encounter in the library, you were convinced Rafe would drop this whole… whatever it was. Surely, following you to lunch and then “protecting” you in the library was enough.

So when you found yourself at another party two nights later—dragged along by Emily despite your vehement protests—you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. Because somehow, no matter where you went, Rafe had made it his mission to seek you out.

“Come on, you need to have some fun,” Emily had insisted, half-pulling, half-dragging you through the front door of one of the fraternity houses on campus. The music was already blaring, the heavy bass vibrating through your body. People were packed in the main room, laughing, talking, drinking, the buzz of chatter filling the air.

“This isn’t my idea of fun,” you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself as you tried to avoid brushing against the partygoers. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, exactly—it was just that the noise, the sheer volume of people could get overwhelming quickly.

“Just stay for an hour,” Emily pleaded. “Please? I swear it’ll be more fun than you think. We can dance, have a few drinks—”

“I don’t dance,” you cut in flatly, giving her a pointed look.

“Okay, fine, I’ll dance, and you… can hang out and people-watch,” she amended, undeterred. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

You gave her a withering stare. “Yeah, because I’m such a social butterfly.”

You sighed, resigned to your fate, and began making your way through the press of bodies. After a few minutes you managed to find a relatively quiet corner in the back, near the stairs, and gratefully leaned against the wall. Maybe if you stayed out of sight long enough, Emily would give up on trying to get you to socialize and let you leave early. It was a long shot, but you could hope.

You hadn’t been there long when you felt it—the now-familiar prickling sensation of someone’s gaze lingering on you. Sure enough, when you glanced up, there he was.

Rafe, in all his infuriating glory, leaning against the wall a few feet away, his eyes locked on you with that lazy focus that made your heart stutter. He looked unfairly good, dressed in a dark button-up that clung to his frame in all the right ways, his hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly cool. And, as usual, he was watching you like you were the only person in the room.

You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach twisting in irritation and something else. “Are you stalking me now?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

Rafe’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “Would it be so bad if I was?”

“Yes,” you said flatly. “It would be very bad.”

He chuckled, the sound low, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Relax, princess. I just saw you standing here all alone and thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you can leave.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few long strides until he was standing directly in front of you, his presence overwhelming.

You tried to step back, but the wall blocked your escape.

“Actually, I was thinking we could, I don’t know, hang out for a bit?” he suggested, tilting his head as he regarded you with a faux-innocent smile.

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Rafe blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why?”

“Yes,” you insisted, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Why do you keep… doing this? Showing up, sitting with me, following me to lunch, acting like—like we’re friends or something. What is your deal, Cameron?”

Slowly he reached up, bracing one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“My deal,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “is that I like you.”

No. No, no, no.

That couldn’t be right. People didn't just like you. They tolerated you, maybe, or found you useful sometimes, but they didn't like you. Not like that. Not in the way he was implying. You felt panic rising in your chest, like a wave that was too big to stop. You couldn’t stop it.

“You’re lying,” you said shakily, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re just—this is some kind of game, isn’t it? Some—some bet, or—”

Rafe’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching. “It’s not a game,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You swallowed hard, your chest aching. No, this couldn’t be happening. This didn’t make sense.

“I don’t believe you,” you shook your head stubbornly.

His eyes narrowed, “No?”

“No,” you repeated, crossing your arms defiantly. “You’re just… you. You can’t just decide you like me out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t decide,” he murmured, “It just happened.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

“I—” You broke off, struggling to find words, but before you could answer, a loud voice interrupted.

“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”

You both jerked back, startled, and you glanced over to see one of Rafe’s friends—Topper, if you remembered correctly—stumbling over, a wide grin plastered across his face.

“What are you doing back here?” Topper slurred, his gaze sliding to you. He blinked, “Who’s this?”

Rafe stepped in front of you slightly, his posture tense and protective. “Doesn’t matter,” he said curtly, “Go find someone else to bother.”

Topper blinked, taken aback. “Whoa, man, chill. I was just—”

“Go,” Rafe repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

Topper stared at him for a long moment, then slowly backed off, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was gone, Rafe turned back to you, his eyes softening again.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to—”

“Why did you do that?” you cut in, your heart still pounding.

Rafe frowned. “Do what?”

“Get rid of him,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “He was your friend. Why would you—”

Maybe you’d misread him. Maybe he didn’t actually mean any of what he said. He was probably just bored, looking for some amusement—another toy to play with for a little while.

“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”

You blinked, bewildered. “But he’s your friend.”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “So? Doesn’t mean I want him interrupting us.”

Us. Like there was an “us.” Like there could ever be an “us.”

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I don’t get it. You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a way that made it hard to breathe. “More than you think.”

You frowned. It was impossible to shake the nagging feeling that he was just… playing with you. That this was all some sick joke and at any moment, the punchline would hit, and you’d be the idiot.

“You’re just messing with me,” you muttered, taking a small step back to put some space between you. “You’re bored or something.”

“I’m not bored,” he said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap you’d just created. “I told you, I wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this. You’ve been following me around, showing up where I am, saying all these things like—like we’re something, but we’re not.”

Rafe stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? You really think I’m just messing around?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted, throwing your hands up. “Yes, I do! Why else would you be doing this? You’re Rafe Cameron, for god’s sake. You don’t even like me. This is just some twisted game to you, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, trying to read his face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty, any sign that this was all an act. But all you saw was that same intensity, that same focus, like you were the only person who mattered.

Your chest tightened, panic grazing at you. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. People didn’t just… like you. They didn’t seek you out at parties or show up in libraries to talk about sociology. Guys like Rafe didn’t choose people like you. There had to be some ulterior motive.

“You show up out of nowhere, act like I’m some project, some… someone who needs your protection—why, Rafe? Because I don’t fit into your world? Because I’m some joke to you and your friends?”

“That’s not it,” He growled, his voice defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You haven’t been honest about anything. You haven’t given me a reason to believe any of this.”

“You think I’m lying? 

You moved your head again, harder this time. “That doesn’t make sense. You’re—you’re saying things that don’t make sense. I don’t understand.”

He took a slow, poising breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "What doesn't make sense to you?" 

"All of this," you replied, your voice quivering with frustration, "You, acting like you—like you actually care. Like you see me. People don’t just do that, not for someone like me. I don’t—" You cut yourself off, not sure how to finish the sentence, your thoughts spiraling.

It wasn’t just that you couldn’t believe him; it was that you didn’t know how to believe him. Your experiences had taught you to be wary, to always look for the catch, because there always was one.

Always.

Rafe's brows drawn together in something that almost looked like concern. "Someone like you?" he repeated, "What does that even mean?"

You swallowed, feeling your insecurities gripping down on your chest. "It means I’m not… like you. I don’t know how to talk to people, I don’t get things right all the time. People don’t notice me, and when they do, it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong, or because they want something from me. That’s just how it is."

He shook his head slowly. "That’s not how I see you."

You opened your mouth to argue, to say something—anything—to dismiss what he was saying, to protect yourself from the disappointment that was sure to come. But Rafe didn’t give you the chance. 

"You think I’m messing with you because you’re not like everyone else? Is that it? You think I’m playing some kind of game because you don’t fit into some stupid idea of who’s supposed to matter?" 

You wanted to pull away, to recoil into the safety of your doubts, but something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you, made you stop.

"I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you," Rafe continued, no less serious. "But I know enough to know that I’m not bored. I don’t care if you don’t fit in with my world, or whatever you think that means. I like that you’re passionate about the things you care about. I like that you don’t put up with anyone’s shit—not even mine." A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve spent enough time around fake people to know the difference."

You weren’t used to this—this kind of sincerity. It felt too real. And part of you still wanted to push it away, to reject it before it had a chance to hurt you. But another part of you—a much smaller, quieter part—was whispering that maybe he meant it.

"Why me?"

"Because you're you," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

For a long, breathless moment, the two of you just stood there, the noise of the party fading into the background. Your mind was still processing everything, but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you feel—just for a second—like maybe you could trust this.

You shook your head, "I’m not… I’m not good at this," you admitted, your voice uncertain. "At understanding what people mean, or knowing if they’re being serious or not. I don’t know how to read you."

Rafe’s eyes softened even more at your confession, and he took a deep breath, like he was trying to figure out how to make you believe him. "I get that," he said quietly. "And I’m not always great at this either. But I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about this."

You wanted to believe him. More than anything, you wanted to believe him. But there was still that tiny voice of doubt in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the times you’d been wrong before, of all the times you’d trusted someone only to be let down.

You hesitated, your throat tight. "I don’t know if I can."

He didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you. Instead, he just nodded slowly.

"That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’ll be here when you’re ready."

And with that, he stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed. He didn’t try to force anything, didn’t press for more. Instead, he just gave you a small, almost hopeful smile and turned, disappearing back into the crowd.

And as you stood there, your heart still pummeling into your ribs, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong about him after all.

[latetaektalk]

love to hate you | jjk [vii]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 17.966

— warnings: swearing/cursing, alcohol consumption, jealousy, no communication skills whatsoever

— playlist: to be added

— a/n: after almost two years of no update its done. it would be a lie to say that i was always one hundred percent sure this was gonna see the light of day but its finally here, and im so so so happy to just put it out there and give it to you guys. @koocycle has listened to me bitch abt this one so much so thanks to her, also for kinda inspiring me to get back into tumblr.com and writing !! enjoy!! and once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!

“You’re really showing your wealth, you know?” you said as Jungkook slid into the driver’s seat, shutting out the cold air. He raised a brow, handing you the bag for you to hold onto, shivering slightly from the cold, his neck exposed to the harsh wind.

“How so?”

The engine sputtered to life as he slotted in the keys, his phone mounted to the dashboard, showing him the way. You pulled out the one-hundred-dollar expensive wine bottle from the bag, scrutinising it. Some of the glitter from the red ribbon the salesman had wrapped around it in an effort to be more festive and fitting today’s occasion peeled off. 

“This is too much.”

“Yeah, I know, the bow’s tacky but I couldn’t stop Kangjoon from-”

“No, I mean the hundred bucks you dropped on it. It shows your wealth,” you repeated, scrunching your nose. “Also, didn’t know you were on a first name basis with the salesman.”

You let the bottle slip back into its bag, scared Jungkook was going to make a sharp stop and cause you to drop and waste the bottle. God knows you didn’t have one hundred bucks casually lying around like him—even though you were sure Jungkook wouldn’t make you replace it and would definitely just buy it again himself.

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t like Kangjoon? He’s a great man, very competent.” And just as you were about to tell him that Kangjoon scammed him, Jungkook continued, “Also isn’t that the whole reason why you’re dating me? My wealth?” 

He said it with a grin, turning to you as he let a family of four pass, receiving a thankful hand raise from both of the parents as they ushered their young children across the street. And even though he meant it purely as a joke, his smile and tone indicating as much, his words made you scrunch your face like you’d been stung by a bee. 

“It’s so unnecessary. We wouldn’t know the difference between this and supermarket wine, and Chae literally said not to bring anything. She’s gonna scold you, you know?”

If it had gone your way, you’d have gotten the second cheapest bottle of semi-fancy alcohol they had and called it a day but Jungkook swiped his card before you could intervene, ever so easily charmed. Well, actually if it had gone your way at all, you wouldn’t have brought anything to begin with. Chaeyoung hated it if her guests brought anything anyway.

“Gotta impress your friends, don’t I? Can’t have them not like me,” he argued, and you rolled your eyes.

“First of all, no, you don’t-”

“You don’t want your friends to like your boyfriend?” Jungkook gasped, staring at you with his mouth agape and eyes wide as you came to a stop in front of a red light. You shook your head.

“No, can I speak?” you sighed, frowning as Jungkook laughed, clearly getting his kick out of annoying you. “My friends already like you, and you know that. We’re driving to Ji’s and Chae’s place now for a Christmas party. One that you were explicitly invited to. So I don’t believe you for a second when you say that you got this wine to impress them. Also, Chae said not to bring anything. You just like spending money.”

Jungkook pursed his lips, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Do I now?”

“Am I not exhibit A?”

He gave you a look as if to say touché.

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” he admitted. “But just so you know, I gladly spent my money on that wine if it means I’ll impress your friends and make them like me more. And I’m even more than happy to spend it on you, cabbage.”

He looked at you by the end of his words, flashing you a grin. A grin that made him look so pretty and adorable, that would have made your knees buckle if you hadn’t been sitting, that wrapped your heart into his grip even tighter. A grin that made you wonder if a parachute would be enough to stop your fall for him, or if you were simply doomed for this fate, for the bone crushing landing.

You turned your head to the window, glad to see you had made it to Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s place.

“I think you’re just happy to have an excuse to spend your money,” you mumble, pretending to busy yourself with the straps of the bag.

“Sure—” There was a shrug, and you should have prepared yourself for the worst, should know better by now that Jungkook couldn’t just agree with you and leave you in peace. “—or you’re just the love of my life, cabbage, and what’s mine is yours.”

The words remained casual on Jungkook’s tongue, easy as ever. And they remained difficult and frown-inducing for you. 

“You’re-!”

A laugh bubbled up from Jungkook’s upon your silence, and though you were trying your deepest and most desperate to resist, your heart skipped a beat. It was fatal, cardiologists would say. How deeply you’d fallen, it was fatal. Your heart couldn’t be saved.

And as if he hadn’t said the most impossible thing ever, Jungkook pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine, a grin plastered on his lips.

“Alright, let’s-”

You yanked the door open, stepping (of course) in a puddle. With a groan and wince, you slammed the door shut. Your breath came out white and cloudy, December coming into its full swing. The weather had been harsher than ever—wind dragging on your skin until it was painful and tense, air cold enough to dry out your throat and mouth, every window coloured a milky white, and clouds hanging far and wide in the sky for every hour of the day. The urge to crawl back into the oh so warm car was strong. The urge to run away from Jungkook however was just that much stronger. 

The bottle bumped your hip bone as you rushed towards Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s apartment building. You didn’t turn around as Jungkook called after you to wait with a laugh, fumbling to unhook his phone from the dashboard. 

You reached the glass front door rather quickly, a handprint smudged across it that hadn’t been there last time. You cringed, but couldn’t think about it too much, worrying a lot more about the diminishing distance between Jungkook and you as you waited for one of your friends to open the stupid door for you. You knew for a fact they were already there, spotting Hoseok’s car parked on the side of the street. If he was there, Jimin was too, always catching a ride with him.

“Do you really think you can outrun me?” Jungkook called out, just a dozen steps behind you. 

You pulled on the front door as if it made a difference, pressing the bell repeatedly. He slowed his walk, burying his hands into his pockets. All so very smug. Your features twisted into a frown. 

“You’re so slow. You always run from me as if I won’t catch up with you in two-”

For once fate seemed to be on your side, the buzzer cutting through the air. The door almost hit you in the face when you yanked it open. You slammed it back shut again, just right in front of Jungkook’s nose. He pulled on the handle. The lock had clicked in. You watched his features twist as he realised he was too slow. His lips pressed together, curling inwards as he watched the biggest and proudest grin spread on yours.

“What were you saying? About me being too slow?” you said. A smile tucked on the corners of his mouth as he shook his head at you.

“Open up.”

He knocked on the glass, right in front of your nose.

“What? I can’t hear you.”

You put your hand to your ear, tilting your head.

“Just open up.”

“You gotta speak louder. I really can’t hear you with this door between-”

“Cabbage, you better open the door for me now, or I’m gonna make you regret it,” Jungkook said, narrowing his eyes, tongue poking in his cheek. And even though you were certain it was an empty threat—how was he going to make you regret it?—, you contemplated for just a second if maybe you should listen and open the door. 

“I’m gonna count to three.”

You scoffed. Were you a kid? And even more so, what was Jungkook going to do to you? Were you going to cave because of an empty threat? 

“Please do,” you smiled, eliciting one from Jungkook himself.

“Three.”

He raised a brow.

“Two.”

You folded your arms in front of your chest.

“One.”

A moment passed. 

Nothing happened.

“Alright, fine,” Jungkook said before dramatically ringing the bell. And even though you rolled your eyes, you did inch back. He was going to chase you, that one was for sure. 

The moment the buzzer rang, you took off. Jungkook let out a laugh.

“Now, you run?” he taunted, pulling the door open, his steps echoing through the hallway. You took two stairs at a time, yelping when you realised that Jungkook was hot on your tail. Maybe you should have run earlier. Or maybe you should have opened the door for him. But who were you, letting a guy threaten you? No less Jungkook of all people, that idiot.

You made it up the flight of stairs faster than you ever had, your lungs lit on fire. The front door already stood ajar for you. You could distantly hear Chaeyoung call out for Jisoo- A hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you back. Jungkook stood right in front of you, chest bumping into you, the biggest grin on his lips.

Shit.

“Gotcha.”

Your face soured.

“Oh, h-how are you?” you coughed with a smile, and he chuckled, never taking his eyes off of you even as he grabbed the bag from your hands and placed it down. You had completely forgotten about it. “Don’t look at me like this. T-that’s not fun.”

“Neither was having the door slammed in my face.” 

You backed into the wall. Turns out being tough was a lot more difficult when there wasn’t a door to shield you and Jungkook was actually in front of you, just centimetres from your face and staring at you like you were his favourite thing in this entire world. His hand sneaked around your waist, slipping underneath your sweater, fingers grazing the small of your back. His touch was light and delicate, teasing in all the right ways. It was cold too, making you arch and almost wince. And it was all too much—a tingle spreading across your back, rushing straight to your heart.

“Any last words before I make you regret it?” Jungkook hummed, and you should snort and laugh because he should sound ridiculous. But somehow, his words made you tense, the mere thought making your head spin in rounds and rounds. You bit on your tongue, silencing any sound that might just want to crawl up your throat.

You shouldn’t let Jungkook be this close to you. You needed distance for your sanity. But you couldn’t bring it over your heart to push him away. You didn’t have it in you. Not when there was very much a part of you that wanted to find out what Jungkook exactly meant.

He drank you up with his eyes, gaze dark and full of something hazy. Full of something you couldn’t pinpoint. But you loved it, you did. Maybe a little too much even. You loved the way it made your heart thump and rumble in your chest, made you forget that this was too much and far and dangerous, that Jungkook and you should keep your distance because in just a few weeks all of this would be over and you’d go your merry ways. But right now, with your back against the wall and Jungkook caging you in, thrill and excitement rushing through every single one of your cells, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t think you ever could.

“Got nothing to say now, cabbage?”

And when you still wouldn’t respond, he smiled. His face inched closer to yours, his nose brushing yours. Your fingers itched to hold onto something, onto him, curling and uncurling in the air. Because you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. But you did, hands gripping his sweater as if you were lost in the sea and he was all you had to cling to. 

You closed your eyes, anticipating and waiting for Jungkook to kiss you, your breath stuck in your chest. Any time now. It was going to happen-

“Oh my God, please don’t do this in my hallway.”

You whipped your head around, your heart dropping to the floor. Jisoo stood in the doorway, face twisted in utter disgust.

“Please, anywhere but my fucking hallway. That's all I’m gonna be able to think about. Seeing the two of you eating each other’s faces.”

There was even clearer disgust in her voice.

Oh God.

“Hello, Ji,” Jungkook smiled, and you expected him to back away from you, but he gave you no distance. He wasn’t even the slightest embarrassed, if anything you sensed the slightest annoyance swinging with his words.

“Please step away from her, Kook,” Jisoo asked, gesturing for him to move backwards. But he wasn’t all too eager to follow, staying cemented right in front of you, hands still around your waist. He paused to think.

“I’ve got a really expensive bottle of wine.” He pointed to the bag. “I’ll give it to you in exchange for five more minutes.”

“Oh, you brought something? Chae’s gonna kill you,” Jisoo laughed before changing her tune, tilting her head to the side. “But how expensive are we talking?”

“Like one hundred bucks.”

You stared holes into Jungkook, mouth agape. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Were you not right here too? Did you become air? It was like you were cattle being sold off. 

“Oh,” Jisoo gasped before shrugging. “Okay, deal-”

“Yeah, no way,” you laughed before doing what you should have done earlier—you pushed Jungkook away, making him tumble backwards a little. You stepped around him. 

“But, Y/N, it’s one hundred-”

“Ji!” you gasped, making her laugh and reach out for you. She wrapped her arms around your neck, giggling as she did. 

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I would never,” she told you, and you raised a brow at her. “Right, Kook?”

“Yeah, we were just kidding.”

“I don’t- hey! I can see you two exchanging looks!” you gasped, neither of the two even trying to be subtle. “Do you think I’m blind?”

“Ha, funny, I think-” Jisoo cleared her throat. “—I think Chae is calling for me? Oh my God, do you hear that? Yes, I’m on my way, Chae!”

And as if she hadn’t just stabbed you in the back, she slipped inside. But not without grabbing the bag and thanking Jungkook for it. You rolled your eyes, turning to head inside when he cleared his throat.

Jungkook was staring at you with his brows raised, clearly expecting… something. 

“What?” you barked. He gave you a smile before stretching out his hand. You groaned. “Seriously? We have to get inside-”

But he waved his hand around, not budging. Rolling your eyes and with a long exhale, you took his hand into yours. 

“You’re a child-”

Jungkook pulled you towards him, shutting you up with a kiss. One hand cupped your cheek and the other rested on the small of your back, pushing you into him. The kiss was tender and soft, gentle and light. And still, it was enough to have your heart thumping louder and harder in your chest than ever before. You asked yourself if Jungkook could feel it at all. That heart of yours that was oh so tight in his grip. That heart of yours that was bleeding in your chest. That heart of yours already ached at the thought of this all ending in just a few weeks. 

It was a lovely kiss, a devastatingly lovely kiss.

And when Jungkook pulled away, his eyes so full and beautiful, you felt gutted and empty. Because this meant nothing to him. This meant nothing at all. You looked away. Jungkook laughed, pulling you flush to his side, all too unaware.

“Let’s go?”

You nodded slightly. 

Jimin was first to greet you, leaping up from the couch and pulling you into a hug. “You made it!”

“Took you long enough,” Taehyung mumbled, sipping on his beer, earning himself a look from Namjoon that he simply ignored. “We could hear you two yelling around in the hallway.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Tae,” Jungkook laughed, and the older one frowned at him. 

“It’s December 10th.”

“In other words, it’s almost-”

“No, it’s not-”

Hoseok greeted you with a hug, ignoring Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s bickering because otherwise he would never get to say hello to you. “Looking good.”

“Thanks.” You stared at his sweater. “That’s one really ugly Christmas sweater.”

He laughed, thanking you. Seokjin and Namjoon were next to give you a quick hug, followed by Jennie and Yoongi, exchanging a few words with each of them. Taehyung and you stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of you saying anything. And though he tried to hide it, a smile formed on his lips. A smile you could only return. You blamed it on the holidays. They made you especially sappy and sentimental.

You were first to reach out. Taehyung reciprocated the hug. It was a little awkward and short and one-armed. It was more than anyone could ask of you. Jungkook nodded in both amazement and approval when you caught his eyes for a split second, and you just scrunched your nose at him.

“So how-”

You tuned out Seokjin, taking a minute to admire the decoration around you instead. Chaeyoung (because Jisoo wasn’t particularly all too fond of Christmas, but did put up with all of it because Chaeyoung very much was) always outdid herself every holiday season: red little fuzzy stockings hanging off shelves and cupboard knobs, cinnamon-scented candles lit up all throughout the place, miniature Santa and reindeer figurines sitting on every surface alongside bowls of chocolates and peppermints with fake snow underneath. There was even a small fake Christmas tree crammed into the corner of their living room with colourful baubles (some of which Jimin had gifted and had pictures of you all printed on them) and equally colourful fairy lights hanging on it. And of course, Michael Bublé was on heavy rotation, his voice carried throughout the home. 

“Where’s Chae?” you asked Jisoo when she came up next to you, both of you standing in front of the Christmas tree. 

“Oh, you know-”

“Ah, great, you guys finally made it as well,” Chaeyoung exhaled, coming out from the kitchen, and seeing Jungkook and you among the other guests. There was a slight edge accompanying her words, and you doubted for no second that her nerves were running high from having to host tonight and needing all of this to turn out perfect. (Even if she chose this fate upon herself.) Her updo was falling apart, strands sticking out in the wrong places. Still, she looked pretty. Especially with her reindeer apron tied around her waist. She had had it since middle school, and seeing it brought back all kinds of memories. You couldn’t help but grin, Jisoo and you exchanging looks. And when your gaze met Chaeoyung’s, she knew. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. 

“Yeah, I know,” she mumbled, speaking to you too only and confusing the others in the process. Jisoo and you snickered. 

“Anyway—” Chaeyoyung waved her hand around, “—I’ve got some unfortunate news. Dinner isn’t ready. I’ll need at least another thirty minutes. Hope you guys didn’t come too hungry.”

“Do you need help with anything?” Jungkook asked, already getting up from the couch. Yoongi raised his hand, silently extending the offer as well. Jennie nodded, clearly willing to get her hands dirty too.

“Yeah, anything we can do to help you?” Taehyung asked, making an effort to get up too, but Chaeyoung was quick to shake her head.

“No, I don’t need help,” she mumbled, clearing her throat. “I just wanted to inform you guys. You all would help if you guys just busied yourself and didn’t come into the kitchen.”

And before anyone could insist on their help, Chaeyoung disappeared back inside the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t we-?”

“If you wanna stay on her good side, don’t take a single step into the kitchen. Don’t even breathe in that direction, or think about helping her,” Jisoo explained, and Jungkook looked at you as if to ask if this was exaggerated at all.

“Yeah, Chae’s… very peculiar with that kind of stuff.”

“But there are so many of us. Is she really gonna do all of it on her own?” Jennie asked, but Hoseok waved her off. 

“Trust me, she is and she will. Chae gets super stressed, but she also loves to host. If you don’t let her, she’ll be in a bad mood for ages. It’s better to just let her do her own thing.”

“And if it actually gets too much, she’ll come out and ask for help at one point. Trust me,” Jimin added.

“You think? I’m not so sure about that one,” Jisoo snorted and moved over to grab a handful of chocolates. Almost instinctively, she placed a hand on Jennie’s shoulder, and for a moment, you wondered if Jungkook and you ever looked this natural and comfortable with each other. If you looked as much as a couple as Jisoo and Jennie did. “When has she ever asked for help?”

“There’s no way she can do all of this on her own,” Taehyung said, frowning.

“You don’t know Chae.”

“Maybe. But it seems humanly impossible to pull off this entire thing without asking for at least some help.”

Jisoo raised her brow at Taehyung, pausing a moment. “Oh, do you wanna bet?” Her mouth pulled into a grin at the mere prospect of making some easy money. “Ten bucks?”

Hoseok and you exchanged glances over their heads. This was very much typical of Jisoo. 

“Don’t bet with her, Tae. She’s a scammer,” Jimin said, pushing Jisoo’s hand away as she waited for him to shake it.

“I won’t,” Taehyung laughed, taking a sip from his beer. “You know I don’t do-”

The ear-shattering sound of a pan clashing with the kitchen tiles emerged from the kitchen, followed up with a few loud curses and an “It’s fine!”. You cringed when something else you couldn’t identify fell to the floor a second later, eliciting even more curses. Almost instinctively, you turned to Jisoo, nudging her. Because as much as she was right that it was a bad idea to go help Chaeyoung, it would actually be worse not to go in right now when everything seemed to go off the rails.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. My cue to jump in,” she grumbled, begrudgingly making her way to the kitchen, knowing already she would have to endure Chaeyoung’s snappy attitude. She squeezed Jennie’s hand in goodbye. 

“See, she’s getting help,” Taehyung said to no one in particular and righteously took a sip from his beer. Jungkook applauded him sarcastically, and you were about to say something when-

“Oh, this is cute!” Seokjin gasped, coming up to you. You followed his gaze to the bauble he was admiring. It had an old picture of you and your friends on it, faces curving around the porcelain. “How old are you guys there?”

You pursed your lips. “That’s probably senior year? So like seventeen maybe? Eighteen?”

“What are you guys doing- oh my God, you guys look so young.” Namjoon hooked an arm around Seokijn’s shoulder, marvelling at your younger selves. “Look at that one!”

He pointed out one with just Jisoo, Chaeyoung and you on it. It was one of the first pictures you three had taken together. All three of you still stuck in middle school. You couldn’t decide whether to be embarrassed or nostalgic.

“Is that Ji? Her hair, oh my God!” Seokjin laughed, pointing out the blunt bob Jisoo used to rock.

“Don’t be mean!” And yet, Namjoon laughed too.

“You’re lucky Ji can’t hear you right now because she’d kill you,” you said. “But actually, you should see some of Seok’s old pictures. He looks so different-”

A hand snaked around your waist. You tensed. But you relaxed a second later when you realised who it was. You peeked over your shoulder just to check and smiled when you turned out to be right. He placed his chin on your shoulder.

“Hello,” Jungkook whispered, and you squirmed, his breath tickling your ear. He was so close to you, too close. You could practically feel his heart beating behind yours.

“Hey,” you returned, a bit breathless and pitchy. You cleared your throat.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Oh, uh, nothing really,” you mumbled, waving your hand around.

Jungkook frowned, but didn’t ask any further. “Okay, well, I wanted to get you something to drink. You think I can go into the kitchen without getting murdered?”

“Yeah, you’re fine. Ji’s there too,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to meet his gaze. He was already looking at you, eyes big and so full and a smile on his lips.

“Okay, then do you want anything in particular?”

You shook your head. “Uh, no, whatever is fine.”

“Whatever it is.”

But rather than just leave to get you said drink, Jungkook lingered, not moving away from you just yet. You raised a brow at him, making him smile. As if he could read your mind, he loosened his grip around your waist, but not before pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Getting you that drink,” he smiled, backing away. 

You touched a hand to where he had kissed you, gripping, feeling hot all of a sudden. It was stupid, you were stupid. 

“Jesus.”

And albeit, it was quiet and muttered under his breath, you heard it very clearly. You looked at Seokjin, eyes big as he stared back at you with a grin on his lips. There was a fondness in his eyes, a look you always saw on Jimin’s face. Namjoon wore it too.

“What?” you asked when the expression wouldn’t disappear.

“It’s just-” 

He sighed and shook his head.

“What?” you repeated, but Seokjin wouldn’t continue.

“You guys are just cute,” Namjoon supplied.

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, shaking your head.

“You guys are exactly like Jin and Mina used to be,” Yoongi said, coming up next to you, having witnessed the entire exchange from his spot on the couch.

“What?” you laughed, shaking your head over and over again. “I have no idea what-”

“Don’t deny it, Y/N,” Namjoon laughed and looked at you.

“It’s gross really,” Yoongi scoffed, taking a sip from his beer. “How smitten he is for you. How happy and—” He shuddered for the drama of it all but wore a smile on his lips. “—stupidly in love you two are.”

Wait, what?

“It’s cute,” Seokjin corrected, and you stared at him with stunned silence. 

“Is it though?”

“Don’t be like that, Yoongs. When have you ever seen Kook this happy before?” 

The question, though not directed at you at all, made you freeze. And when you looked at Yoongi and he made no effort to disagree, you froze.

“You make him really happy,” Namjoon said with a smile and tilted his head when you didn’t speak or react at all, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. “You know that, right?”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, crashing down on you and compressing your lungs. Because, no, you didn’t. You didn’t think about it ever, and why would you? It never seemed possible to you because it simply wasn’t possible you made Jungkook happy. You didn’t have that power over him.

Was this really how you looked like to others—two people who were in love and happy? It sounded ridiculous to you, impossible. So much so, you just had to shake your head and wave your hand around as if the words loomed in front of you and had to be physically dismissed. Your heart banged in your ribcage, loud and far too heavy.

“You guys are exaggerating!” you chuckled, voice wavering the slightest bit. “This has nothing to do with me- Finals are over and it’s Christmas, so obviously-”

A single look from them was all it took to silence you. They didn’t have to say a word for you to know what they were collectively thinking.

“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” Seokjin said.

“For god’s sake, just look at that boy,” Yoongi laughed, pointing behind you, and your gaze followed his hand. Right then Jungkook came back with two drinks, one for you and one for him. 

He seemed surprised, stilling as he saw that you were all looking at him. But he recovered, mouth pulling into a big smile. Your eyes met his. You would have missed it if you hadn’t looked so close and paid attention to every little thing he did. But you saw it, the tiny smile he offered you, and only you. It was like a little secret. Just for you and him to know and share and see. 

Did you really make him happy?

“Why are you guys staring at me like that?” Jungkook laughed, coming to a stop in front of you and handing you your drink. You took it passively, and purely from the warmth, you knew it was your favourite, green tea. “Are you guys talking shit about me?”

“Oh, yeah, you know just the usual shit talking we do about you,” Namjoon snorted.

“Mhm, the usual stuff. How you always-”

Seokjin’s voice faded away when Jungkook moved closer to you, his arm already lifting to sneak around your middle. But you couldn’t do this. Not now.

“Sorry, I gotta pee,” you mumbled, wringing out of Jungkook’s grasp, his fingers just barely brushing your skin. You didn’t know who you interrupted, but you offered them all an apologetic look but you never quite looked at Jungkook. Your exit seemed natural enough though, you thought. No one made an effort to stop you.

Some of your drink spilt over when you put it down on the coffee table too quickly, and you even almost bumped into Hoseok, but rather than apologise properly and clean up your mess, you hurried into the bathroom. 

The moment the lock clicked shut behind you, you let yourself crumble, knees giving in. If only just a little. 

Oh God.

It wasn’t very environmentally friendly, not very Save the Turtles! kind of behaviour of you at all as you just let the water run and run into the sink and down the drain. You didn’t even wash your hands or face, just needing something to fill the silence as you sat on the edge of the bathtub and let yourself calm down.

You felt ridiculous. You truly did. Insane and crazy even. The behaviour you were exhibiting was probably therapist worthy. The panic. For what? And why? It was behaviour you never imagined yourself exhibiting. No less because of Jeon Jungkook. But here you were, playing his pretend girlfriend for money so he could win a bet. And you got all of your friends involved even! You should have really thought this through-

“Cabbage?”

And somehow, both dread and warmth crept up with his voice. You closed your eyes, thinking for a second to shut off the tap. It seemed just a little too exhausting to do that.

“Yeah?” 

“Are you good?”

“Yeah.”

It was quiet for a few seconds.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m peeing, Jeon.”

A lie. He knew. You knew.

“Fine, come in.”

When you wouldn’t move, Jungkook gave the door handle a try, surprised to see you hadn’t locked it. You had forgotten, and so he did it for you instead. The moment he saw you sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the tap carelessly running, he stopped, features folding into something nice, pleasant, empathetic.

“Stop,” you groaned, rolling your eyes and turning away from him, shutting off the tap as if that minimised how sad you had to look right now.

Jungkook chuckled, burying his hands into his pants, carefully walking towards you. He sat down next to you, knee pressed against yours. Neither of you pulled away. There was a part of you that should tell him to give you space, but you couldn’t. If anything, you turned a little to him.

“How are you always running off into the bathroom when you feel bad? It’s so obvious,” he mumbled, pinching your nose.

“Ow, stop!” you hissed, swatting his hand aside. 

He gave you a look, shaking his head, and you pouted like a child would. It made him chuckle, and you tensed when Jungkook put his head on yours, too tall to lean against your shoulder comfortably, his eyes falling shut. 

“What did they say?” Jungkook asked, breaking the silence after a while.

“What?”

“Joon and the others. What did they say to make you run off like that?”

You pressed your lips together, disliking that you were so easy to read.

“Who sent you?” you snorted, wanting to figure out which of your friends just earned themselves a plus point.

“No one.”

“What?” you blinked, and looked at him, but he kept his eyes closed. “So you-”

“No one sent me. I just… wanted to make sure you were fine myself.”

And hearing that was somehow utterly awful. Because it meant Jungkook cared. At least to some degree, at least enough to want to check on you. It meant that he was able to read you so easily, that he really knew you.

“Now, what did they say? You can tell me. I’ll talk to them for you. Or I won’t if you don’t want me-”

You shook your head, sighing. “Nothing. They said nothing.”

It was true. Because none of what Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi said was worth running off. It wasn’t insulting, or hurtful. 

“Are you sure? Seriously, you can just tell me. I’d talk to-”

“I’m serious,” you interrupted, not even wanting to hear how far Jungkook would go for you. “They said nothing. I just had to pee.” You shrugged. “And I just needed a moment to breathe. It’s nothing. I promise.”

Jungkook sat up, glancing at you with his mouth pursed and eyes narrowed. “So just a moment to breathe?”

Your hand almost came up to cup his cheek, the urge to brush over the little scar on his cheekbone tempting you. It was difficult to resist when he was looking at you like that. There was this need, to plant your lips against his. Kiss him and assure him. But you didn’t let yourself. You turned your head to the other side, curling your hand around the cool porcelain of the bathtub until the skin stretched thin over your knuckles and almost hurt. Just anything but Jungkook and his stupidly pretty face.

“Just a moment to breathe,” you mumbled. 

Jungkook hummed, straightening up. He let his head hang for a few seconds before lifting it up again and turning to you.

“Is it fine if I stay with you then?”

It was a delicate question, an honest question, a devastating heartbreaking question. Because of course, he could. Of course! He could do anything, as long as he remained by your side. And that realisation, albeit not entirely new to you (you were aware of it to some degree all along), was mortifying. 

You closed your eyes, a knot forming in your throat. There was nothing for you to say, a silence stretching between you. A silence Jungkook took as a “yes”, and when his hand gripped yours, it was sealed for you. You didn’t pull away, put your head on his shoulder. What would be the use of resisting? What good would it do? What would it change? Nothing.

So you enjoyed it instead, the moment between him and you. For as long as you could. For now.

“We should probably get back out,” you mumbled when you heard the laughter get louder in the living room. 

“Probably.”

And yet, neither of you moved. A few more moments passed. It was the next bound of laughter that ripped you out.

“We should-”

“I think it’s time-”

You both stopped, nodding, knowing. Jungkook was first to get up, groaning like an old man before turning to you and offering you his hand. With one loud sigh, you took it, allowing him to pull you up. You shared a look and a smile.

It felt like you were walking into another world when you stepped outside, still holding hands. Before it was just Jungkook and you. Now it was everyone else too. And almost as if you had said that exact thought out loud, everyone looked at you as you walked back in. You stopped, the same way Jungkook had when he had returned and found you all staring at him. You frowned, the grin spreading on Jimin’s and Jisoo’s (When had she made it back?) faces worrying you. Jungkook seemed as clueless as you.

“What?”

No one said anything for a second. 

“Can I?” Jisoo asked, pleading with everyone else, and you narrowed your eyes. She was giddy, and her being giddy was never a good sign, especially for you. Most times it meant you’d be miserable.

“Do the honours,” Jimin said, gesturing for her to ahead.

Jisoo leaned back, grinning from ear to ear. She seemed to stretch the moment thin, take her sweet time to reveal to you what exactly entertained her so much. Jennie shook her head next to her, but she wore a smile on her lips, amused.

You kept close to Jungkook, almost instinctively. As if he could protect you. His hand brushed the small of your back, soothing. Taehyung’s irritating snicker grabbed your attention for a second, but before you could frown at him for it, Jisoo spoke,

“Look up.”

Fuck. You should have figured.

“Ah,” Jungkook laughed upon seeing the mistletoe above your heads. 

“You guys are funny,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “And very cute for thinking that we are gonna do-”

“You have to!” Jimin interjected, leaning forward and pointing at the two of you. “It’s the law. The rules of the game.”

You frowned, and the lines deepened even more when you saw everyone from Namjoon, Seokjin and Jennie to Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi and Jisoo nodding along. Of course, they found pleasure in your misery. 

“It’s bad luck if you don’t,” Hoseok reminded you of the stupid rules, and you could have thrown something at him. How was no one on your side?

“That’s… made up.”

“Well, if you wanna risk the bad luck, be my guest,” Hoseok chuckled, shrugging, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Oh, please, no one believes that!” 

But you were met with no ounce of support from anyone. You turned to Jungkook, expecting that he was equally as ticked off as you. But he seemed perfectly fine, his features not even slightly twisted into anything resembling irritation. If anything, he was smiling a little when you met his eyes. 

“I don’t know, I’m never one to tempt fate,” he said, and you couldn’t quite decide how to react. Jungkook reached for your hand again, playing with your fingers. “Why risk the bad luck? Also, it’s not like we have never kissed in front of them.” He grinned. “Remember how you jumped me and-”

“Oh my God, I didn’t jump you!” Your voice leapt up a few pitches too high and remained there when your friends began to laugh.

“Now that’s a lie. You practically threw yourself at-”

“Jeon!”

Jungkook cackled, and you could have strangled him right then and there. Your friends laughed too, and you would have snapped at them if your cheeks didn’t warm to an uncomfortable degree. To the point the blood boiled in your ears, so much so you didn’t even hear Namjoon’s holler about how it was just a kiss!

It wasn’t completely lost on you that it was stupid to be embarrassed, considering how boldly you had claimed Jungkook as yours in front of a room of strangers just a few weeks ago. Especially considering that all of your friends had a slight alcohol level going on anyway already and were most definitely moving on the second the kiss happened. But it was different. At the Halloween party, you were positively buzzed, your vision blurry and fuzzy. But more importantly, you were jealous to the point of turning green. It seemed so much more intimate to kiss Jungkook in front of everyone now. And so very vulnerable because you wanted to so much. Kiss him. You always did these days, yearned to. That desire scared you, was mortifying in more ways than you could describe, particularly in this moment because what if they could all sense it? What if Jungkook realised it all of a sudden? That you really wanted this? That your entire heart ached for him? 

And as if you had the fear written all over your face, Jungkook reached for you, tugging on your elbow and turning you back to him. He gave you a smile, his head tilted to the side. A few strands slipped out of his perfectly messy hair, and a soft shadow covered half his face. Right then, he seemed all so delicate to you, so good, so precious. It was instant, your heartbeat dwindled into something calmer and wilder at the same time. Somehow, it seemed almost easy and much more difficult to kiss him and pretend it didn’t dig daggers into your heart. None of it made sense, the effect he had on you, but you supposed a lot of things hadn’t made sense in your life since Jungkook’s first appearance.

“It’s just a kiss, cabbage,” he mumbled, shrugging. 

It was. It was just a kiss, to your friends, to him. It was nothing, a small price you had to pay to entertain your friends. It was fun and simple. It was just unfortunate that it was so much more to you. 

You held your breath when Jungkook placed a hand on your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, gentle and soothing. He was doing everything right, and yet, you could have thrown up right then and there. Jimin gasped and squeaked as Jungkook inched closer to you, Jisoo grasping onto his arm because oh my God, they were going to kiss! All while you were desperately, almost frantically, fisting Jungkook’s shirt, as if you would float away otherwise and it was the only thing keeping you on the ground.

And Jungkook kissed you all too delicately.

To the point, you could have believed him. That you meant something to him, that he might just be in love with you. It was horrible, to be kissed like that. You weren’t sure if this was how it felt like, to be in love and to be loved. You hoped it wasn’t.

You pulled him closer to you, deepened the kiss, allowed him in. For just a while, you told yourself. Just until you found the strength in you to resist him, until you deemed your own well-being more important than these fleeting highs with Jungkook.

“Alright, dinner’s- oh.” 

Chaeyoung stopped right before she could bump into you, and you quickly pulled away. But Jungkook kept holding you, not letting go of you. Chaeyoung placed her hands on her hips and shot Jimin and Jisoo a long look.

“Ah, who of you idiots did this?” 

“Why do you assume it was-”

“So it was you,” Chaeyoung said, interrupting Jimin and shaking her head. “Take it off. Dinner’s ready.”

Jisoo slapped his shoulder, laughing, clearly enjoying seeing him getting reprimanded by Chaeyoung. Jimin rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how Chaeyoung was no fun but he followed her orders, getting up and reaching for the bundle above your heads. You backed away-actually you jumped. It made Jimin pause and narrow his eyes, his mouth lifting into a smile when he saw the opportunity.

“Oh, what if I hold it over you-”

“No, don’t even!” you hissed, pushing Jimin away from you and seeking refuge behind Chaeyoung. 

“Oh, it’s just one more kiss, Y/N!” Jimin taunted, following you. You shrieked, moving further from him, irritated by the constant laughter spilling from his throat. He was enjoying this too much. Too much!

“Fuck off!”

“Don’t be like-”

“I’m serious, stop!”

“It’s fun-”

“Okay, no, enough,” Jungkook said, stepping in and swiftly taking the mistletoe from Jimin. He slapped him with it lightly, eliciting a gasp from Jimin. “No more chasing my girlfriend with mistletoe, okay? Or you can do your physics assignments on your own.” 

Rubbing his cheek, almost convinced he was allergic to mistletoe now, Jimin gasped as if Jungkook had just declared an end to their friendship. “Kook! How could you say that?”

“Stop chasing my girlfriend then.”

“Oh my God, fine, I won’t,” Jimin groaned, pouting. “You’re so lame.”

When he reached for the mistletoe, Jungkook hesitated, looking over to you and even though you preferred him not to hold it in his hands again, you knew Jimin would get even more offended if Jungkook withheld the bundle from him. So you gave him a nod. 

“Okay, alright, dinner’s getting cold,” Chaeyoung said, clapping her hands together when Jimin was back in possession of his mistletoe. “So how about we take this party into the kitchen, yeah?”

Like you had said he would, Jungkook got an earful from Chaeyoung when she noticed the expensive bottle of wine suddenly appear on the dinner table because how dare you bring something when I clearly said not to? And on top of that such an expensive bottle too. Do you shit money? Somebody needs to teach you how to manage your finances. Rather than come to his help, you left Jungkook to fend for himself which earned you puppy eyes from him, but hadn’t you told him better? Surprisingly however he managed to convince her to open the bottle anyway. You were sure she’d get him to return it, or at least take it home again. Jungkook could be very compelling. But you knew that already. 

“If the teaching thing doesn’t work out—” Namjoon had his mouth stuffed as he spoke, and you caught Yoongi cringing next to him. “—I think you should become a cook, Chae.”

She smiled sheepishly, waving him off. “Oh, please. My mom’s cooking is so much better.”

“I don’t know if I believe you,” he laughed. “This is seriously so good.”

Hoseok shoved a big bite into his mouth, a drop of sauce splashing onto the table. Chaeyoung smiled and wiped it off for him. He thanked her.

“It’s the best food on Earth. I’d die for it,” Jimin sighed, a little too loud and dramatic, his mouth full with food, giving you all a glimpse into what his stomach must look like. His cheeks were tinted a slight pink, the red wine slowly flushing him through. “Like that one Gordon Ramsey meme? Where you know—” He sat up, changing his voice in a failed attempt to mimic the British celebrity chef. “—he’s like ‘Finally some good fucking food.’ or whatever. That’s how I always feel when I eat Chae.”

For a second, there was silence. Jungkook and you looked at each other with big eyes, a hint of a smile on your lips because it was obvious that Jimin hadn’t realised what he had said, blabbering on and on without a second thought.

“Maybe you should calm it on the alcohol,” Seokjin mumbled, pushing Jimin’s glass away from him. But it had the opposite effect, making him reach for it instead and down the entire contents of his glass in one quick go.

“Never!”

“You mean… her food. When you eat her food, you could cry, right?” Taehyung clarified, and Jimin looked at him with big eyes.

“Oh, yes of course! What else would I mean?” he laughed, loud and boisterous. “Chae’s all yours, Seok. Don’t worry. I’m not your competition.” 

Chaeyoung almost choked on the wine, and Hoseok turned a few shades redder. 

“Someone get this idiot some water,” Yoongi snorted, and Namjoon already got up.

You turned your gaze to Jisoo when she leaned into you, taking the chaos as a chance to just talk to you, her hand grabbing yours.

“How’s the scarf going by the way? Are your loops now clean?” she whispered, careful to keep her voice low. You glanced towards Jungkook, but he was busy trying to convince Jimin to drink a few sips from the water at least. And though he hadn’t heard a word, you glared at Jisoo, shaking your head.

“Not with him around,” you hissed, and she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, look at him. He’s not paying us attention. I wanna know. I’m invested now, especially because you always called me a grandma for knitting. How’s it going?” she asked, and you knew it was best to just quickly answer her because she wasn’t dropping this.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it now. It’s almost done-”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Jennie asked, leaning in, eyes wandering between Jisoo and you.

“Y/N’s knitting a scarf for her boyfriend for Christmas.”

“Ji!” 

Your features couldn’t decide whether or not to contort in embarrassment or fear Jungkook had overheard this time. It’d ruin your surprise. You were in luck though because he wasn’t paying your conversation any mind.

“Oh, that’s cute!” Jennie squealed. “I only thought Ji knits. I didn’t know you knit too, Y/N.”

“I-”

“She doesn’t. She just sews a little,” Jisoo said, beating you to it. She leaned towards Jennie as if she was telling her a secret and didn’t want you to hear, but she deliberately kept eye contact with you and didn’t even lower her voice, her lips curling up. “She learned how to knit for her stupid little boyfriend. She asked me so many questions and bought so much yarn too. It was so annoying-”

You kicked Jisoo in the shin, shutting her up. She sharply sucked in her breath, hands flying to her leg, mouth agape in a silent screech.

“You’re talking too much,” you hissed, not remorseful at all even as she rubbed her shin. Jennie laughed. 

“That’s really cute of you though, Y/N,” she said, smiling at you. “I like the idea. He’s gonna love it.”

“It’s just a scarf,” Jisoo mumbled, rolling her eyes, words dipping into an astonishing amount of immaturity. “It’s not that cute. I could knit you a better scarf-”

“Stop bragging. It’s different. You’ve always knit. Y/N made an effort to learn how to for Kook.”

“I’d learn how to do something new for you.”

“So do.”

“What? Like I won’t?”

You took that as your cue to exit the conversation, glancing over to Jungkook instead. He hadn’t noticed your conversation at all. In fact, he was stuffing his mouth full. Some extra sauce decorated the corner of his mouth in his haste. Without missing a beat, you wiped it off with your thumb before cleaning it on his napkin. He turned to you, eyes as big as a reindeer caught in headlights. It hit you only then as he stared at you and you stared at him, what you had done. How intimate the nature of the gesture had been. You might as well have ripped out your heart and told him to keep it. It would have been the same.

“Did… you just-”

“Oh, the wine is actually so good!” Jisoo sighed, putting down her glass, and right now you were very glad she sat next to you. “I think that’s the best wine I’ve ever had.”

Jungkook’s eyes darted between her and you. He was thinking, contemplating if he’d engage with Jisoo in a conversation, or tease you until you were just about ready to be swallowed by a hole. Maybe it was the way you wouldn’t even look in his direction and kept your gaze trained on Jisoo, or maybe because he was planning on bringing it up another time, but in the end, he decided to spare you.

“I’m happy to hear you like it,” he grinned before jabbing you in the side. You flinched, grabbing his hand before he could do it again. “See, and you said they wouldn’t taste the difference.”

“She doesn’t,” you grumbled, brows creased together.

“She’s just saying that because she knows how expensive it is,” Taehyung said, and for once you agreed. Jisoo rolled her eyes at him, mumbling something about not wanting to argue with an idiot and picking a piece of lint off of Jennie’s shoulder instead.

Jungkook shrugged. “Whatever. She likes it, so worth every penny.”

You were about to let go of his hand, feeling any kind of contact was a step too much, a step into a very wrong and dangerous direction. But Junkook interlaced his fingers with yours, holding it firm, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. For a second, you contemplated pulling away because this was too much, too close. You didn’t, not finding the strength in you to do it. 

“Actually, I haven’t learned half of my mom’s cooking. She always makes this amazing pork belly stew for every Christmas. If you love this, you’ll love that,” Chaeyoung said, pulling you into their conversation that seemed to have circled back to her cooking.

“Are you gonna go back home for Christmas? Because I’ll go with you if so. That stew sounds amazing,” Yoongi said.

“Oh my God, if you are, please take me with you too because this is so good,” Jennie sighed dreamily, making Chaeyoung laugh. 

“Excuse me, what about our Christmas plans?” Jisoo gasped with faux upset, and immediately Hoseok, Chaeyoung, Jimin and you exchanged glances. 

Moving fast, Hoseok mouthed and you nodded. You had no idea. At the same time, it seemed to work for them.

“Oh, can’t we just drop by for dinner really quickly for some food?” Jennie tried, pursing her lips into a pout, but Jisoo just clicked her tongue and shook her head.

“Good food is all it takes, huh?”

Jennie laughed.

“Is everyone going home for Christmas?” Namjoon asked, wiping his mouth before grabbing his glass of wine, holding it up to his lips, speaking into it. “I know Kook is for sure.”

Jungkook nodded. “Got me there.”

And even without looking at him, you knew he was smiling and more than excited to go back home. He squeezed your hand, and you could tell he did so unconsciously. You squeezed back, happy for him that he was happy.

“Oh, right, I’ve been meaning to ask!” Jimin gasped, turning rather dramatically towards you. You blinked, unsure of what was about to spill from his lips.

“Is it true that you’re going back home with Kook, Y/N?” 

What?

Everyone turned to you, Chaeyoung raising her brow at you because were you? You stared back at her, mouth opened and closing because no, right? You weren’t, or were you? Your eyes lifted to Jungkook, and he had that same look on his face. Neither of you knew what to say or do. This wasn’t something you had discussed. And why would you have? It’d be ridiculous to assume that you’d be going back home with Jungkook to meet his parents for Christmas.

“Uh-?”

“I’m just asking because Kook’s parents have been asking me if I knew if he’s actually gonna bring you,” Jimin continued, shrugging. And maybe you would have focused on how much you wanted to strangle him right now and needed him to shut up if your mind wasn’t reeling from the fact that Jungkook seemed to have not only told his parents about your existence but also that you would be spending Christmas with them.

What?

“Okay, yeah, no, wait,” Jungkook interjected, a clear panic in his voice, turning fully to you. “I can explain.”

You blankly stared at him, unable to even make a single sound. He dug a hand through his hair, looking even more panicked the longer you said nothing.

“So, uh, my brother saw my posts and stories online and might have told my parents… that I’m dating you. And so they’ve been really curious and asking about you a lot, and it was a little annoying, so I just told them that I might bring you around for Christmas to shut them up. But—” He held out his hand as if to get ahead of you saying anything. “—I didn’t promise them anything. I just said it to get them off my back, you know?”

You continued staring at him, unsure of how to react or what to say because well, you hadn’t thought that either of your parents were ever going to get involved in any shape or form. You hadn’t even played with the idea of telling your parents. And why would you? All of this was fake! A ruse, so Jungkook could win his stupid bet!

“It wasn’t planned, or anything, okay? I wasn’t going to tell them about you-”

“You weren’t?” Jimin blurted out, brows pinching together. He seemed to have lost all ability to read the room, just a glass or two of wine enough to dull his brain. “Ow-!”

He glared at Taehyung, rubbing his arm. It still wasn’t enough to shut him up however. 

“What was that for? I’m just saying I’m a little surprised that Jungkook, the definition of a mama’s and papa’s boy, was planning on keeping his girlfriend a secret when he hasn’t shut up about Y/N for months-”

“No, wait it’s not like that,” Jungkook quickly scrambled, gesturing wildly. “It’s just that my parents, you know, can get a little much. And, I don’t know-”

His sentence didn’t find an end, and Jimin seemed to just take that as a sign to go on, 

“Didn’t Narae meet-”

“Okay, how about you finish your food, huh?” Taehyung interrupted, taking Jimin’s fork and picking up a big piece of meat before shoving it into his mouth. Namjoon and Seokjin exchanged glances, cringing. Yoongi lowered his head, and Jennie slid down on her seat. Chaeyoung looked at you with big empathetic eyes and Jisoo even gave your hand a squeeze. 

If there was anything genuine between you, this would have been devastating. Luckily, there wasn’t. So it couldn’t hurt. And yet, your heart felt like it was bleeding in your chest, a dagger shoved in, a dagger with Jungkook’s name. He was staring holes into you, but you couldn’t look at him, settling on the edge of the table instead. You weren’t hurt. You weren’t hurt that Narae with her perfect smile and manicured nails and beautiful hair and glossy lips got to meet his parents and you didn’t. It didn’t bother you at all! That was what you told yourself at least. Because you couldn’t possibly be hurt. Not when your relationship was transactional and just an act. And yet, to your misery, you were hurt, deeply. You hated it, how you weren’t all that unbothered as you wanted and more importantly, should be. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts though when you saw the glare Hoseok was looking at Jungkook with. It dawned on you how awful all of it had to sound to your friends then. Narae, who never even was Jungkook’s official girlfriend, got to meet his parents, but you, who was officially (at least to them) his girlfriend, he not only didn’t want to introduce to them but also planned on keeping a secret?

“Oh my God, you guys!” you laughed, loud and light, like it was all so very dumb and stupid. With a big swoop, you grabbed Jungkook’s hand on the table, hoping no one saw the shake in your fingers. Everyone looked at you.

“You’re misunderstanding. We had agreed from the beginning that we should take it a little slower, and not tell everyone immediately. I knew he wasn’t going to tell his parents. I told him not to.” You put on your most convincing smile, swallowing the knot in your throat, hoping desperately it was enough. Everyone was looking at you, and you looked right back at them, at everyone except for Jungkook. Your vision almost blurred, hazy at the edges, feeling your composure threaten to slip.

“It’s nothing.”

There was a slight shake in your voice, the tiniest of a waver. You couldn’t tell if your friends noticed, their faces unreadable to you. A moment of silence stretched across the room, the food long forgotten about. In the end, it was slightly tipsy Jimin, the one who started it all, to break the awkwardness.

“Okay, well, do I text them… yes or-?”

You wondered if Jimin was this stupid, or trying to put you through hell on purpose. His question made Taehyung next to him sigh and shake his head, lips pressed together as he stared daggers into the older one.

“What?” Jimin whispered, offended. Maybe you should have taken the wine from him sooner. 

You looked at Jungkook finally. He didn’t seem to have an answer at all, his eyes big and wide like a child’s. There was something in them that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It almost seemed like he wanted you to agree, say yes, of course, you’d meet his parents. You had to be imagining it. As quickly as it had come, you squashed the thought.

It was up to you. The decision was in your hands. Everyone was waiting for your answer. Jungkook would have to go with whatever you were saying, whether or not he liked it. 

A lot of it was probably spite, spite that Narae met them already and you hadn’t. And how would it look if you weren’t there when Jungkook inevitably made a post about being back home with his family and you weren’t there in the pictures? What would Narae think? You could already see a backhanded Instagram story in front of your eyes, how there was trouble in paradise. It was something you wouldn’t put past her at all, seeing as she had done so before, posting just an hour after Jungkook celebrated your one month anniversary about how cringe some couples could be. Anyone doubting your relationship might just lead to Taehyung doubting your relationship and then to Jungkook losing his bet and all of this would have been for nothing. That couldn’t happen, right? You had to do something against it!

“They probably won’t stop bothering you until you tell them yes, right?” 

You tried your hardest to sound casual, nonchalant, chill as some might say. This was no big deal, you told yourself.

It wasn’t what Jungkook had expected. He thought you’d give some roundabout answer that in the end summarised that you needed to keep things slow and easy. But you agreed. You were going to meet his parents. He searched for something in your features, anything to tell him how you genuinely felt about it. He was trying to read you, but it was like he had the wrong dictionary. 

“If that’s alright with you-” Maybe it was to hit the nail on the head, finish it off, you couldn’t say. But the urge was strong right then, just once to say it. “—babe?”

You turned to him and looked at him almost confidently. It was both your face and the pet name, but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, now you were going to call him babe. A grin spread across his lips.

“Okay, yeah.” He held your hand firmer and tighter. “I’d be more than happy for you to meet my parents. They’d be thrilled.”

He was a great liar. It sounded oh so very genuine.

You squeezed his hand and turned to Jimin. “I guess you can text them I’m going.”

“I think that was it,” Jungkook said, handing you the last few dirty plates. 

“Alright,” you hummed, moving around some of the dishes to make some more space in the dishwasher. 

“Oh,” Chaeyoung exclaimed in surprise upon seeing Jungkook standing there with you, “you can head out first. I’ll help Y/N.” 

She wore a smile on her lips, but you knew better. 

“It’s fine. I’ll just help-”

“No, really, get out,” Chaeyoung interrupted, slipping just the slightest bit and you gave Jungkook a look, almost reaching out for his hand and giving it a squeeze. She was curt, too curt. It surprised him, clearly. “I’m the host. I’ll clean up. Join the others in the living room.”

You offered him a nod, and with that Jungkook slipped out, receiving a more genuine smile and a quiet thank you from Chaeyoung on the way out because she knew he was more than confused by her just now. Before he even had the chance to turn to ask whether or not he should close the door, she did herself. You knew to prepare yourself, putting the stack of dishes aside. She folded her arms in front of her stomach.

This was an interrogation.

In another world (read: in a detective TV show), there’d be a metal table between you and you’d be handcuffed to it. A clock would decorate the blank walls, ticking away in the background, and the air would be chilly and humid, stifling almost. Chaeyoung would dramatically slide pictures across to you, and they would be incriminating ones, blurry but clearly depicting you in the middle of whatever crime you were accused of. She would point at them and tell you how you had one chance to tell her the truth.

“How are you?”

Just the question almost made you laugh. It was heartwarming. You knew exactly what she was trying to get out of you—if it hurt you at all that Narae had met Jungkook’s parents and he had seemingly wanted to keep you a secret. You dried your hands on the kitchen towel.

“I’m fine, thanks. How are you-”

“Are you lying?”

She took this very seriously, her face not even holding a hint of a smile. Again, in another world she’d stare you down, gaze cold and unwavering, and ask if you wanted to try again.

“Do I look like I am lying?”

You were lying about all of it, about most things concerning Jungkook and you these days. But you couldn’t say that. You couldn’t admit that the entire conversation during dinner hurt you to the degree it did, to a degree you would rather not admit, that it hurt at all to begin with. Because being hurt implied you had some sort of right to be, implied Jungkook owed you… something. And that was just not true.

Chaeyoung paused, sizing you up. It was hard to figure out what conclusion she came to, her eyes narrowed and sharp. She opened her mouth, but right then, someone announced themselves with a knock on the door. Without waiting, they poked their head in, and it could realistically only be one person. 

“What did she say?” Jisoo asked.

Were you air today?

“Says she’s fine,” Chaeyoung said, wrinkling her nose.

“You don’t believe her?” Jisoo slipped inside and slowly closed the door, making sure beforehand though that no one was in earshot. Chaeyoung scrutinised you for another moment before coming to her conclusion with a long sigh.

“No, I do.” She paused before looking at you. “You know I’d- we’d rip him into pieces for you, right?”

You had no doubt for a second they would. Actually, all of your friends would, but Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be the first ones to throw a punch.

“I do, and I love you guys for it,” you say, smiling genuinely because God, you did love your friends so much. “But you don’t have to because I’m fine. And like I said, we had talked about it. You know how I am. Parents aren’t my thing.”

“Well, for that you just agreed to go meet them,” Jisoo mumbled, scrunching her nose, and you swallowed. Maybe it was hearing it from someone else, or maybe it was because you were no longer sitting around the dinner table with everyone expectedly staring at you and awaiting for an explanation, but it finally hit you. What exactly you had agreed to. Once your mind wasn’t clouded with the thought of Narae, you realised that oh my God, you were meeting Jungkook’s parents.

It was funny how quickly things could change. How just a few minutes ago, you didn’t worry about it at all, only thinking of Narae and her stupid perfect grin and the fact she had met them, and now you were worried because what would they say about you? Would they like you? What if they were like Jaehwa’s parents and-

“Now, don’t make that face,” Chaeyoung interrupted, putting a hand on your shoulder, noticing your spiral. “They’re gonna like you.”

“Yeah, you don’t have anything to worry about at all, Y/N,” Jisoo reassured. “If anything, they should be on their best behaviour. Because if not…”

And like the amazing friend she was, Jisoo started punching the air, showing you her swift moves that she would put on Jungkook’s parents. 

“Can’t you see? They say one wrong thing, and it’d be over for them. Ji would do these weird punches and knock them right out,” Chaeyoung said. “It’s gonna be fine. Has to.”

“Also, with the way Jungkook acts with you, let’s be honest he’s head over heels for you,” Jisoo argued, putting an arm around you. “I can see him standing up for you.”

“Yeah, I hate to give a man any credit, but he would.”

“And again, if he doesn’t…” Jisoo didn’t finish her sentence, instead showing you her oh so brilliant and not wobbly but actually super fatal kick.

They both turned to you, and you slowly nodded. Maybe they were right. You didn’t necessarily think Jungkook would stand up for you, not because you didn’t believe he would but because you didn’t even let yourself go there. If you did, if you assumed he would do something like that for you, you’d be having expectations for him and you had no right to. But you knew that Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be there for you, and it was a comforting thought. That was enough. Your friends were enough. And maybe, you just liked to believe them too—that it would all somehow turn out just fine.

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumbled.

“It’s gonna be fine!” Chaeyoung repeated, squeezing your shoulder.

Before you could dwell on it any further, a knock on the kitchen door interrupted you. 

“Yeah?” Jisoo said, and a moment later, Hoseok stuck his head in, offering an apologetic smile because he obviously knew what was going on in here.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Jimin asked for you, Chae,” he said, sounding unsure. He clearly hadn’t gotten a reason as to why he was supposed to call for Chaeyoung. She frowned and seemed less than willing to go, but you saw this as a great opportunity to put an end to this conversation and move on. Ignoring the fact you were going to meet Jungkook’s parents wasn’t going to solve the issue, but right now your brain felt mushy and drained. Too much of today’s focus had been on you, you couldn’t do it any longer.

“Let’s just all go,” you said. “We’ve been here for too long anyway.”

Jisoo agreed, mumbling something about how she couldn’t leave Jennie alone with all of the guys outside any longer, not in good conscience at least. She helped you put the last few plates into the dishwasher, and hooked her arm with yours as you made your way back into the living room, her head resting on your shoulder.

“Did he say what he wanted?” Chaeyoung asked Hoseok, the two walking behind you. 

“Probably something stupid.”

And indeed it was.

Because the moment Jisoo and you had made it past the doorstep, Jimin jumped up and pointed at Chaeyoung and Hoseok. The two froze, all eyes on them, and when you turned to look, you found them in the same fate as Jungkook and you had been in earlier.

“Oh, Jimin,” you chuckled, shaking your head. He beamed with pride, chest out and a grin bigger than his entire face. 

“We aren’t-” Chaeyoung couldn’t even finish her sentence, sputtering for words. “No! This is… stupid!”

“You have to. Otherwise, it’s bad luck,” Jungkook grinned. “That’s what you said, right, Seok?”

Hoseok looked positively ready to strangle him, but you couldn’t have been prouder of him right now. Even though Jimin was the one to orchestrate this, it felt like sweet revenge to get back at Hoseok. And really, you were helping him and Chaeyoung. Maybe today was the day finally something would happen.

“Seok and I aren’t- we aren’t-”

“It’s just a kiss!” Seokjin said, and you nodded. Because as much as you felt for them, having been in their position, you knew Chaeyoung wouldn’t have come to your rescue. She might have disapproved, but she would have definitely enjoyed the show and let it go on until you kissed.

“Just do a quick peck,” Taehyung suggested, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek to demonstrate. The older one wiped his cheek and shook his head, but there was clear amusement tugging on the corners of his mouth too. You laughed at the absurdity of it all, especially when you caught the embarrassed looks on Chaeyoung’s and Hoseok’s faces.

“Also if you hadn’t walked in together like I had predicted you obviously would, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” Jimin said, and Hoseok let out a noise that could only be described as a weak and mangled attempt at faux upset. “You guys are so clearly in love with each other anyway, just kiss!”

“Oh my God,” Chaeyoung let out a scoff, but it sounded pitchy and panicked, “seriously? H-how many times do we have to tell you guys that we are just really good friends? Just like Jimin and Y/N!”

“Don’t be ridiculous here, Chae,” you laughed. “Jimin and I are just friends, but you two? Oh, please.”

“There was an attempt, huh?”

Chaeyoung glared at Jisoo, her cheeks gaining a deeper shade of red with every passing second. In a last ditch attempt, she turned to Hoseok, hoping for some backup from him.

“Tell them-”

This time when her sentence got lodged in her throat, it was for a very different reason. Because Hoseok was looking at her like he was ready to risk it all in front of everybody. Like he was ready to just say it, do something. And Chaeyoung knew, freezing to a statue.

Jisoo and you looked at each other, gasping. Her nails dug into your arm and you held onto her just as strongly. Your breath hitched in your throat as Hoseok placed a hand on Chaeyoung’s cheek, pausing and hesitating for a moment, as if he waited for her to reject him before ultimately kissing her. And instantly, she pulled him closer.

It was like a scene out of every 2000s romantic comedy, the finale of the third act, what you had all been waiting up to. It was a scene to swoon and die for. 

A sense of joy you had rarely felt overtook you, a rush. You began shaking Jisoo, mouth split into a grin. As much as you had wanted and actually still wanted to strangle Jimin tonight for bringing that stupid mistletoe, you were just about ready to kiss him (platonically and only figuratively of course).

“See!” Jimin laughed, pointing at Hoseok and Chaeyoung, both of them flushed red to the tips of their ears. But they were smiling too. This had been good.

“I can’t believe that this is how you guys get together,” Jisoo laughed, Chaeyoung and Hoseok looking at each other, his arm wrapped around her middle. They laughed, shrugging.

Jimin proudly pointed at himself, beaming brighter than a Christmas tree. “All my doing.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi laughed, trying and failing to kick him in the knee. And though his attempt wasn’t successful, it earned him a thank you! from Chaeyoung. Jimin looked over to Namjoon for some kind of help, but he simply shrugged. He scoffed when he saw Seokjin squeeze Yoongi’s shoulder, mumbling something about how he was just jealous.

“I mean… neither did I,” Hoseok chuckled, seeming still completely out of it, unbelieving.

“Thought about it a lot, huh?” Taehyung asked, grinning, and for a moment, you could see Hoseok struggling to answer, decide whether or not he wanted to admit the blatant truth, confess that he’d been imagining this more times than he should have. In the end, he cared less about saving face and looking cool, and much more about who he had his arm wrapped around, finally.

“Yeah, always.”

And just like that, Chaeyoung pulled him down for another kiss. The sight warmed Jisoo’s heart because she turned to Jennie, reaching out for her. With a slight tug, she was at Jennie’s side. You laughed, shaking your head, just to catch Jungkook looking at you. For a moment, you didn’t quite know what to do even though you weren’t the one caught staring. The same couldn’t be said about Jungkook. He didn’t seem to care at all, eyes not holding an ounce of uncertainty. It was obvious that he was much more confident and comfortable with being seen by you. Something you still weren’t at this point, not entirely at least, not right in this very moment, or… actually ever.

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he stretched his hand out. You hesitated, if just for a second. Because maybe you shouldn’t. Not when your heart was beating the way it was. And yet, you did take it, did let him pull you close and hold you and press his lips to the top of your head.

“You don’t have to meet them if you don’t want to.”

He whispered it, spoke in a soft and warm voice. His words floated to your ears, and you knew. You didn’t have to do anything ever actually. Not for him at least. He expected nothing from you. You closed your eyes, and listened to his heartbeat in his chest. Strong and firm. It was the opposite of yours. Yours was a mess, thumping and skipping beats. 

“I will.”

Jungkook smiled as bright as the sun, pressing another kiss to your head. You could feel the excitement rushing through his fingertips, his arm tightening around you. You didn’t know the reason for it, his excitement. It didn’t make sense why he would be, you weren’t his girlfriend after all. You refused to think about it, preferring the bliss of ignorance.

God, you loved him so much. You did. You loved Jungkook to an indescribable amount. And God, was it time to stop all of this.

The video had been playing for less than twenty seconds when the call came in, your phone lighting up beside you. You paused your laptop, his name taking up your entire phone screen. And though Jungkook and you had begun calling each other more frequently now, spending at least once a week on the phone together, you were confused when you glanced at the time. But you accepted the call, sliding your thumb over the glass. Some ruffling met your ears before finally, he came through.

“Hi.”

For some reason, there was a smile on your lips.

“What do you want?” you laughed, glancing at the time in the upper left corner of your phone. 01:24. “It’s late. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Could say the same about you,” Jungkook argued, and you rolled your eyes, scoffing slightly, already sensing where this was going. You leaned back into your couch, looking at the ceiling with renewed interest.

“I’m not tired.”

“Neither am I.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then neither do I.”

“Well, you had a full day of classes today, so you must be at least a little tired,” you shot back, and a beat of silence passed. For a moment, it seemed like you came out victorious. 

“You know my schedule?”

The question hung in front of you, and you were glad that this was just a call. Because you could see it, his stupid face. The proud smile on his lips, the grin that adorned it. He would inch closer to you, push you to answer, and you would cave and crumble terribly. 

“... no.”

And Jungkook began laughing almost immediately, his voice booming through your phone. You cringed, biting your tongue. 

“I’m going to hang up.”

“No, no, no, don’t,” he said, still laughing however. “I’m sorry.”

His apology didn’t sound an ounce sincere, but you were never going to actually hang up. A comfortable silence passed, and you could have stayed on the phone forever.

“Oh, have you watched the newest video I sent you yet?”

“You mean the two hour long video essay about the phenomenal music scoring of Avatar?” you hummed, glancing over to your laptop to see the screen dark already. “Yeah, I was about to watch it when you called.”

Somehow, you could hear his smile forming on his lips. “You should watch it.”

“Yeah, I will,” you said, sighing and rolling your eyes.

There was silence for another few seconds. 

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, and you could tell he was genuinely curious. You blinked, having completely forgotten what you had been up to until he called. You looked at the ball of yarn sitting in your lap, your attempt at a scarf hanging between the two knitting needles. But you couldn’t tell him, it would ruin the surprise. 

And so, you returned the question instead. “What are you doing?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

Jungkook sighed. “You’re very fun to talk to sometimes, you know?”

You laughed, not missing the irony in his voice. “Thanks. You are too.”

“Just tell me,” he said, and you frowned at his poor attempt to get you to talk. 

“Why don’t you tell me first?”

He let out a small scoff, and you could picture his face perfectly. The way his tongue would be digging into his cheek and his eyes rolling back because God, you were frustrating sometimes! But there would be an undeniable smile on his lips. There always was. 

“Alright,” Jungkook said, and you raised your brows. “I’m outside.”

You frowned. “Where are you going? At this hour?”

“Why don’t you guess?” 

“Just tell me.”

He paused, hesitated. Somehow, you could hear his grin turn bigger.

“How about you look outside and see for yourself instead?”

Your heart sank in your chest, something strange taking hold of you. You moved without a thought, almost knocking over one of your pothos sitting on your window sill when you pulled the curtain aside. The glass was cool to touch, but you pressed your entire hand against it, just to feel something steady. Because right now, you felt the opposite of it, heart jumping to your throat and beating there like it was bound to fall out. Because there was no way that he was here right now! This wasn’t a cheesy romcom! But you also knew that he wouldn’t lie to you.

And he didn’t. 

There he was, standing on the sidewalk, in front of your building, phone pressed to his ear, head in his neck, mouth in a grin and waving up to you. 

You opened and closed your mouth several times, scoffing in the end and shaking your head.

“You’re so… stupid, Jeon.”

Jungkook laughed, “Well, that’s been established before.”

“You’re such a ridiculous stupid little man, Jeon!” you went on, pressing a hand to your forehead and squeezing your eyes closed for a moment. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, is it a crime now to drop by your girlfriend’s home when you miss her?”

The words rolled off his tongue with a certain confidence and ease. Two things you rarely ever had, even less around Jungkook. It always seemed so very fragile and dangerous, to be so open and vulnerable. You couldn’t snap back, tell him how ridiculous he was because you had just seen each other two days ago at the Christmas party. Hell, you had been spending almost every day with each other—either on the phone or in person driving to Seo’s bakery to pick up your needed batch of cookies or watching Avatar until you both could recite every line. And yet here he was, telling you that he missed you, so much so that he needed to see you in the middle of the night, at 1:42.

Right then, it became blatantly obvious to you—that Jungkook and you had crudely blown the lines you had established beforehand, agreed to contractually, into absolute smithereens, that you two had made new ones, dangerous ones, ones that resembled an actual relationship, and that, even worse, you had not only never talked about it but gotten used to the new rules, comfortable.

And even with that realisation lingering in your mind with big glaring bright red flags hissed high above and every possible alarm blaring in the air, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Jungkook that this was wrong, that he should go home. You should, it would spare your sanity. But your heart had only grown bigger and fonder of him. And it was horrible because you knew even more time with him, alone, in your own four walls, was the worst thing you could do. There would be nowhere for you to go, run off to. But you couldn’t send him home. Because really, you didn’t want to. Because it did excite you. That he was here. That he had gotten up, changed, and made his way to you. That the cold hadn’t even been enough to stop him.

“Now, open up. It’s freezing. My hands and feet are already blue,” he told you, adding a dramatic shiver to his words.

You paused, frowned, searched and didn’t see it anywhere. It clicked with you. You hadn’t heard the engine or turn signal during the entirety of your call. 

“Did you- did you walk here? Why didn’t you take your car?”

“Felt like it.”

“You’re so stupid, oh my God,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you repeatedly pressed the buzzer to open the front door for him. “Never ever do that again. It’s freezing outside!”

Jungkook responded with a laugh. It echoed on the walls of your empty lobby, reverberating through the phone. “Alright, I won’t. I promise.”

“Also, shouldn’t you be writing that stupid paper about Newton or Einstein or whatever?”

“It’s not about either of them, but I still have a bit of time until the deadline,” he explained, and you heard him walk up the stairs. “Thanks for remembering though.”

You pressed your lips together. “What if I was sleeping?”

“But you aren’t.” He sounded so incredibly smug and proud. You could have punched him. “Also, I know you, cabbage. You’d rather die than go to bed at a reasonable time.”

And somehow, that admission embarrassed you. It did. Terribly. Because he did, he did know you oh so well. 

You left the front door ajar for him, waiting there with your hands folded in front of you, fingers picking on each other, as you listened to his steps grow closer and louder. His hand was the first thing you saw, reaching and touching the doorknob, and then it was suddenly just all of him. In front of you. He smiled at your sight, and you knew you looked more embarrassed and unsure than ever before. You were relieved you still hadn’t changed the lightbulb that had burned through all those months ago, allowing the dark to obscure you from him, a soft shadow across your face. 

Jungkook shrugged off his coat, hanging it on the hook behind the front door and revealing his maroon knit sweater and black pants to you. When he looked at you again, his gaze softened.

“Hi, cabbage.” His cheeks and nose were brutally red from the wind, but he seemed as happy as ever. “I made you something.”

You noticed the metal lunchbox in his hands only when he pushed it towards you, and when you took it, it was still warm. Like whatever he had prepared, he had packed up the minute it was done and came straight to you. 

“What did you make?” you asked, and you knew he wouldn’t tell you, waiting for you to open the lunchbox instead and discover for yourself. You peeled open the lid just a little, revealing a small corner when the smell hit you. Your eyes shot to Jungkook, and he looked both sheepish and proud. 

“You didn’t.”

A gasp, your features melting. He wrinkled his nose, turned his head to the side.

“I was gonna go get some from Seo’s Bakery, but they- did you know they’re on Christmas break?”

You nodded, eyes unable to take off of him, blabbering, “Yeah, of course. They always are. Every Christmas. Have always been.”

Jungkook made a gesture towards you, shrugging. “Well, so I thought- I don’t know. I’d make you some instead. You gotta fuel your addiction somehow, right?”

There was no denying how many sweet gestures Jungkook had made ever since you’d been doing this (whatever one might classify this as). The amount of flowers and cookies he’d showered you with. The amount of smiles and laughs he’d pulled from you. The amount of love he’d shown you, even if it wasn’t real. 

You put the lunchbox aside, needing to return the gesture at least once. Leaning over your couch, you grabbed the half-finished scarf you’d made for him. You wanted to show him, reciprocate some of the affection and love. But in your haste, you forgot the ball of yarn the scarf was connected to.

“Oh, fuck.”

Like a roll of paper, it unfurled, and though it would be annoying to roll it all up again, you shoved the scarf into Jungkook’s face, uncaring.

“It’s not finished- or particularly well done. But- I made that… for you,” you hesitated, a lump lodged in your throat. “I also just chose a random colour- if you don’t like red, I could definitely change it, you know. It’s not even done-”

He took it from your hands, silencing you. Your brows knit together as you watched him admire the intricate and detailed rows of red yarn. And then, he wrapped it around his neck even though the scarf was still attached to the ball of yarn and the knitting needles were poking into his neck. 

“Wait, no,” you laughed, already reaching to take it off. “You don’t have to wear it or anything- Like I said, it’s not even done. I still have to-”

Jungkook took hold of your hands. Your eyes met his. He smiled at you. 

“You’re so cute, cabbage,” he told you, his gaze so full and soft. And you melted right then and there, your face lit up like a fire. Melted even more so when Jungkook kissed you and pressed his forehead against yours. “I love it, cabbage. Thank you so much.”

“Really?” you said it softly, delicately, anxiously.

As if it was a proper way of responding, Jungkook took your hand and placed it on his chest. You could feel it then, under your palm and fingertips, through the fabric of his sweater, his heart. 

“Really.”

And you let yourself believe him a little.

You don’t know how. It was blurry to you, all of it, but somehow, his head ended up in your lap with your fingers threading through his hair and your back pressed to the side of your bed. You both shared the batch of cookies while you finished a few more rows for the scarf before ultimately calling it, putting it to the side, promising him you’d finish it as soon as possible. Instead, a bottle of supermarket wine found its way into your hands, the glasses always filled with the red liquid. Neither of you said much. And really, there simply wasn’t a need to, the minutes ticking by as the night went on and on. An intimacy lay between you, an intimacy most would never know, an intimacy that could only come from the strange nature of your relationship. 

“What?” you said, almost laughing, sure you had to have misheard him.

“I’m serious. I really like it here,” Jungkook repeated. “I like your home, a lot.”

Your mouth opened and closed before you shook your head and laughed. “But why?”

To you, there wasn’t much to like about your home here. If anything there was more to dislike than like. It was too cramped, too small. The furniture was old and shabby and the lights didn’t even work properly. On bad days, it would get either unbearably freezing or hot in here. And on particularly bad days where your luck had run out, the water would run cold and the electricity cut out. There wasn’t much to love here, except for your big bed and pothos you had on your window sill.

“I feel like I get to see another side of you,” Jungkook told you, shrugging and wrinkling his nose. “You seem much more relaxed at home.”

You frowned. “Where else should I be relaxed if not at home?”

He rolled his eyes at your comment, shaking his head. “No, I just mean… you don’t seem on guard at home.”

“I’m on guard?”

There was a pause. He looked at you for a long time, eyes wandering across your entire face.

“Yeah, sometimes.” He wrinkled his forehead a little. “I think you used to be more on guard, or at least you were around me.” There was another pause, another beat, another moment of suspense. “Wouldn’t you say you’ve opened up to me more since you let me in here for the first time?”

The question stumped you. Because did everything really change then? You couldn’t say. To a certain degree, Jungkook was right. Things had drastically shifted between him and you. Before you would have never been in this position—on the floor together, in your home, his head in your lap and your hands combing through his hair as you shared cookies and wine. But before you would have talked about it, established rules and laws and all kinds of conditions, and gone through every possibility. Now though, the two of you had gotten awfully comfortable with just simply not.

“Why? Because I slept with you?” you quipped, knowing already even in your slightly tipsy state that it wasn’t that.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said, sighing. You wrinkled your nose and looked to the ceiling for a few moments, leaning your head back.

“Should I be on guard?”

“Around me?” Jungkook said, shaking his head. “No, never. I’m an honest boy.”

You laughed, even more so when you looked at him and he was grinning proudly into your face, standing by his cheesy words. “You make me want to kick you out.”

“Please don’t,” he said, offering you puppy eyes and snuggling even closer to you. “I wouldn’t know what to do if you did.”

He winced when you tugged on his hair, slightly away from you. “You’re annoying.”

Jungkook laughed, and you went back to silence for a while.

“Are you ever going to tell me what Joon and the others said to you that made you run into the bathroom the other day?”

It was probably the alcohol, all the time you had spent together, sitting there on the cold floor. Your mind wasn’t the clearest anymore, and neither was his. 

“They just told me how whipped you are for me. How deeply and madly you’re in love with me,” you snorted, teasingly inching closer to his face with each word before pulling away. 

He smiled a little, clearly expecting worse. “Really? They said that?”

“I know.” You took two big sips, downing more than half of what was in the glass, not wanting to lose that fuzzy feeling in your veins. “It’s funny, right?”

You snorted, knowing exactly what he was thinking—That was ridiculous! 

“But true.”

Jungkook didn’t hesitate. But he said it softly. So softly in fact you looked at him to check that you hadn’t made it up. When his mouth widened into a grin, you scoffed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“It’s true. I do. I am.”

It sounded so very ironic to your ears. You shook your head and scoffed. “Is that what you told Narae too?”

Her mention from your lips surprised Jungkook, his eyes growing a little wider. You were equally as taken aback. But it was true. Because you did think about it sometimes if he did and said the same things to Narae. If everything you experienced with him had been experienced before, just with someone else, someone with a perfect smile and perfect parents. 

“You don’t know me at all, Y/N,” Jungkook mumbled, and it sounded accusatory. 

Your heart dropped in your chest. It felt like you were shot, the hurt instant. You looked away, teeth sinking into your tongue. But he wasn’t off. You didn’t know Jungkook very well. Why should you though? Not like he and you were anything meaningful, like you shared anything truthful. And it was so very embarrassing, so very embarrassing that you felt hurt at all. 

Jungkook seemed to surprise himself with his words, seemed not to mean it like that because he was scrambling the very next second, lifting up from your lap and pleading for you to look his way. 

“No, no, no, I-I don’t mean it like that,” he said, voice a little higher than usual, reaching for your hand, squeezing. There’s a desperation in his voice, a panic swinging with it that he might have just ruined a perfectly fine conversation. 

“You just seem to,” he hesitated, “have this very weird and funny idea of me in your head. I-I never told Narae anything like that. You’re the first one.”

You looked at him. There was a deep crease between his brows, and he went on when you wouldn’t say anything.

“You’re the only one who’s ever made me do these weird things, you know?” He added a chuckle, but there wasn’t much humour to it at all. You tried to smile for him, feeling this conversation was taking a rather serious turn. It was in dire need of some lightness.

“I make you do weird things?” you mumbled, slightly shaking your head, looking away. “I don’t think I’m capable of that.”

“Do you really think I’d try to bake cookies for anyone else in the middle of the night? Or walk to their home at night, not knowing if they’re even actually home because I wanted to surprise them? Or send every Avatar video essay I come across? Do you really think I’d want to dress up with anyone else in a couple’s costume than you?”

You couldn’t find the right response then, your lips pressing together. It was difficult for you to say whether or not you believed him. Because you didn’t think you did, not genuinely at least, not deep down. You never really did with Jungkook, believe him. Because you never let yourself go there, not fully. In the back of your mind, you knew that this was ending, only started because of a stupid little meaningless bet, that your relationship whichever form it had morphed to had no real genuine basis. 

“Do you really think I’d tell anyone else I-”

You shoved a cookie into his mouth, silencing him. Your gaze turned sideways, it was easier to speak for you then. If you looked at Jungkook, you wouldn’t be able to say anything.

“Alright, I got it, Jeon. Now, eat your cookie and shut up,” you chuckled, and your words were accompanied with a lightness, a lightness you forced out of yourself and hoped was enough to quiet Jungkook. He stared at you, eyes big, before ultimately letting out a chuckle himself when he saw you smile at him. He held onto your hand, squeezing it. 

“If I wasn’t too lazy to reach for my phone, I’d take a picture of you right now,” he told you with his mouth stuffed, matching your tone, keeping it light and fun. It was amazing, how both of you simply moved on. He broke off a piece and held it to your mouth. You took it from his fingertips, letting him feed you. The sugar melted on your tongue. “Really thought you had learned your lesson, you know? That you were less judgemental now.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, still chewing. He laughed when you rolled your eyes.

For a few minutes, neither of you said anything. It seemed like the moment had resolved as easily as it had come up. You took a few sips from your glass, filling it back up when you emptied it, and Jungkook shared the last bite of the cookie with you, holding the piece in front of your lips and allowing you to pull it from his fingertips. And when he kept his fingers in front of your mouth, you pressed a quick kiss to them. He smiled and took your hand into his again, fingers interlacing. 

“You’re so weird,” you said, the corners of your eyes creasing when you smiled. 

Jungkook returned it, opened his mouth to retort something clever and funny, but it was like the fire died in him, as if he simply couldn’t let the moment from before slide as easily as you both had hoped and tried for it to. He reached for it again, pulling it back on shore. His face changed, morphed into something else. You couldn’t pinpoint his exact expression, but your stomach churned. For a second, you felt this brief need to cry.

“You—” He hesitated, afraid to ask because he knew you didn’t want him to and he shouldn’t but he needed to ask. “—believe me, right?”

And somehow that question carried the entire weight of the earth because you suffocated underneath it in an instant. There seemed to be so much. It didn’t make sense, there shouldn’t be any deeper meaning behind his question. After all, he and you weren’t anything! And yet, he looked at you as if you were. When you wouldn’t respond, looked away instead, Jungkook let out a chuckle. But it sounded empty and dry, and you knew you had hurt him. 

“I’m sorry.”

There was a sadness to your words, and he noticed. It was the same kind of sadness he heard colouring your words when you had told him about Jaehwa and the heartbreak that had come with him. And he knew then not to take it to heart, your inability to believe him.

“I’m sorry. I want to- It’s just-”

There was desperation, hurt, frustration. You buried your face into your hands, eyes closing. It’s just hard sometimes! I don’t really believe anyone really, you wanted to say. But you didn’t. The admission felt too much, too hard to bring over your lips, too honest. You couldn’t do it. 

Jungkook didn’t say anything, and you waited for him to take all of his things and go. The front door would click shut and with that, you would have ruined it, all of it, the past few months. But it didn’t happen. You didn’t hear his steps moving away from you, or the front door opening. Instead, Jungkook cupped your face with both of his hands, a smile on his lips when you finally looked at him.

“It’s fine.”

And you wished it felt like that to you. Fine. But you hadn’t felt quite fine for a while now. Not since your heart began filling up every time you looked at him. 

“Is it?”

His gaze softened, melted like the first layer of snow in the early morning hours. His thumb brushed over your cheekbones, and his touch was so very warm and comforting. You closed your eyes, and he pressed his lips to yours. It did feel fine right then when he kissed you. He held you firmly and strongly, he wasn’t going to let go. Even if you might not believe him and had your doubts. Your hands curled around his shirt, and you were the one to pull it off of him. Because you needed that right now, something simple. 

“Are you sure-”

You silenced him, removing your shirt. He looked at you for another second before kissing you again. You moved up from the floor to your bed. His lips pressed to every inch of your skin, slow and delicately. Your breathing flattened, soft whimpers emerging from your throat when his hands wandered, brushed the inside of your thighs. Jungkook was everywhere, holding and gripping and squeezing and kissing. It made your chest swell, and for a second, you thought you needed a second heart. Another one to hold it all in. All the feelings brewing inside you, all of your feelings for him. It was too much to bear for your one singular heart.

He held you, stayed close. He never allowed any space between him and you, never allowed you to think he’d get up and leave. And you never let him slip away from you, not tonight, caging him in. One day he would, you were certain of it, convinced. The contract was running up with each day, but right now, he was here, closer than ever.

And in the high of it all, your breaths mixed with his, the air smelling of sweat and lust, your faces flushed and bodies sticky, there were words lying between him and you. In fact, there was so much, it felt heavy. You hoped, in vain, he would let it slide, quietly.

“Y/N, I-”

Jungkook stopped when you shook your head, pleading. You knew the ending of his sentence, he had told you it many times before. And right now, the thought of hearing it, hurt you more than it ever had before. 

“I-”

But he stopped again when you closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his in response, hands cupping his face. He hesitated at first before kissing you back, hoping you’d understand either way. That he wanted this. That he wanted you. You didn’t say it, but Jungkook knew not to cross that line, not right now. As if him not saying it would prevent the inevitable heartbreak you’d be going through in just a few weeks, would change anything. As if you didn’t already love him more than you could comprehend. As if loving him didn’t hurt you.

→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!

[creamflix]

UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 2/5]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [will be added over the course of the series], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: hi friends !! i hope u're liking the series so far <3 seems like persephone! suguru can't catch a break huh D: i wanted to highlight the same scene[s] from suguru's perspective, just to give him a lil depth :") if u want to keep up with the series more quicker, i highly suggest keeping up with the series on ao3 [for quicker updates ^^] thank you to my taglist for their support too :)

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

the drive to megumi’s school was unusually quiet. 

normally, toji would lean into his usual “cool, brooding single dad” act — just enough to avoid attention but keep an edge. but today, he’d done something weirdly out of character: asked you to tag along. 

not that he’d admit it was for any other reason than megumi, obviously. 

nope. definitely nothing else to it.

just… kinda nice having you along for the ride, right?

the two of you settled into his car, and you couldn’t help but smirk at how the radio was suspiciously off. toji didn’t give any explanation, but you were pretty sure it was a preventative measure to avoid another “iris” moment and the resulting accidental kiss. 

which, okay, was kinda cute.

toji tapped his fingers against the wheel, casting the occasional sideways glance at you before finally saying, “so… just curious.” he cleared his throat, like he was trying not to make a big deal out of the question. “what made you, uh… you know, want to write those books?”

you blinked. “oh, my books?”

“yeah, the… passionate ones.” he coughed, looking anywhere but at you. “like, what inspired you to write those… intensely worded stories?”

you laughed, caught off guard. “okay, first of all, ‘intensely worded?’ that’s one way to put it.”

“look, i’m trying to be polite,” he said, giving you a sidelong smirk that made your stomach flip. “but seriously. i mean, it’s a specific line of work. what got you into it?”

you chewed on the inside of your cheek, feeling the familiar blush creeping up. 

“uh, well… honestly, i just thought it was something fun to try out. i like romance and, you know… writing what people connect with. people like the, um, more intense stuff, so… figured i’d give it a shot.”

he nodded, taking it all in. “huh. so, all that… stuff you write —” he paused, trying to phrase it carefully. “that’s from experience or…?”

you let out an awkward laugh, your face heating up even more. “not exactly. i… well, i actually haven’t… i mean, i’m still… y’know.” 

you cleared your throat. “a virgin.”

toji’s eyes went wide. 

“wait, you’re telling me… all that detail, the way you describe things, and you haven’t even…”

“nope.” you shook your head, biting back a smile at his shocked expression. “guess you could say i have a good imagination?”

he let out a low whistle, looking at you with something that was a mix of admiration and… something else you couldn’t quite place. “well, i gotta give you credit. you write it like you’ve, uh, lived it.”

you shrugged, trying to play it cool. “guess it’s all about the research.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “research, huh? well, you’ve got some serious talent in the ‘research’ department then. i’d hate to see what you’d write if you actually… y’know, had the experience.”

“well, maybe one day i will,” you shot back, feeling a little bolder. “and then my books will be even better.”

he chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “you’re something else.”

for a moment, the two of you just looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between you. 

the tension was thick enough to cut, and toji looked like he was about to say something else when megumi’s school finally came into view. he let out a breath, the moment effectively broken as he focused on finding a parking spot.

but as you both waited for megumi to come out, you couldn’t help but wonder what was going through toji’s head… and if he was thinking the same thing you were.

the second megumi spotted you and toji at the school gates, he was off like a shot, running toward you with all the enthusiasm of a kid who’d been waiting all day to see his favorite people. his grin was wide, and his little backpack bounced as he bolted up. and to your surprise (and toji's too), he didn’t go for his dad first — nope, he ran right into your arms like you were his personal safe haven.

“you came!” he squealed, hugging you tightly around the waist as if he hadn't just seen you yesterday. you laughed, hugging him back just as warmly, and you could practically feel the teachers’ eyes drilling holes into your back.

“of course i did,” you said, ruffling his hair. “what, you thought i’d miss out on picking you up?”

“nope!” he said proudly, pulling back and grabbing your hand as if to make sure you wouldn’t vanish.

toji stood off to the side, his hands in his pockets, trying to hide his smirk as he watched the scene unfold. yeah, he wasn’t about to complain about you being here — not at all.

as you all made your way back to the car, you couldn’t help but notice a few teachers and parents exchanging knowing looks, no doubt remembering how toji introduced you as his “colleague” yesterday. they didn’t look too convinced anymore.

inside the car, megumi settled comfortably between the two of you in the backseat, clutching his backpack like he was about to embark on the world’s most exciting road trip.

“sooo!” megumi started, a mischievous look in his eyes. “did you two have fun while i was in school?”

toji let out a tiny cough from the driver’s seat, looking at you in the rearview mirror with a hint of a smirk. “megumi, what exactly do you mean by ‘fun’?”

“i dunno, daddy!” megumi rolled his eyes in that dramatic way only an eight-year-old could pull off. “you were smiling all morning! you never do that!”

you tried to hide a smile yourself, glancing sideways at toji. “he was smiling all morning, huh?”

toji shot you a playful glare before focusing back on the road. “you got somethin’ to say about that?”

“nope, nothing at all,” you replied, suppressing a giggle.

“you’re smiling too!” megumi added, turning his full attention to you with a face that was way too smug for a kid his age. “did you like being with my dad today?”

your eyes widened as you exchanged a quick look with toji. “well, yes, i had a great time working with your dad,” you said carefully, trying to dodge the landmine that megumi had unknowingly set.

“yeah, but did you and daddy, like, do anything else? like on tv?”

toji almost choked, and you couldn’t stop a laugh from slipping out. “megs! we just talked and laughed a bit, nothing like in the movies, promise.”

megumi looked skeptical, folding his arms. “then why are you both acting all funny?”

“what do you mean, ‘funny’?” toji asked, raising an eyebrow in the rearview mirror.

“like… i dunno, all shy and weird,” megumi huffed, his brows furrowing in confusion. “like when the kids at school talk about people who like each other.”

your cheeks were definitely heating up, and you could tell toji was trying not to laugh.

“sometimes people just… act like that when they’re really comfortable,” toji explained, trying to sound nonchalant. “not everything’s like it is on tv.”

“oh,” megumi said, though he didn’t look totally convinced. 

“soooo, when are you guys gonna have a playdate without me?”

“what?” you and toji both burst out at the same time, while megumi just grinned, proud of himself for catching you both off guard.

“you two look like you want more playdates,,” he added with a shrug, like he was the expert on the subject.

toji shook his head, laughing under his breath. “how about you let the adults figure that out, hm?”

“fine, fine,” megumi said, obviously pleased with himself. “but i wanna know when you guys have another playdate, ‘kay?”

you patted his shoulder, chuckling. “deal, kiddo. you’ll be the first to know.”

as toji pulled out onto the street, you settled back, sharing an amused look with him in the mirror. and as megumi continued his non-stop chatter about school, dinosaurs, and how he wanted both of you to come to his next soccer game, you felt that fuzzy feeling again — the same one from last night. maybe having these two around wasn’t so bad at all.

toji pulled up to his house, shifting into park before a sudden realization hit him like a freight train — you were still along for the ride. it was supposed to be a quick pickup, maybe a casual goodbye once megumi was dropped off, but here you were, in the passenger seat, smiling as megumi practically buzzed with excitement beside you.

"uh… so… yeah, this is… my place,” he said, scratching the back of his head, feeling uncharacteristically awkward. he wasn’t sure if he should invite you in or just wave goodbye with some half-baked excuse. 

but before he could even finish his internal debate, megumi had his own plans.

“that means you can come see my room!” megumi exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he threw open the door and scrambled out of the car.

“oh, i don’t wanna intrude —” you started, already moving to say goodbye, but megumi was way ahead, bounding up the steps and glancing back with an impatient wave.

“c’mon!” he insisted, practically dancing in place with excitement. “you gotta see my plushies and my legos! oh, and my origami stuff, and —”

toji opened the front door, and as soon as you were inside, megumi was by your side again, tugging at your hand with a grip surprisingly strong for a kid. “you gotta see everything!” he said, eyes gleaming.

“okay, okay!” you laughed, letting him lead the way.

toji watched, a little dumbfounded. he’d seen megumi excited before, sure, but this was a whole new level. “hey, uh, megs, maybe she’s tired. we don’t wanna overwhelm her, y’know?” he said, trying to sound casual and almost hoping you’d back out to save him from his own nerves.

“no way!” megumi protested, his voice emphatic. “she’s gotta see my dinos and my race cars and my drawings too! pleaseeee?”

“don’t worry, i think i can handle it,” you chuckled, shooting toji a reassuring look. 

he let out a sigh, feeling a mix of relief and… something else he really didn’t wanna unpack at the moment.

megumi practically dragged you down the hall toward what toji modestly called his “suite,” which was more like a sprawling kid paradise decked out in a swanky setup. it was undeniably luxurious — the kind of suite most people would call their whole apartment — but it was still a kid’s space through and through. plushies lay scattered around in a trail leading to the bedroom, where legos, crayons, toy cars, and origami creations decorated the floor in random bursts of color. every available surface was covered in megumi’s little projects and treasures.

“wow, megumi, you weren’t kidding!” you said, genuinely impressed. you walked over to a group of origami animals on his desk. “did you make all of these?”

“yep!” he puffed up his chest with pride, holding up a particularly crumpled paper crane. “this one’s my favorite. it didn’t come out great, but it’s special ‘cause daddy helped me with it.”

toji felt a funny warmth spread through his chest. he tried to brush it off, but it was hard to ignore seeing the two of you in his home, talking like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“and here’s mr. wiggles!” megumi said, suddenly pulling over a massive, well-loved teddy bear that looked like it’d been through a hundred battles. “daddy got him for me when i was little.”

“mr. wiggles is a great name,” you laughed, crouching down to inspect the bear. “i bet he’s been on a lot of adventures with you.”

“yeah, he’s been to the doctor with me, and the dentist, and he helps me with my homework sometimes,” megumi explained with the seriousness only an eight-year-old could muster.

toji chuckled, folding his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “he’s a busy bear, huh?”

“super busy,” megumi agreed, pulling you over to his lego city next. 

“this is where the ninjas live, and over here’s where the dinosaurs hide.”

“oh, and here i thought ninjas and dinos couldn’t get along,” you teased, glancing over at toji, who was doing a poor job at hiding his amusement. “you must be the peacekeeper, megumi.”

“i am!” he laughed, then suddenly looked up at toji. 

“daddy, can she stay for dinner?”

toji’s eyes widened slightly. he hadn’t even considered dinner yet.

but the thought of you here, in his space, a part of his evening routine with megumi… it felt way too good to resist.

“uh, well, if she’s got the time,” he mumbled, scratching his neck and pretending to be cool about it. “you don’t gotta stick around if you got other things.”

“actually, i’d love to stay, if that’s okay?” you said, glancing between them both.

toji tried to act casual, even though his heart was doing a little victory lap. “yeah, sure. why not?”

“yes!” megumi cheered, already running out the door. “i’ll get the table ready!”

“is he… always this excited?” you asked, turning to toji with a chuckle.

“not usually,” toji admitted, scratching the back of his head. “guess you got that effect on him.”

the three of you settled around the table, megumi proudly munching away on his ironman-themed plate, the red and gold colors a little faded from years of use. he shot you a grin, already halfway through explaining ironman’s latest mission to save the world… for the third time.

toji, meanwhile, sat across from you, feeling inexplicably fidgety as he set down the fine china he’d pulled from the back of a cabinet. he'd dusted off every inch of those plates — his mind still spinning with why he even bothered. 

he wasn’t usually one for this kind of thing, but when he saw how carefully you ladled the stew into the bowls, he couldn’t help but notice you gave that same care to megumi too, nodding along as he chattered away about his superhero theories.

“you know, daddy never gets the cool plates out for anyone else,” megumi piped up, completely oblivious to the faint flush creeping up his dad’s face.

“oh really?” you chuckled, raising an eyebrow in toji’s direction. “well, i feel honored then. i’ll try not to drop it.”

toji groaned internally, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “kid’s got a big mouth,” he muttered, shooting megumi a faux warning look, though his own ears were burning.

“you’ve got good taste, though,” you teased him lightly, glancing down at the pristine white china with intricate blue patterns.

“yeah, well… s’just plates. they’re old,” toji shrugged, hoping that downplaying it would erase any significance you might read into the whole situation.

“old but pretty,” you said, not looking up as you ladled some stew for megumi, who was eagerly waiting with his bowl stretched out. “here you go, megumi. i made it a little less spicy for you, just like you asked.”

megumi’s eyes sparkled as he accepted the bowl. “thanks! you make the best stew!”

toji watched as you smiled back at megumi, completely absorbed in whatever he was babbling about, offering little “uh-huhs” and “reallys” as he animatedly described his favorite ironman scene. watching you like this, giving his kid your full attention even while busy in the kitchen, felt so… weird. 

like something he didn’t realize was missing, but now that it was there, he couldn’t imagine going without it.

“and then ironman totally blasts the villain’s robot suit — kaboom!” megumi finished, flinging his arms wide as if to demonstrate the explosion.

“kaboom, huh?” you laughed, sitting back in your chair, clearly enjoying his enthusiasm. “sounds intense.”

“yeah! ironman doesn’t mess around,” megumi said with a sage nod, as if passing on some universal wisdom. “but he’s gotta protect everyone, even the people who don’t like him.”

“sounds like a pretty cool guy,” you mused, glancing over at toji with a small smile. “maybe you two have something in common.”

“oh, god,” toji groaned, but he couldn’t fight the smirk that tugged at his lips. “don’t give him ideas, he’ll think i’m gonna go fight crime or somethin’.”

“wouldn’t that be so cool?” megumi interjected, eyes sparkling. “you could be like… iron dad!”

toji rolled his eyes, but he caught the look on your face — amused, warm, like you were seeing a side of him that no one else really noticed. 

and for some reason, that was way too close to the truth for comfort. 

he cleared his throat, glancing down at his stew to avoid meeting your gaze.

“maybe i’ll just stick to keeping this kid in one piece,” toji muttered, but his heart was beating a little faster than usual.

and as megumi kept up his enthusiastic rambling, it all started to feel too cozy, too right. the clinking of plates, the soft warmth in the air, the way you didn’t rush megumi but let him take center stage as he shared his endless thoughts — it all blended together into something that felt like home, even if toji wouldn’t dare say it out loud.

as you reached for another spoonful of stew, listening intently to megumi’s latest story about his lego creations, toji realized that, yeah… this felt pretty damn right.

megumi clutched his book eagerly, eyes shining as he snuggled into bed, clearly over the moon that you’d agreed to stay for his bedtime story. he gave toji a serious look, announcing, “since daddy can’t do girl voices — cuz he’s a voicing actor, but he’s not that good — you gotta help with the girl lines, okay?”

“oh, yeah?” toji shot him a mock glare. “that’s a pretty big request, squirt. you sure i can’t just, y’know, growl like a tiger or something?”

megumi shook his head, adamant. “nope! you’re supposed to be the bear prince, and she’s the bunny princess! and then they meet at the river — just read, daddy.”

toji rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t hide the faint smile as he settled in beside megumi, 

taking the book from his son’s hands. “alright, alright, let’s do this right. bunny princess and bear prince — sounds about as weird as it gets, but we’ll make it work.”

with megumi sandwiched between the two of you, you leaned over to see the page. 

“the bunny princess hopped through the forest, searching for her friend, the bear prince, who was known for his wisdom and strength,” you read in a soft voice, giving it your best princess tone.

megumi nodded, satisfied. “much better than uncle gojo,” he whispered to you in a conspiratorial tone, “his princess voice is just… weird.”

toji stifled a snicker, picking up the next line. 

“the bear prince, with his deep, growly voice, stepped out from behind the tree, saying, ‘i hear you’re lookin’ for a friend. well, look no further.’”

megumi giggled, clutching the blanket as he looked up at toji in admiration. “now that’s a good bear voice, daddy! you don’t gotta growl or nothing.”

you shot toji a playful look. “see? you’re already halfway to voice actor stardom.”

“sure, sure, as long as i don’t have to wear princess crowns, i think i’ll survive,” he smirked, giving the book back to you to read the bunny’s next line.

“‘oh, bear prince, i’m so happy to see you!’ the bunny princess chirped, hopping closer. ‘the forest feels so safe with you here.’”

toji took his turn, grinning. 

“‘that’s right, princess. stick close to me, and nothing can harm you — not even that pesky fox from the riverbank.’”

megumi, eyes already starting to droop, nodded in sage approval, mumbling, “bears are super strong…”

as the story unfolded, with each of you taking on your character’s lines, you couldn’t help but notice how megumi’s little body relaxed more and more, eyelids growing heavier as he listened to the tale of the bunny princess and bear prince’s forest adventure.

 finally, after you’d read the line where the bunny and bear bid each other goodnight under the stars, you heard megumi’s soft, even breathing.

you and toji shared a glance, both of you lowering your voices.

“looks like our audience conked out before the big finale,” you whispered with a smile, your voice barely above a murmur.

“heh,” toji chuckled, glancing at his son’s sleeping face. “usually he stays up longer, keeps asking for more.” he paused, watching you with a look that seemed to say more than his words. “maybe he’s just got a soft spot for princess voices… or maybe, you know, a good storyteller.”

a soft warmth settled in the quiet room, the gentle rise and fall of megumi’s breathing filling the space as you both stayed still for a moment, neither wanting to break the spell.

you stood up slowly from megumi’s bed, glancing down at the little guy, still out cold, his mouth slightly open as he clutched his iron man plush. the clock on the wall blinked “9:00 pm,” and your stomach sank a little — hadn’t you meant to leave hours ago? 

but when you made a quiet move toward the door, toji was right there, leaning in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets.

“you, uh, really don’t have to rush,” he said, almost nonchalant, though his gaze flicked over to megumi. “i mean, for his sake, y’know. wouldn’t want him freaking out if he wakes up in the middle of the night and you’re gone…”

“oh, of course,” you murmured, feeling a warm, slightly strange fluttering sensation at his words. 

“just… so he doesn’t get scared. yeah.”

you glanced down at yourself. god, what were you going to sleep in? your work clothes? 

toji seemed to read your mind, though, tilting his head a bit. “i think i got some old clothes you could wear if you want,” he offered, looking you up and down with that calm, appraising look that made you feel like he saw a bit more than he let on. “not the most fashionable, but they’re clean.”

“thanks, that’d be great,” you said, offering a small smile, and you turned to head toward the door to the guest room — then stopped. “wait… i think i left my phone on his nightstand.”

before you could overthink it, you turned back abruptly, intending to slip past toji back into megumi’s room. 

but somehow, in the dim lighting, the narrow doorway, the warmth of the moment… your face collided with his chest, and then, your lips met his, soft and sudden and all-consuming.

for a heartbeat, everything else fell away: the gentle ticking of the clock, the faint whirring of the a/c, even the warmth of megumi’s room. 

you felt nothing but the weight of toji’s lips against yours, the subtle intake of his breath as he seemed to register just what was happening. there was a moment of hesitation, and then his hand instinctively moved to your waist, pulling you closer with a soft, undeniable insistence.

his voice was a low whisper, barely more than a breath between you. “so… you were just gonna leave without even saying goodbye?”

for a split second, everything froze — the dim hallway, the soft, ambient sounds of the house, the fact that you were standing right outside megumi’s door, where one sleepy sound could catch you both. 

but that one breath against toji’s lips, so close, melted everything else away.

he didn’t pull back; if anything, his hold on your waist only tightened, fingers pressing just enough to send a warm ripple up your spine. his eyes met yours, slightly wide, as if he couldn’t quite believe he had you like this, so close. you could almost feel his heartbeat thrumming in sync with your own, and you let out a shaky breath, your lips brushing his again.

“this… is not what i planned when i came over,” you murmured, barely able to get the words out as your forehead touched his. “not — not in front of your kid’s room.”

“mm,” he whispered, gaze dropping to your lips, that barely-there smirk flickering across his face, “it’s a first for me too.” he held your gaze, his expression softening, something almost tender in his eyes as he raised his hand to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. 

“but if you wanted to leave… you would’ve pulled away by now.”

you bit your lip at the way his thumb lingered on your cheek, his breath warm against your skin, and before you knew it, your lips found his again. this time, it was slower, unhurried, like you had all the time in the world to feel the way his mouth moved against yours, soft and then a little firmer, as he seemed to lose himself in the moment.

he leaned into you, pressing you just slightly against the wall, his hand sliding from your waist up to the small of your back, drawing you close. the quiet was filled only with the shared breaths between you two, a quiet hum that passed between your lips, as if even the smallest sound might wake megumi just on the other side of the wall.

you found your hand on his chest, fingers curling in his shirt, pulling him a little closer, wanting to deepen the kiss even though every bit of common sense told you to stop. his lips parted, pressing small, lingering kisses along your lower lip, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your back as though he was trying to savor every second. you were barely breathing, lost in the warmth of him, feeling him melt just a little against you.

“god, you’re making it hard to stop,” he murmured against your lips, his voice almost a growl but so quiet it barely even registered.

“i don’t think i want to,” you whispered back, eyes meeting his in the dim light. he held your gaze, his thumb tracing a soft line along your cheek, but he didn’t move away, staying close, his nose brushing yours in a way that was so tender you almost forgot how precarious this was.

you both laughed quietly, the sound soft and low, the kind of laugh that was more of a breath shared between you. toji glanced back at megumi’s door, and for a second, his face softened in a way you rarely saw, as if he couldn’t help but feel this moment was just a little forbidden.

“maybe we should… try this somewhere a little less dangerous,” he muttered, though he didn’t make any move to let go, his gaze flicking back to yours.

“you mean… like a first date or something?” you murmured, lips curling into a soft smile.

“guess i don’t mind a second kiss either,” he replied, brushing his lips against yours one last time before stepping back, the space between you suddenly feeling too cold, too quiet.

as he stepped back, the reality of the hallway — the very literal door to his son’s room right beside you — set in, but the warmth still lingered, and the smile he gave you as he walked you down the hall felt like a promise for something more, something you both couldn’t wait to explore.

the “boys night” at gojo-sonic’s swanky office was nothing short of its usual absurdity, with gojo dubbing it the “greatest tradition ever” as he practically threw around the “finest” sweet alcohol like it was candy. 

toji was there, albeit begrudgingly, mostly due to gojo’s persistence (“c’mon, you’re the only one who knows how to enjoy this premium stuff!”), and suguru joined from a dimly-lit zoom window, his face half-smiling, half-tired as he sipped on a glass of his own.

“missing out, suguru,” gojo teased, tilting back his drink. “oh, but thanks for the wine, by the way. nothing says ‘wish i were there’ like sending over a box of booze from you and your business partner.”

“oh, for heaven’s sake,” suguru muttered, though his smirk suggested he didn’t mind. “it was a halloween release. figured it’d keep you all happy and…unbearable.”

toji chuckled, swirling his glass and trying not to roll his eyes as gojo feigned offense.

“unbearable? me?” gojo put a hand over his heart. “if you actually joined us in person, you’d see i’m the highlight of this ‘boys night.’ it’s practically a public service, sugu-boo. oh, and shoutout to persephone for making it possible, of course.”

“yeah, yeah, you’re a real gift to mankind,” suguru replied, his tone deadpan, but his smile lingered as he took a sip. 

“so what’re you boys talking about? since i can’t be there to hear it firsthand.”

toji shifted, debating on whether or not he wanted to launch into the mess that had been swirling in his head all week. but with the alcohol settling in and gojo’s usual chatter as encouragement, it was hard to hold back. he sighed, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair, looking anywhere but the screen.

“oh, just, y’know… kid stuff.”

gojo raised a brow. “kid stuff? you mean, how megumi’s practically obsessed with y/n?”

“please,” toji groaned, rubbing his temple. “that kid’s dragging her around like she’s his second parent.”

“sounds like he’s got good taste,” suguru noted with a grin, sipping his wine. “and from what you said last week, he’s already planning on keeping her around for life, huh?”

toji shot him a look through the screen, but he knew they were right. megumi was over the moon whenever you came around, from showing off every little toy he owned to making you part of bedtime stories. 

it was adorable, sure, but it made this whole situation way more… intense than he’d signed up for.

“kid talks about her all the time,” toji admitted, swirling his glass again. “like, even his teachers thought she was his mom or something. and she…well, she’s good with him. she’s damn good.” he looked down, a smirk tugging at his lips. “which, believe it or not, i didn’t expect when we first met.”

“ohhh?” gojo leaned in, that smirk of his spreading as he raised a brow. “and you? what did you expect?”

toji glanced away, that hint of a smirk still there, despite himself. “don’t make me say it.”

“oh, we’re making you say it,” gojo teased, sliding another drink his way. “so, you’re saying she’s…wife material?”

suguru nearly choked on his drink, and the way he was watching toji from the screen made it clear he wasn’t missing a second of this.

toji scoffed, taking a gulp to keep from saying anything too embarrassing. “she’s… special. hell, i didn’t plan on getting attached, and yet —” he paused, chuckling almost self-consciously. “i feel like a damn teenager.”

“and here i thought you were the king of nonchalance,” suguru teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” toji muttered, trying to shake it off. 

but the truth was, the second he was alone, he found himself thinking about you, about the way megumi’s face lit up when you were around, the way you just… fit into their little world without even trying. 

it was surreal. 

the damn wine probably didn’t help, either.

gojo slapped him on the back, clearly enjoying this way too much. “well, for what it’s worth,” he said, his voice surprisingly sincere, “megumi deserves someone good. and maybe you do too.”

toji rolled his eyes, but he didn’t bother denying it. if anything, he felt the tiniest glimmer of hope. 

that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t screw this one up.

gojo snickered, his smirk all-knowing as he raised his glass. “i’ve got it,” he said with way too much enthusiasm, the kind he only had when he was on the brink of embarrassing the hell out of someone. “toji, you and y/n could do a joint wedding with suguru and his ‘business partner.’ i mean, if suguru grows a spine and confesses, that is.”

on the other end of the zoom call, suguru’s smirk vanished as fast as it appeared, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair. “not happening,” he muttered, all but glaring at the screen. “it’s… complicated.”

gojo pouted, tilting his head in mock sympathy. “oh, come on. ‘complicated’? it’s not that deep. just throw her some wine, flash that tragic backstory, and she’ll be yours in no time.”

“it’s not that simple,” suguru snapped, though his face softened as he leaned back, sighing. 

“besides, we’re in… limbo, i guess. we’ve had our confessions, but there’s no label. not yet, anyway.”

“awww,” gojo teased, his voice dripping with feigned sympathy. 

“look at us! a bunch of grown men, all hung up on love troubles. what happened to the days when it was just work, money, and some good old-fashioned ego trips?”

“those days are over,” toji grunted, crossing his arms as he glanced at the screen. “but you’d know a thing or two about those ‘ego trips,’ wouldn’t you?”

suguru let out a snort of laughter, finally letting himself relax a little. “and don’t forget ryomen sukuna,” he added, the name alone making everyone groan. “that bastard practically swooped in to turn our business lives upside down and make everything more… interesting. joint venture or not, the guy’s insufferable. he’s like a cat, always hissing and scratching his way to the top.”

gojo laughed, tipping his drink toward the screen. “tell me about it. it’s like everyone has a thorn in their side when it comes to love these days.” 

he smirked, nudging toji. “and you, my friend, are no exception. so when’s the confession, huh? are we waiting on some fairytale moment here?”

toji rolled his eyes, swirling the last of his drink. “i’m not confessing to anyone,” he grumbled. “i’ve got megumi to think about.”

“right, right, megumi,” gojo said, drawing out the name with a grin that was anything but innocent. “and here i thought you liked y/n for yourself.”

“and here i thought you’d shut up at some point tonight,” toji shot back, but his lips betrayed him with a faint, reluctant smirk.

suguru leaned forward, his voice softer. “well, at least megumi’s happy with her around, right? maybe… it’s worth taking a chance.”

toji’s smirk faded, his expression thoughtful. “maybe.”

“see?” gojo beamed, practically giddy. “love is in the air, boys. even for the most stubborn among us.”

suguru shook his head, a smile creeping back onto his face. “well, here’s to complicated feelings and maybe, just maybe, getting them right someday.”

they all raised their glasses, clinking to their shared madness in work, love, and everything in between.

you flopped back on your bed, barely able to keep the grin off your face as you hit the facetime button for shoko. she picked up after a few rings, a cigarette lazily dangling from her fingers, eyebrows raised as she took in your expression.

“uh-oh. what’s got you looking like that?” she asked, smirking.

you let out a giddy little laugh, immediately burying your face in your hands. “shoko, i swear i’m losing it. i’m a grown woman, but i feel like a teenager. it’s embarrassing.”

“this better be good,” she drawled, putting the cigarette to her lips and leaning back, looking every bit the part of the unimpressed but totally-invested best friend.

“okay, okay,” you said, voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. “toji kissed me. twice — by accident, both times. twice, shoko!”

she let out a low whistle, blowing out a plume of smoke. “so the ‘brooding single dad’ finally made his move, huh? you know, twice starts to sound less like an accident and more like he’s got a thing for you.”

you laughed, covering your face with your hands. “oh my god, don’t say that! i can’t even handle it. and he’s just… so close all the time. it’s like every time i turn around, he’s there.”

“that sounds terrible,” she said, rolling her eyes in mock sympathy. “a tall, ridiculously hot single dad, right up in your personal space. how are you surviving?”

you groaned, flopping back dramatically. “it’s not just that! i mean, megumi’s there too, and he’s the cutest kid. he loves me, shoko, i’m actually losing my mind. i feel like i’m part of their lives, and it’s… weirdly nice?”

shoko’s smirk softened a little, her gaze warmer. “sounds like you’re finally finding something real,” she murmured, her voice thoughtful. “i mean, not just with toji, but… you know, with people. gojo insisted you needed someone to keep you on track, but honestly, it sounds like you’re just finding your own way.”

“thank you for not thinking i’m insane,” you muttered, grinning at her.

“please, i’ve been waiting for something juicy like this to pop up in your life,” she replied, flicking some ash into an ashtray with a smirk. “so tell me everything — i want the full rundown on these ‘accidental’ kisses.”

you launched into the details, recounting the flustered stammering, the way you could hardly breathe when he got that close, how you felt like you were in some kind of slow-motion rom-com. shoko didn’t bat an eye, laughing in all the right places, raising her eyebrows at the moments you whispered, and shaking her head whenever you sounded downright ridiculous.

“y’know,” she finally said as you caught your breath, “if this is what being your manager is gonna be like, i might just be here for it. international author and all,” she teased, quoting gojo.

“i’m just glad i have someone who gets it,” you admitted, voice softer. “this is all new to me… the book success, this... love life thing.”

she gave you a small, knowing smile. “well, get used to it. sounds like there’s a lot more coming your way.”

the month flew by in a series of stolen moments that made you feel like you were the protagonist in one of your own novels. 

and, true to his nature, toji somehow managed to sneak in a kiss (or two, or three, but who's counting?) whenever he found you alone at the studio, away from gojo's incessant commentary, the other voice actors, and the wandering eyes of your new manager, shoko ieiri.

you still couldn’t forget that first almost subtle kiss, right outside the recording booth. 

you’d just handed him his revised lines, trying to ignore the way his fingers brushed against yours as he took the pages.

“y’know, you keep handing me all these steamy lines,” he murmured, voice dropping, his mouth way too close to your ear. “someone might think you’re just giving me an excuse.”

“i-it’s for the story,” you stammered, and before you could process it, he leaned down, catching you in a quick, teasing kiss.

“mm. very convincing.” he smirked, straightening just as someone walked by.

“toji!” you hissed, glancing around like a guilty teenager.

“what? i thought it’d help with the performance.” he gave you a half-shrug, that lazy grin of his making your pulse jump. “gotta sell the romance, right?”

then there was the time in the elevator after one of his late recording sessions. you’d been babbling about something mundane, trying to fill the quiet, but he wasn’t paying attention to your words; instead, he just watched your mouth. 

before you knew it, the doors slid closed, and he had you pressed against the mirrored wall, his mouth on yours, hands braced on either side of your head.

“you know,” you whispered breathlessly when you finally broke apart, “if shoko sees us, she’s gonna kill me.”

“good thing we’re alone then,” he murmured, not bothering to step back, his eyes dropping to your lips. “wouldn’t want her thinking you’re getting… distracted on the job.”

“me?” you managed, swallowing a laugh. “you’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself!”

“maybe i’ll try harder,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your jaw in a way that felt anything but apologetic. “or maybe i won’t.”

of course, he didn’t. 

the next week, you’d been huddled over a script in the empty break room, reviewing edits from gojo. you barely heard him come in before he slipped up behind you, one hand casually planted on the table as he leaned over your shoulder.

“need any help with those lines?” he asked, voice low, right against your ear.

you barely suppressed a shiver, trying to focus on the paper in your hands. “i, uh… no. no, i think i’ve got it.”

“you sure?” he murmured, lips grazing your ear this time. “because i think i could add a little… flair.”

you turned, and his face was right there, too close to pretend this was anything but what it was. 

before you could tell him off, he closed the gap, kissing you slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world.

“toji,” you finally managed, pulling away, your face burning. “we are at work!”

he shrugged, utterly unbothered. “yeah, but no one’s around, are they?”

you glared, trying to look serious, but he just leaned back, smirking. “besides, i’d say that counts as research.”

“research?”

he grinned, eyes twinkling with a playful light. “gotta stay in character, right?”

every encounter was a tug-of-war between professionalism and… whatever this was. you couldn’t deny you looked forward to the thrill of these secret kisses, even though you spent half your day looking over your shoulder, waiting for shoko to round a corner and catch you in the act.

toji, on the other hand, was infuriatingly nonchalant. like he didn’t care if anyone saw — like he almost wanted to be caught. and he never missed an opportunity to remind you of that.

“so, what’ll it be?” he asked one afternoon as you tried to dodge his latest attempt in the hallway. “you gonna keep hiding from me? or are you finally gonna admit you like it?”

“i’m not hiding,” you replied, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks.

he laughed softly, the sound low and warm. “you’re a terrible liar.”

just then, footsteps echoed from around the corner. you froze, but toji just gave you one last teasing look and walked off, as if nothing had happened.

and maybe that was the worst part — no matter how many times he pulled you in, kissed you breathless, he could just walk away, leaving you wondering if you’d imagined it all.

toji fushiguro, love-struck fool of the century. 

and he hated it. 

he’d scoffed his way through plenty of rom-coms, rolling his eyes at any lovesick protagonist with that stupid, half-dazed smile, lips still parted like they’d just been kissed breathless. 

he never thought he’d be one of them. yet here he was, pacing around his apartment, occasionally touching his lips like some starry-eyed teenager.

“you’re acting like a damn idiot,” he muttered to himself, brushing a hand through his hair, but even that couldn’t erase the lovesick grin creeping onto his face. he barely noticed his phone buzzing with the weekly roster of sugar mamas and daddies, all waiting for their weekly breadcrumb texts from him. hell, he even felt guilty about it now. 

because compared to you? they didn’t stand a chance.

case in point: a text popped up from mona, the one who liked to send him extravagant gifts just for existing.

mona [7:40 pm]: missed u this week. dinner on friday, baby?

toji squinted at the message, thumb hovering over the keyboard, debating if he should even respond. yeah, he probably should. he sighed, cracking his knuckles before halfheartedly typing out a response.

you [7:45 pm]: kinda busy friday. rain check?

there. short and sweet. 

in a past life, he would’ve at least flirted his way out of it. 

but now? he couldn’t muster up anything more. 

god, you’ve got it bad, he thought, half-annoyed at himself as he imagined the smirk gojo would throw his way if he ever found out about this pathetic show of loyalty.

and speaking of the devil —

“toooji!” gojo sang as he slid into the studio the next day, obnoxiously loud.

“man, you’ve been… awfully serious lately. not a single call from mona? or was it alicia? both?”

toji barely glanced up, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. “i’ve been busy. work.”

“work,” gojo echoed, eyes narrowing with a knowing gleam. “right. and what kind of work are we talking about? the kind that comes with a certain… author’s name attached?”

toji’s lip twitched, but he ignored him. he figured the less he reacted, the less ammo gojo would have.

“oh, come on!” gojo crowed, leaning over the soundboard with an irritating grin. “you really think i haven’t noticed? the lingering looks, the way you sneak off for like ten minutes every time she’s around. you’re a mess, toji.”

toji rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “i’m not a damn kid, satoru.”

“coulda fooled me,” gojo teased. “god, you look like you’re on the verge of a love confession every time i see you two. why not just go full rom-com mode and declare it in the rain or something?”

“shut your damn mouth,” toji muttered, feeling his ears heat. 

the idea had crossed his mind. he thought about it every damn time he saw you smile or catch his eye across the studio. 

and it was driving him insane.

“speaking of confessions,” gojo continued, not missing a beat, “heard you’ve been turning down… basically everyone these days. sugar mamas, sugar daddies — wow, your self-control’s really kicked in.”

toji groaned, half in frustration, half in something else. it was true. he hadn’t even looked at his inbox in days. 

just not interested, he’d told himself, ignoring how pathetic that sounded.

“oh, oh, oh, don’t tell me…” gojo grinned, the realization dawning on his face. “you’ve gone monogamous, haven’t you?” he snorted. 

“god, you’re whipped.”

“i’ll let you live if you shut up now.”

gojo snickered, unbothered. “what? i’m just giving you some friendly advice, toji. tell her already. do the whole romantic declaration thing. maybe some roses. oh, or better yet, just kiss her the way you keep fantasizing about.”

toji rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “fantasizing, right.”

“admit it, you’re lovesick,” gojo replied with a smirk. “how’s that feel, big guy?”

just then, his phone buzzed again, and he glanced down to see a new message from larry, one of his sugar daddies.

larry: fancy a weekend trip? all expenses on me, baby ;)

toji groaned and quickly sent back a “no thanks, busy,” before slipping his phone away. he looked up to find gojo staring at him, practically vibrating with amusement.

“see? whipped!” gojo announced, loud enough for half the floor to hear.

“keep it down,” toji growled, but he couldn’t keep the ghost of a smile off his face. he knew gojo was right, even if he hated admitting it. he was done pretending it wasn’t true. 

hell, he could barely go an hour without wanting to text you, wanting to see you.

“you don’t get it,” toji said, more to himself than gojo. “she’s… different.”

“oh, i bet she is,” gojo said, nodding like he understood. “now, are you gonna be an idiot and keep pouting like you’ve got something to say? or are you gonna tell her?”

toji didn’t answer, just glared at him before heading for the studio door. but he knew gojo was right. 

he’d run out of excuses, out of distractions. maybe it was time he did something about this ridiculous crush.

as he walked out, he could practically hear gojo’s smirk follow him. 

great.

toji could barely keep his heart from jumping out of his chest as he slipped the little origami ring into your hand, all smooth-like, muttering, “megumi made it for you.” 

but even as he said it, he could feel the heat creeping up his neck, knowing damn well it was mostly his work.

he’d sat down with megumi, who, after a long day of being “helpful,” had finally agreed to show him how to fold paper into something that resembled a ring. and it hadn’t exactly been easy.

“so, kiddo,” toji had started, fidgeting with the corner of a bright blue square of paper. “think you can show me how to, uh… fold this thing into a ring? for… you know… someone.”

megumi squinted up at him, hands on his hips like a pint-sized supervisor. “for her, right?”

toji cleared his throat, looking away. “yeah. something like that.”

megumi snorted, already getting a bit too wise for his age. “you don’t even know how to fold paper, daddy?”

toji groaned. “it’s harder than it looks, alright? just show me how you do it.”

the kid just shook his head, exasperated, but started showing him each fold with careful, precise fingers. they worked through a couple attempts, most of which looked nothing like rings and ended up in the growing pile of crumpled paper on the table. 

it was late, and toji couldn’t remember the last time he’d concentrated this hard on something so… simple. why the hell am i doing this? he thought, glancing at the clock. 

he had work in a few hours, a whole recording schedule to plan for, and yet here he was, folding paper with his son.

“think she’ll like it?” toji asked, holding up one of the finished attempts.

megumi shrugged, but he looked oddly serious as he studied the makeshift ring. “i think she will. ‘cause it’s from you.”

something in toji’s chest squeezed at that, and he clapped a hand on megumi’s shoulder. “don’t go telling anyone about this, alright? not even your uncle gojo. especially not him.”

“why?” megumi asked, genuinely curious.

“because he’ll never let me hear the end of it,” toji muttered, trying to ignore how ridiculous he sounded even to himself. 

yeah, making a paper ring at one in the morning for someone? absolutely insane, but he couldn’t shake the thrill of it, of imagining you smiling when he handed it over.

so, fast-forward to now: the ring was in your hand, your fingers slowly unfolding to reveal it. you glanced up at him, eyes soft with a mix of confusion and surprise, and damn if he didn’t feel his heart do a backflip right then and there.

“he… made this for me?” you asked, voice quiet, almost disbelieving.

“yeah,” toji replied, trying to sound casual but failing spectacularly. “thought you’d like it.” 

he rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the urge to look anywhere but at you, but he couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at your reaction.

you turned the ring over in your hand, a small smile tugging at your lips. “you sure it was megumi who made this?”

his throat went dry. “uh… mostly,” he admitted, feeling that warmth creeping up his neck again. “i might’ve… helped a little.”

“a little, huh?” you teased, eyes sparkling as you slipped the ring onto your finger. “so, is this, like… an official thing now? sealing the deal or whatever?”

toji felt his mouth go dry, a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through him. 

he hadn’t planned on this meaning anything official — well, maybe he had, but he hadn’t exactly thought it through. 

yet seeing you wearing it, even if it was just a silly piece of folded paper, felt… right.

he shrugged, trying to keep his voice steady. “just thought you deserved somethin’ nice,” he said gruffly. “even if it’s… you know, paper.”

your fingers brushed his, a soft, barely-there touch, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. “i think it’s perfect, toji. no one’s ever… done something like this for me before.”

he felt his chest tighten, the weight of everything he wanted to say pressing against his ribcage. 

all those dumb, sappy things he’d been feeling lately, the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way he felt like a lovesick idiot every time you smiled at him. but he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it, not yet. 

so instead, he settled for squeezing your hand, his thumb tracing a soft circle over your knuckles.

“good,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “’cause i don’t think i could stand it if you didn’t like it.”

you laughed softly, leaning into him, and he swore he felt the world narrow down to just the two of you, the faint rustle of the paper ring against your finger.

“guess i’ll have to keep it safe then, huh?” you murmured, looking up at him with that smile that made his heart do all kinds of dumb things.

“yeah,” he replied, voice low, unable to stop himself from leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “yeah, you do.”

toji’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when he spots you at the office, that damn paper ring dangling from your phone charm. his paper ring — okay, technically megumi’s paper ring, but still, the one he’d folded with his own hands. he’d thought you might just tuck it away in a drawer or something. 

but here you were, letting it swing around proudly like some priceless gem. he’s not gonna lie — his heart just about catapults itself out of his chest.

he’s doing his best to keep his cool, but the urge to grab you right then and there, haul you over to a quiet corner, and ask you out on a real date feels stronger than ever. propose even. 

god, if he wasn’t too far gone already.

“what’s that little add-on?” gojo’s smug voice cuts through the air, and you laugh, holding up your phone so the charm dangles freely. gojo squints, pretending he’s inspecting it, but there’s a glint in his eye. “who’s the secret admirer, huh? must be a serious romantic to give you something… hand-crafted.”

you shrug, grinning a little too wide. “oh, just… something someone special made for me.”

toji’s face heats up, and he tries to look busy adjusting his microphone levels. 

dammit, did you have to say it like that? he catches gojo’s gaze lingering on him, eyebrows raised. 

oh, he’s got an idea all right.

“hm, special someone?” gojo teases, nudging you, then pretending to look around the room as if your admirer might jump out from behind the studio wall. “wonder who that could be, huh?”

you shrug, pretending like it’s nothing, though you shoot a sly glance in toji’s direction. “maybe he’ll make a move someday. he’s pretty bold but… you know, takes his time.”

toji’s pulse hammers away like a damn drumline, and he clears his throat, trying to sound nonchalant. “yeah, maybe he’s just… tryin’ to find the right time or somethin’.”

“aww,” gojo coos, looking between you and toji with a mischievous smile. “poor guy. wonder if he knows he’s got competition. think he can handle it?”

toji rolls his eyes, shooting gojo a glare. “ain’t nobody competin’,” he says, voice low but firm. “whoever this guy is… he’s got it handled.”

you laugh softly, the sound filling the room, and you hold up the charm, letting it dangle right in front of him as if it’s some sort of challenge. “think he’s ready to seal the deal?”

toji’s gaze flickers to the paper ring, then to you, and suddenly he feels this overwhelming urge to just… go for it. 

he could give you a real ring, sure, someday maybe, but there’s something about this little thing you’ve turned into a charm that makes it feel so much… bigger.

“actually…” he mutters, feeling heat crawl up his neck. “i was thinkin’… maybe i could take you out this weekend. just us.” he looks at you, eyes intent, and there’s a rare seriousness in his voice. “someplace nice. no studio, no interruptions.”

you blink, clearly a bit surprised, but your smile grows, softer now, almost shy. 

“are you asking me out, toji?”

he shrugs, feigning nonchalance but failing miserably. “yeah. maybe… maybe i am.” he reaches out, tugging the charm lightly, letting it dangle between you. “figured it was about time we took this thing seriously.”

gojo bursts into laughter, clapping his hands. “ohhh, i knew it! all this sneaking around, and here you are, finally getting down on one knee — metaphorically, of course.”

you nudge gojo, laughing. “shut it, satoru.”

but toji doesn’t even hear gojo’s teasing anymore. all he sees is you, with that damn paper ring swinging from your phone, smiling at him in a way that makes his chest feel tight. 

and suddenly, the idea of getting down on one knee doesn’t seem all that far-fetched after all.

“so… this weekend?” he asks, his voice a little softer now, just for you.

you nod, still beaming. “this weekend,” you confirm.

toji, scrolling through your message with a slight frown, reads your rain check about having to edit your book draft instead of going out this weekend. 

he's in the middle of what can only be called a hurricane of preparation — megumi is zipping around the house, declaring he’ll help his dad look “very handsome” for his “playdate with the pretty lady.” in the midst of this, toji can’t even get a word in to explain that, uh, the plans may be changing.

princess [7:08 pm]: hey! i am SO sorry, but i may have to rain check today. i really thought i’d finish up the first draft of the dragon king’s sequel. but i got so behind, and now i have to edit this whole thing </3 you [7:09 pm]: can’t believe my competition is a bunch of words on a page, but…i get it.  you [7:09 pm]: any chance you could still use some company for that “editing?”

he’s barely finished typing his message when megumi tugs at his shirt, holding up a navy button-down that practically drags on the floor.

“isn’t this the one she likes, dad? wear this!” he says with a look that might as well be called “fushiguro persuasion.” toji chuckles, ruffling megumi’s hair.

“hey, buddy,” he says, crouching down to megumi’s level. “plans changed a little. she’s gotta work, so i’m going over there instead, alright?”

megumi narrows his eyes in the way only an eight-year-old can. “so... no fancy date?”

“nah, kid,” toji says, trying to sound casual as he rolls up his sleeves. “i’m just gonna keep her company while she works.”

megumi grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “so like, a home date?” he asks, with all the implications an eight-year-old can muster.

toji chuckles, ruffling his son’s hair. “something like that.” he gives megumi a quick fist bump. “hold down the fort for me, alright? i’ll be back before bedtime.”

and with that, he heads out, his heart pounding just a little too fast for his own liking. he’s ready to face you with a low-key offer: if you’ll allow it, he’ll stay in for a “working date” and keep you company, just the two of you, with no plans other than being there.

toji ^.^ [7:15 pm]: well, what if the mountain comes to you instead of you coming to the mountain? i’ll bring snacks and stay out of your way. i’ll even help you proofread if you need it.

your heart nearly stops when you see toji’s message, and you almost drop your phone… straight into your bowl of instant noodles. 

he wants to come over? to your place? 

you glance around your apartment, and it’s a scene straight out of a disaster movie.

there’s a pile of bills stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, all of which you’re waiting for shoko to graciously come sort through for you. right next to it is a mountain of pr packages you haven’t had a chance to open — typewriters from some luxury brand, fountain pens with gold-tipped nibs, notebooks wrapped in satin, and… is that your favorite set of lingerie drying on top of the lampshade?

“oh, god.”

you glance at the time and frantically calculate: how long would it take to clear at least half of this mess? 

no, scratch that. how long would it take to get yourself presentable? you rush to your room, tossing things left and right in an attempt to find something clean and comfortable, feeling your face heat up just imagining toji seeing your place like this.

you [7:17 pm]: are you sure you wanna come over? i’m warning you. it’s, uh, very lived-in here. toji ^.^ [7:20 pm]: hey, i’m not gonna judge. besides, how bad can it be?

you stare at his reply, chewing on your lip, and quickly text back.

you [7:21 pm]: imagine a tornado hit a bookstore you [7:21 pm]: and a clothing store you [7:21 pm]: and, maybe a warehouse full of typewriters and fountain pens. toji ^.^ [7:23 pm]: you know what? sounds cozy. i’ll bring some snacks and maybe a cleaning crew if necessary 😂

the doorbell rings before you could even realise, and your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. 

you’ve got a solid three seconds to take it all in: you’re wearing a three-day-old shirt that, if you recall correctly, was originally your dad’s from the 80s, your hair’s in a bun so messy it might as well be a bird’s nest, and there are bags of trash you’ve hastily crammed into every drawer within reach.

there’s no hiding the pile of unopened pr packages by the couch, though — one of which has a half-torn label boasting a “vintage, limited-edition typewriter experience.” right next to that, there’s a fancy pen set, still in its plastic wrap, resting on top of… is that a stack of half-eaten takeout containers? 

oh, god. why couldn’t you have had a warning before he showed up?

you take a shaky breath and yank the door open, plastering a smile on your face as if this is all completely normal.

"hey," toji says, looking you up and down with an easy grin. “lookin’ cozy.”

“uh... thanks?” you blurt out, mentally slapping yourself. cozy was definitely one way to put it. 

“come on in. sorry about the… ambiance. i wasn’t really expecting to have a, uh, guest.”

you step back, and he strides in, immediately taking in the organized chaos that is your apartment. his eyes linger on the tower of pr boxes and that unmistakable stack of overdue bills. he whistles low under his breath, clearly trying not to laugh.

"so, this is the writer life, huh?" he asks, picking up a typewriter package with a raised eyebrow. "fancy stuff. do you, uh… actually use any of this?”

“i try,” you mumble, crossing your arms defensively, though you can’t help smiling. “but the whole ‘starving artist’ vibe means these typewriters just end up as very expensive paperweights. which, ironically, i can’t even afford.”

toji laughs, setting the box down before glancing around again. his gaze falls on the lampshade, where your black lace lingerie is very prominently draped. you feel your face go hot as he smirks.

“i like the decor,” he says, nodding toward the lingerie with a wicked grin.

“oh, my god,” you groan, covering your face. “listen, i was not expecting company today, so please, feel free to avert your eyes.”

"nah, i think it's got… character," he teases, leaning in just a little too close. “besides, i don’t mind a little mess.”

"well, great, because this is as real as it gets," you reply, huffing as you try to look anywhere but at him. "you’re in the trenches now, toji.”

he chuckles, moving to pick up a crumpled, half-empty bag of chips from the couch. "hey, trenches i can handle. i’ve got an eight-year-old at home, remember? my place is an organized war zone on a good day."

you snort, still feeling a bit mortified. “and here i was thinking i could at least fake having my life together in front of you.”

“oh, please,” he says, brushing a stray hair from your cheek. “you should’ve seen me back in college. this? this is nothing. plus,” he adds, his voice dropping slightly, “it’s kind of… cute.”

cute. did he actually just call your disaster zone cute?

before you can respond, he grabs one of the unopened PR boxes and raises an eyebrow. “so, what’s in this one? wanna have an impromptu unboxing?”

“toji, i swear if you open that —”

“c’mon,” he says, grinning as he peels the tape back. “think of it as the highlight of our first ‘official’ homebody date.”

you shake your head, both amused and exasperated, watching him fish out an overly ornate fountain pen, which he holds up like it’s the holy grail.

“look at this thing,” he says, turning it over with a smirk. “you could probably sign million-dollar deals with this alone.”

“or, you know, sign off on all my overdue bills.” you laugh, unable to stay embarrassed. “go on, add it to the pile. it’s practically a landfill at this point.”

he laughs, setting the pen down and stepping closer, his voice low. “listen, i get it. my place might not have bills stacked up, but it’s full of… reminders that i’m a work in progress too.”

you glance up at him, and suddenly, all the embarrassment melts away. you’re in your messy apartment, standing in an ancient t-shirt with this man who’s managed to turn your chaotic night into something unexpectedly comforting.

"thanks for not… judging," you say softly, feeling yourself relax for the first time since he walked in. “i know i’m not exactly put together, but —”

“hey.” he cups your face with a gentle smile. “don’t worry about it. you’re perfect like this. messy, comfy, real.”

before you can stop yourself, you lean in, and he meets you halfway, his lips brushing softly against yours. it’s not hurried, not desperate. just… perfect.

it hits you about a second too late — you’re kissing toji in the middle of your apartment, clutching a bag of trash. oh god, and it reeks of stale mountain dew and monster. 

classy.

you pull back with a mortified look, though toji’s face is the exact opposite, his smirk spreading like he’s just unlocked a secret treasure.

“don’t stop now,” he murmurs, glancing down at the offending trash bag in your hand. “but, uh… maybe lose that first?”

“yeah, i think we’re past the first-date mystique at this point,” you mutter, feeling your face heat up as you chuck the bag towards the corner, praying it’s out of sight enough to ignore.

“oh, yeah, you’re really blowing my mind here,” he teases, chuckling as he takes in the apartment around you. “all the caffeine fumes, that questionable takeout smell. smells like home already.”

“oh, shut up,” you laugh, covering your face, because this man is about two seconds from making you combust. “i’m surprised you even wanted to stay for dinner after walking into this disaster.”

“well,” he says, trying and failing to look innocent, “you haven’t seen the other disaster i brought.”

you raise an eyebrow as he gestures to the counter, where multiple takeout bags are somehow all stacked up.

“toji, what is all this?” you blink, shuffling over to the spread.

“look,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “i couldn’t decide what you’d like, so i just… went with options.”

options is a gross understatement. 

there’s a bag from the local thai place with an array of curries and pad see ew, another filled with boxes of sushi, and an entire tray of tacos, complete with mini bottles of hot sauce. you spot a large pizza box (of course), and is that… baklava?

“uh, toji? are we feeding a small country tonight?” you laugh, bewildered. “what were you thinking?”

“honestly? wasn’t thinking. just grabbed whatever looked good,” he says, giving you a sheepish grin. “but c’mon, if you don’t like one thing, there’s a million others.”

you give him a look, half-amused, half-exasperated, but it’s endearing in a way only toji could pull off. who even does this?

“i mean, don’t get me wrong,” you say, nudging a pizza box to make space for the taco tray, “i’m glad you thought of all the options, but… what exactly were you planning for us to do with all this?”

he shrugs, coming up beside you to open one of the sushi boxes. “eat as much as we want, throw the rest in the fridge. ‘course, that’s only if you’re not gonna make me eat it all myself.”

you snort, imagining him single-handedly tackling all of it. “if you can handle it, be my guest.”

he leans in close, voice dropping to a rough whisper. “oh, i can handle it.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re grinning like an idiot. “god, you’re impossible.”

“hey, you invited me over,” he says, opening a little container of wasabi and gesturing for you to try a piece of sushi. 

“besides, i figured it’s a good way to cover all bases. what if you didn’t like tacos? or pizza? or… god forbid, baklava?”

you can’t help laughing as you pop the sushi in your mouth, appreciating the deliciously over-the-top effort he put into this. “for the record, i love all of it. but you, on the other hand, have a questionable appetite if you thought this much food for two people was necessary.”

“trust me, if this is what it takes to keep you happy, i’ll bring twice as much next time,” he says, dead serious.

“oh no, please, i don’t think i can handle that.” you give him a look, incredulous. “i’ll end up eating myself into a food coma, and then what? you gonna carry me to bed?”

“well,” he says, leaning in again with a devilish grin, “i wouldn’t mind. but i was thinkin’ more along the lines of a movie marathon to work off the calories.”

“movie marathon and food coma?” you raise an eyebrow. “toji, you’re dangerously close to making this a slumber party.”

he shrugs, his face playful but there’s something softer in his eyes. “would that be the worst thing?”

you feel a flutter in your chest, something that almost surprises you with how much it settles you. here he is, surrounded by mountains of takeout and your chaotic apartment mess, looking like this is exactly where he wants to be. 

it’s… kinda nice.

“alright,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “you win. let’s have the weirdest, most food-filled homebody date ever. just, uh, ignore the mess. and don’t laugh at me if i pass out halfway through a movie.”

“promise.” he raises a hand, eyes glinting with humor. “cross my heart.”

the two of you start to dig in, laughing as you make jokes about how this is probably the strangest spread of food you’ve ever seen. every now and then, he’ll steal a quick kiss when he thinks he can get away with it, and you’re reminded just how much this man has wormed his way under your skin.

you’ve got no idea where this is going, but, staring at his smirk as he attempts to down an entire taco in one bite, you kinda hope it’s somewhere good.

the two of you stand side by side at the sink, the remnants of your feast sprawled across the counter. you’re scrubbing a particularly stubborn pan when you decide it’s the perfect time to hand toji the aux.

“alright, mister fancy chef,” you say, smirking as you pass him your phone. “you get to choose the soundtrack for our post-dinner clean-up. no pressure.”

“oh, no pressure at all,” he deadpans, scrolling through your playlist. you catch a glimpse of the mischievous grin creeping onto his face as he lands on an old favorite.

the unmistakable intro of dancing queen by abba fills the kitchen, and your mouth drops open in disbelief. 

“seriously? this? right now?” you laugh, a mix of amusement and embarrassment bubbling inside you.

“hey, don’t knock it till you try it!” he shoots back, raising his hands as if to defend his choice. “it’s a classic. plus, it takes me back to that night at the bar when you were all... well, you.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. “i was a mess.”

“yeah, but you were a cute mess.” he chuckles, and you feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the compliment.

as the upbeat tune plays on, you both start washing the dishes, swaying your hips to the rhythm. 

“you can dance, you can jive…” the lyrics echo through the air, and toji’s energy pulls you in. 

you catch him glancing at you with that smirk again, and the way his eyes light up makes your stomach flutter.

“just imagine,” he says, a teasing glint in his eye, “the two of us back at that bar. you, all over the place, and me just trying to figure out how to survive the night.”

you laugh, feeling nostalgic. “yeah, and then i somehow managed to puke all over your shoes.”

“my favorite shoes,” he says dramatically, rolling his eyes, but there’s a playful warmth in his tone. “but, honestly? worth it.”

the song builds, and you’re both lost in the moment, laughter and soap suds flying everywhere.

“see that girl, watch that scene…”

“how did we go from that night to this?” you ponder aloud, glancing at him. “i mean, here we are, washing dishes and dancing to abba.”

“it’s an upgrade he says, giving you a lopsided grin. “you know, from drunken disasters to… kitchen romance.”

“romance?” you raise an eyebrow, challenging him.

“oh, come on,” he says, stepping closer, the teasing slipping away from his tone. “there’s definitely something romantic about this. a pair of idiots like us, sharing this weird, beautiful mess.”

you can’t help but blush, your heart racing as you take in the way his gaze lingers on your lips. “digging the dancing queen…”

“you know, if this song gets stuck in my head, i’m blaming you,” you quip, trying to deflect the intensity of the moment.

“good luck with that,” he chuckles, moving even closer, the space between you almost nonexistent now. 

“night is young and the music’s high…”

his fingers brush against yours, the innocent touch sending sparks up your arm. the beat continues, your breaths getting heavier as the song builds up to the chorus. 

“dancing queen, feel the beat of the tambourine…”

you’re both staring at each other, and suddenly, the kitchen feels too small, too charged with the electricity of the moment.

“toji…” you start, but the words die on your lips as he leans in, his intent clear.

“just one kiss,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth lifting in a seductive smile. “for old time’s sake.”

before you can reply, he closes the gap, his lips capturing yours with a gentle yet insistent pressure. 

it’s like a scene from a movie — the soft warmth of his mouth against yours, the playful scent of the takeout wafting around you, the soft glow of the kitchen light illuminating his features.

you melt into him, heart racing as you kiss him back, losing yourself in the moment. the lyrics of the song seem to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you — the world outside disappearing entirely. 

when you finally pull away, both of you breathless, there’s a glint of something deeper in his eyes. 

“wow,” he breathes, still holding your gaze. “i think i like this new tradition.”

you chuckle, still buzzing from the kiss. “yeah, who knew washing dishes could be so… eventful?”

“well,” he says, leaning in closer again, voice low and teasing, “we haven’t even finished the song yet. you ready for round two?”

you’re half-dazed, your heart racing as you sit on the kitchen counter, toji’s arms caging you in, keeping you close. dancing queen continues to play in the background, but all you can focus on is the warmth radiating from him and the way his breath mingles with yours.

“you have got to stop making these kisses a regular thing,” you tease, half-heartedly trying to sound serious, but the playful glint in your eyes gives you away.

“especially when i’m propped up on my kitchen counter like this,” you add, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum, but you can’t help but smile as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

“liar,” he laughs, a low rumble that sends a thrill through you. “if you didn’t like it, you would have pushed me away, not this.” he gestures to your legs around him, grinning like the cat that got the cream.

you roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the warmth spreading through your cheeks. “okay, fine. maybe i’m a little into it,” you admit, and his grin widens, satisfaction dancing in his eyes.

“a little?” he echoes, raising an eyebrow, his hands tightening around your waist. “you’re a whole lot more than a little, and you know it.”

the cheeky banter flows easily between you, and as you gaze into his eyes, you realize just how much you’ve come to enjoy this — the closeness, the warmth, the undeniable chemistry crackling in the air.

“you know, it’s a bit unfair,” you say, tilting your head back slightly to meet his gaze. “here i’m trying to be responsible and not let you distract me, and yet…” you trail off, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

“and yet,” he finishes, leaning in slightly, his breath warm against your skin. “here i am, being irresistible.”

“definitely not irresistible,” you say, feigning indignation. but the way your heart races gives you away again.

“oh, come on,” he smirks, tilting his head slightly. “who else do you know can kiss you while washing dishes?”

you laugh, shaking your head, and the movement sends a wave of giddiness through both of you. “you might be right about that one,” you concede, biting your lip.

the song transitions into another upbeat section, and toji shifts his weight slightly, nudging your legs apart just enough to step closer, creating a tighter cocoon of warmth between you. 

“so, what now?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave, the playful tone replaced with something more serious, more intimate.

“what now?” you echo, feeling the tension shift slightly, the air thick with possibilities. “we could, um… finish washing dishes?”

“how boring,” he murmurs, and before you can say anything else, he dips his head down, capturing your lips again in a slow, lingering kiss that makes your head spin.

this kiss is different — softer, more explorative, as if he’s savoring the moment, the taste of you lingering on his lips. you respond eagerly, forgetting all about the dishes, the mess, everything else fading away until it’s just the two of you.

when you finally break apart, breathless, he grins down at you, that charming smirk making your heart flutter. “that’s what i’m talking about,” he says, a satisfied gleam in his eyes.

“toji, we really should —”

“don’t say it,” he interrupts, shaking his head with an exaggerated look of horror. 

“don’t ruin the moment with responsibility. just… let’s enjoy this.”

you can’t help but laugh again, the tension between you easing as you lean back against the countertop, your heart racing in a way that feels undeniably good.

“enjoying this, huh?” you murmur, running your fingers through your hair, still feeling the heat of his body against yours.

“yeah,” he replies, that charming smile still plastered on his face. “just two people enjoying a perfectly normal evening — you know, singing abba, eating takeout, and making out in your messy kitchen.”

“the most normal thing ever,” you agree, rolling your eyes, but you can’t suppress the smile that breaks across your face.

“so,” he says, tilting his head, his expression turning slightly more serious. “how about we make this a regular thing? you know, minus the messy kitchen. maybe my place next time?”

your heart skips a beat at the suggestion, and you find yourself nodding before you can think twice. “yeah, i’d like that.”

“great,” he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “but for now, let’s get back to the dishes, dancing queen.”

“fine, but only if you promise to keep playing abba,” you reply, giving him a mock-serious look.

“deal,” he chuckles, and as you both start scrubbing the remaining dishes, the music playing softly in the background, you realize you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

toji walks into his house, the dopey grin plastered across his face like he just won the lottery. 

his heart feels light, still buzzing from the night with you, and he’s practically floating as he kicks off his shoes and heads to the living room. 

he stops dead in his tracks when he sees gojo sprawled on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and a look of sheer mischief on his face.

“what the hell are you doing here?” toji asks, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably as he can’t help but grin back.

gojo lifts the bottle in a mock toast. “just your friendly neighborhood babysitter, here to keep an eye on megumi,” he says, glancing over to where megumi is sound asleep, sprawled on the floor with a gaming console still clutched in his tiny hands. “figured i’d check out your bar situation while i was at it.” he gestures to the empty bottles lined up on the table. “you know, for quality control.”

toji rolls his eyes but can’t suppress the chuckle escaping his lips. “you’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he says, moving closer.

gojo leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, a grin spreading across his face as he studies toji’s expression. “but seriously, you look like you just got off cloud nine. spill. what happened?”

toji’s grin widens even more, and he can’t help but let out a little giggle, feeling giddy. “you’re not gonna believe this,” he starts, plopping down on the couch next to gojo, who leans in closer, eager for the details. 

“it was… well, it was amazing.”

“amazing? now you’re really making me curious!” gojo presses, his eyes sparkling with interest. “tell me everything! every little detail!”

toji glances back towards the sleeping megumi, suddenly feeling a bit shy about sharing all the intimate details. “okay, okay. so, we were just supposed to have dinner, but it turned into this whole thing.”

“dinner? boooring. give me the juicy stuff!” gojo teases, waving his hand dramatically. “i want the scandalous details! were there kisses involved?”

toji feels his cheeks flush, and he can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this all feels. “yeah, there were some kisses… and then we ended up washing dishes together, and somehow —”

“washing dishes? how romantic!” gojo interrupts, dramatically placing a hand on his chest as if he’s been mortally wounded. “you’re a true romantic, toji.”

“shut up!” toji retorts, laughing harder now. “but it was nice, okay? we were just… comfortable with each other, you know? and then we ended up kissing while the song was playing.”

“which song? was it a love song? was it dancing queen?” gojo leans in closer, eyes wide with excitement. “tell me you two were blasting abba and getting all lovey-dovey!”

“yeah, actually!” toji can’t help but laugh again, the memory flooding back. “we were. it was so ridiculous, but it felt so right at that moment.”

“ridiculous how?” gojo presses, leaning back with a smirk. “were you two dancing around the kitchen like a couple of high-schoolers?”

“pretty much,” toji admits, a sheepish grin crossing his face. “i mean, it just happened, and i couldn’t help myself. i’ve never felt like this before.”

gojo raises an eyebrow, leaning back with a knowing smirk. “so, what you’re saying is that you’re head over heels for y/n? you’ve gone soft on us, toji.”

“yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” toji says, trying to sound annoyed but failing as he can’t help but feel giddy about it all. “but i think this is different. she makes me feel… i don’t know, like i’m actually living instead of just existing?”

gojo’s expression softens slightly, nodding in understanding. “that’s deep, man. i’m genuinely happy for you. but seriously, how did you go from makeouts to dinner to feelings so fast?”

“honestly? i have no idea,” toji shrugs, still riding that high. “but it just felt natural. like we were meant to do this.”

gojo is quiet for a moment, taking a swig from the bottle. 

“damn, it sounds like you really like her.”

“like? it’s more than that, i think,” toji admits, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “i’ve never let myself feel this way about anyone, and now i can’t stop smiling like an idiot.”

“good. you should let yourself feel,” gojo says, his tone lightening again. 

“just don’t forget you’re still my bro and not some mushy romantic lead in a romcom.”

toji snorts. “right, because i’m so good at playing it cool.”

“exactly,” gojo grins. “now, what’s the next step in this romance novel? are you going to take her out on an official date, or are you just going to keep sneaking kisses in her kitchen?”

toji thinks for a moment, that dopey grin returning. 

“i want to take her out. something special. not just a random dinner but a real date.”

“awww, look at you being all suave!” gojo teases, clapping him on the shoulder. “i’m actually proud of you, man. just don’t screw it up.”

“thanks for the vote of confidence,” toji rolls his eyes but can’t help but feel encouraged.

“now, let’s celebrate your new relationship status! i say we finish off the rest of these bottles and toast to your love life!” gojo suggests, already grabbing for another bottle.

toji chuckles, shaking his head. “you’re going to end up getting us both in trouble, you know that?”

“who cares? tonight’s all about you, my guy! let’s make some bad decisions!” gojo grins, and as toji laughs, the two of them settle in for a night of ridiculous stories and plans for the future — the dopey grin still plastered on toji’s face.

the day of the audiobook launch dawned bright and buzzing with excitement at gojo-sonic, and the atmosphere was electric. employees and investors milled about the sleek, modern venue, the air filled with chatter and the faint sound of clinking glasses. 

it was a low-key affair, but the anticipation crackled like static electricity in the air. you were among the few chosen to celebrate this moment, standing on the cusp of something big.

you had spent hours getting ready, and with shoko’s help, you looked stunning in your gown. it was a flowing number that hugged your curves just right, accentuating your figure while allowing you to move with grace. your hair was styled in soft waves, framing your face perfectly, and your makeup enhanced your features without overshadowing them. you caught glimpses of yourself in the reflective surfaces, a wave of pride swelling in your chest as you realized just how much effort went into this moment.

toji, on the other hand, was a mix of nervous energy and utter admiration. dressed sharply in a tailored suit, he felt a blend of pride and anxiety as he watched you mingle with the guests. but the moment his eyes landed on you in that gown, his body betrayed him. 

a rush of heat shot through him, and before he could even think, there it was — a very real, very embarrassing hard-on that he scrambled to cover up.

“shit, not now,” he muttered under his breath, cursing himself for being such a damn cliché. he quickly shifted his stance, pretending to adjust his tie as he tried to focus on anything other than the vision of you in front of him. 

like a decent man should, right?

“toji! you okay?” gojo’s voice cut through his thoughts, a smirk creeping across his face. he was leaning against the bar, a glass of something strong in hand, eyeing toji with amusement. “you look like you just saw a ghost.”

“i’m fine,” toji snapped a little too quickly, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “just… adjusting my suit.” he gestured wildly, trying to deflect the attention away from his embarrassment.

“uh-huh. sure,” gojo replied, barely hiding his laughter. “just keep it together. we wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself in front of everyone, especially her.” he nodded subtly towards you, who were now laughing with suguru, your charm radiating like a warm glow.

toji shot him a glare, a mix of irritation and amusement battling for dominance on his face. “thanks for the reminder, genius.”

the event continued, and you were seamlessly blending into the crowd, engaging in conversations with stakeholders and employees, your confidence shining through. 

when you shared a laugh with suguru, toji couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at how effortlessly charming you were. why the hell can’t i just say something nice instead of standing here like an idiot?

“there she is,” toji mumbled to himself, catching a glimpse of you as you made your way to the makeshift stage for the speeches. he admired how you carried yourself with such poise, the way your eyes sparkled with excitement. and in that moment, he was utterly captivated.

as you stepped up to the microphone, a hush fell over the crowd. 

“thank you all for being here today,” you began, your voice steady and clear, filled with warmth. “this launch means so much to me, and i couldn’t have done it without all the support from my friends and family. especially from those at gojo-sonic, who believed in this project.”

toji watched you intently, his heart swelling with pride. this was your moment, and you were absolutely shining. 

but as you spoke, he felt that familiar urge to approach you, to wrap his arms around you and tell you just how incredible you looked. 

but no, he stood rooted to the spot, reminding himself of the conversation they had before about maintaining a professional facade.

“and of course, a huge thank you to my amazing voice actor, toji fushiguro,” you continued, and the crowd erupted into applause, pulling him back into reality. the sound sent another rush of heat through him, and he felt like he was about to explode — both from embarrassment and pride.

“that’s me,” toji muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. gojo was right beside him, clapping exaggeratedly with a teasing grin. “you’re gonna have to give her a proper compliment after this, you know?”

“yeah, yeah,” toji grumbled, still flustered as he tried to focus on your words instead of his growing embarrassment.

when you finished your speech, the crowd cheered, and you stepped down, a satisfied smile on your face. 

you caught toji’s eye, and for a moment, the world faded away. he could see the joy radiating from you, and all his earlier doubts slipped away.

“toji!” you called out, your eyes sparkling. “what did you think?”

“you were amazing,” he said, finally finding the courage to step forward. “really. you owned that stage.”

“thank you,” you replied, your cheeks slightly flushed. “i was nervous, but it felt good to share this moment with everyone.”

as you spoke, toji’s heart raced. he leaned in closer, his voice lowering as he added, “and you looked absolutely stunning, too.”

“oh? just stunning?” you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

“okay, maybe breathtaking,” he admitted, a genuine smile creeping onto his face. 

“and just so you know, i had a minor… situation back there, thanks to how beautiful you looked. so, you know, just keep that in mind.”

your laughter rang out, the sound warm and inviting, making toji forget all about the earlier embarrassment. he realized that whatever the two of you had going on was something he wanted to cherish, something worth pursuing.

and as the night continued, surrounded by the buzz of celebration, toji felt a sense of hope blooming in his chest — this was just the beginning.

as the excitement of the launch continued to swirl around you, suguru approached, a wide smile lighting up his face. 

“there you are! i was beginning to think i’d have to drag you out from behind that mic,” he teased, wrapping you in a warm hug.

“suguru! thanks for coming!” you beamed, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence. “it means a lot to me.”

“wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, stepping back to take a look at you. “and wow, you look incredible. seriously, how do you pull off that look?”

gojo chimed in, practically bouncing on his heels. “it’s like she stepped out of a freaking fairytale, right? she’s basically a model now. i’m just a guy over here trying not to ruin the vibe.”

shoko smiled, her eyes soft as she observed the camaraderie. “you all did great tonight. it really was a wonderful launch.”

toji stood slightly apart from the group, hands shoved into his pockets, watching the dynamic unfold. he was proud of you and knew you deserved this moment, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of being on the outside. seeing you laugh and joke with suguru and gojo tugged at something deep inside him, a mix of admiration and protectiveness that made him feel a little more possessive than he expected.

“so, what’s next for you?” suguru asked, leaning in closer, his tone genuine. “another book, or are you taking a break?”

“a bit of both, actually,” you replied, glancing at toji. “i want to explore some new ideas, maybe branch out a little.”

just then, a lecherous-looking man stepped into the conversation, an air of arrogance radiating off him. 

“well, if it isn’t the famed author herself,” he sneered, a condescending smirk plastered on his face. “i have to say, it’s impressive how you’ve managed to carve out such a niche for yourself.” “free-use woman, is that what they call it? quite the career choice, huh?”

the moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere shifted. toji's heart raced, a cold wave of irritation washing over him. he could feel his jaw clenching as he shifted his weight, bracing himself for whatever would come next. 

the man had no idea what he was stepping into.

gojo’s expression darkened, his casual demeanor evaporating. “who the hell do you think you are, talking to her like that?” he snapped, stepping in front of you protectively. “you’re clearly out of your depth.”

shoko frowned, her eyes narrowing at the man. “that’s incredibly disrespectful. you should apologize right now.”

suguru, leaning closer to you, was already assessing the situation, his gaze piercing. “it’s brave of you to come here and talk to her, but if you think you can just waltz in and make those kinds of comments, you’re sorely mistaken.”

toji felt a surge of possessiveness overtake him, and he stepped forward, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “listen, buddy, you don’t get to come here and treat her like she’s some sort of object. she’s worked hard for everything she has, and you’re just jealous that you’ll never get anywhere close to her level.”

the man scoffed, clearly unfazed, but the looks on the faces of gojo, shoko, and suguru sent a wave of intimidation over him. “oh, what? you’re one of her little fanboys now?” he mocked, trying to play off the tension.

“she’s not just some girl for your amusement,” toji replied, his voice low but full of intensity. “if you can’t see that, then you don’t deserve to be in the same room as her.”

you were taken aback, a mix of shock and warmth flooding your chest at toji’s fierce defense. it was a side of him you hadn’t seen in this context, and it made your heart race. you quickly interjected, trying to defuse the situation. 

“it’s okay, really. i don’t mind —”

“no,” suguru cut you off gently but firmly, glancing back at you with concern. “you shouldn’t have to put up with that kind of trash talk. you’re better than that, and we’re here for you.”

“yeah,” gojo added, his expression serious. “this guy doesn’t know who he’s messing with. just because you think you can get away with it doesn’t mean you should.” he turned to the man, a fire burning in his blue eyes. 

“i’d suggest you leave before things get ugly.”

the man’s bravado faltered, and he hesitated, clearly weighing his options. 

“whatever, man,” he spat, finally backing away, a look of disdain on his face. “i didn’t want to talk to you losers anyway.”

as he walked off, toji felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was mingled with something else — something like pride for you and his friends, who had stood up for what was right. 

he turned to you, catching your eye. “you alright?”

you nodded, still processing what just happened. “yeah, thanks. i didn’t think he’d go that far.”

“he’s a fucking idiot,” toji replied, shaking his head. “you deserve better than that.”

“you all really stood up for me,” you said softly, feeling gratitude swell in your chest.

“of course we did,” shoko replied, her expression warm. “we’re your friends, and we’ll always have your back.”

toji stepped a bit closer, and for a moment, the noise of the event faded into the background. “just remember that,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “you’re not alone in this.”

and as the night continued, surrounded by friends who cared deeply for you, toji felt a sense of belonging that he hadn’t anticipated, realizing just how much he wanted to protect that warmth — protect you.

the event wrapped up smoothly, but leave it to gojo to suggest a “girls day out” to celebrate – the “girls” in question, of course, were all of you.

“come on!” gojo insisted, practically bouncing as you all filed out of the venue. “a little lunch at this fancy new place! i already reserved us a table. trust me, you’ll love it.” he flashed that signature grin, one that sparkled with both charm and mischief.

“i thought you called this a girl’s day out?” toji raised an eyebrow, looking mildly exasperated. “you’re delusional if you think i’m your girl, gojo.”

gojo only smirked, looping his arm through toji’s despite his attempts to shake him off. 

“toji, honey, everyone’s my girl,” he teased. “besides, i knew you’d say yes deep down.”

“keep telling yourself that,” toji muttered, though a small smirk betrayed his amusement.

suguru shook his head, amused, as he watched their dynamic. “sometimes i think we enable him too much.”

“you definitely do,” shoko chimed in, already lighting a cigarette as you walked along. “but at least lunch on gojo’s tab makes it worth it.”

soon enough, the five of you strolled into the swanky restaurant, where the hostess greeted gojo with a wide smile. “right this way, mr. gojo,” she said, leading you all to a secluded table with an impressive view.

gojo waited until you all took your seats before he threw himself down, stretching out like he owned the place. “order whatever you want, my treat!” he announced, flashing a grin at the menu. “the foie gras here is to die for.”

“you’re ordering foie gras?” you raised an eyebrow, half-amused and half-horrified.

gojo shrugged, feigning innocence. “what? it’s delicious.” he turned to toji. “you’re in, right?”

toji gave him a dry look. “i don’t even know what that is, gojo.”

suguru snorted into his drink. “you’re so cultured, toji.”

toji rolled his eyes, shoving a breadstick into his mouth with exaggerated indifference. “as long as it’s not something gojo personally cooked, i’ll eat it.”

gojo gasped dramatically, clutching his heart. “you wound me! i make a mean ramen!”

shoko raised an eyebrow at him. “instant ramen doesn’t count, gojo.”

as you skimmed the menu, suguru leaned over to point out some of the more “normal” dishes. 

“i’d stick to these if i were you,” he chuckled. “unless you’re ready for gojo’s idea of exotic.”

“good call,” you replied, grinning. “i’m not trying to eat anything that still has a face.”

just then, gojo noticed a seafood platter being served at a nearby table, and his eyes lit up. “oh, look at that! who’s in for oysters? fresh from the coast, or so they say.”

toji grimaced, pushing the menu away. “you’re kidding, right? i don’t eat anything slimy.”

gojo wagged his finger at him, smirking. “toji, you’ll never know the finer things in life with an attitude like that.”

“if the finer things in life involve slimy food, count me out,” toji retorted, crossing his arms.

you couldn’t help but laugh, catching suguru’s eye. he shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. 

“some things never change, huh?”

“yeah, especially gojo’s tastes,” shoko muttered, taking a sip of her drink.

as the food finally arrived, the table was soon filled with laughter and stories, everyone swapping tales about work, life, and everything in between. gojo, unsurprisingly, dominated the conversation, though he was more than happy to playfully drag each of you into his stories.

“and then, get this,” gojo laughed, his shoulders shaking. “i convinced the poor guy i was a psychic! he walked around with a ‘cursed’ amulet for a week before he realized i was just messing with him.”

“i don’t understand how anyone falls for your crap,” toji said, shaking his head, though even he was hiding a smile.

“it’s a gift,” gojo replied smugly, before winking at you. “isn’t that right?”

“oh, definitely,” you replied dryly. “a gift and a curse.”

“mostly a curse,” shoko agreed, patting gojo’s shoulder.

after a few rounds of drinks, everyone had relaxed into the easy camaraderie, passing dishes and laughing as gojo continued his dramatic retellings, complete with hand gestures and questionable impressions.

“so, toji,” gojo leaned over with a sly grin, “how’s… life?”

toji eyed him, wary. “life’s fine, gojo. what are you getting at?”

“nothing!” gojo held up his hands innocently. “just curious about your… extracurriculars.”

toji rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as shoko smirked, clearly entertained by toji’s suffering.

suguru leaned in, murmuring to you, “you think he’ll make it through the whole lunch without snapping?”

you laughed softly. “he’s holding up pretty well, all things considered.”

as dessert rolled around, gojo ordered a massive platter of sweets “for the table,” though everyone knew he’d end up eating half of it himself.

“i swear, if you finish all those eclairs before i even get one…” toji warned, eyeing gojo.

gojo winked, already reaching for a plate. “too slow, toji! if you want something, you’ve got to seize it.”

“yeah? you wanna see me seize it?” toji reached over, snatching an éclair from gojo’s hand in one swift move.

the entire table burst out laughing, gojo’s indignant look only adding to the humor. it was one of those rare moments where everything felt right, like you were all in sync, just enjoying each other’s company.

as you leaned back in your chair, watching everyone banter, you felt a warmth settle in your chest. these were the kinds of moments you’d remember – the laughter, the shared jokes, the way each person’s personality filled the room in a way only they could.

it was a good day. 

and somehow, you had gojo’s “girls day out” to thank for it.

“suguru! where are you going?” gojo called, laughing.

suguru gave a halfhearted smile. “just… need to take this.”

you watched him go, a flicker of concern starting to build when minutes passed with no sign of his return. eventually, you excused yourself, hoping everything was alright.

turning the corner, you found him leaning against the wall, head down, shoulders tense and shaking slightly. the quiet sound of his breath catching, his barely-contained sobs – it was like a punch to the chest. 

suguru geto never cried.

“suguru?” you whispered, not wanting to startle him.

he looked up, his face streaked with tears, a raw, vulnerable expression you’d never seen. he quickly tried to brush it off, rubbing his eyes. “you shouldn’t… see me like this,” he muttered.

your heart clenched as you stepped closer. “hey, i’m your friend. you don’t have to hide from me.”

he looked away, swallowing hard, his voice strained. “it’s… her. she made her choice.” he took a ragged breath. “she doesn’t love me. she’s with someone else now.”

you felt your stomach twist at the pain in his voice, at the way his composure was unraveling before you. you reached out instinctively, placing a hand on his shoulder. “suguru, i’m so sorry. i know how much she meant to you.”

he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. 

“i thought we had something real, you know? i thought… i thought she’d see me the same way.”

“you loved her,” you murmured, feeling his anguish like a weight pressing on your chest. “you gave her everything. sometimes people… they just don’t see what’s right in front of them.”

“maybe it’s me,” he choked, clenching his fists. “maybe i just wasn’t enough.”

you took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “don’t say that. you’re more than enough. she just… didn’t see it. it doesn’t mean you aren’t worth it.”

his face crumpled, and for a moment, he was silent, holding onto you like you were an anchor keeping him from sinking. 

“i feel so… empty,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

“let it out, suguru,” you said gently, wrapping your arms around him. “you don’t have to carry this alone.”

he leaned into your embrace, taking deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to regain control. you rubbed soothing circles on his back, feeling each tremble, each heartbeat, sharing in the quiet vulnerability of the moment.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you right now,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“you don’t have to,” you replied softly. “i’m here. you’ll be okay, suguru. even if it takes time.”

as you comforted him, you didn’t notice that toji had also come looking for you. he’d been watching the hallway, glancing at his watch, wondering what was taking you so long. 

a knot of worry twisted in his stomach, his mind flashing back to the earlier incident – that sleazy man at the event who had tried to approach you.

what if something happened again?

when he turned the corner, the sight he found stopped him cold. 

you, hugging suguru, holding him so tightly, your hand stroking his hair as he buried his face into your shoulder.

a strange, hot flare of jealousy surged up in his chest. 

his jaw clenched as he stared at you, his fingers twitching with the urge to do… something. here was suguru, wrapped up in your arms, his pain visible and raw – but still.

 toji couldn’t help the spike of resentment. why did it have to be suguru you were comforting?

why couldn’t you hold onto him like that?

his fingers tightened around the edge of his jacket, his thoughts spiraling. he knew he had no right to feel this way, knew suguru was hurting – but the sight of you so intimately close, your gentle words he couldn’t quite hear, only made his jealousy deepen.

his eyes narrowed as he kept watching, trying to ignore the twinge of vulnerability he hadn’t expected. why did he care so much? he gritted his teeth. 

but when you finally looked up, catching sight of him, his expression was unreadable, masked beneath a carefully controlled look. there was a subtle stiffness to the way he held himself, and his gaze flickered briefly to suguru before settling back on you.

“toji…” you said softly, surprised to see him there.

he crossed his arms, giving a slight nod in suguru’s direction. “everything alright?”

“yeah,” you replied, glancing at suguru, who gave a faint nod, still wiping at his eyes. “just… a hard day.”

toji’s eyes softened slightly as he looked at you, though his expression remained guarded. “you’re a good friend,” he murmured, barely audible, though there was a hint of something deeper behind his words.

you offered him a small smile, sensing the underlying tension. “just doing what anyone would.”

toji’s gaze lingered on you a little longer, his jealousy ebbing slightly, though a part of him still ached to be the one you held so tightly, the one you’d stayed for so long just to comfort. 

but he pushed the feeling down, knowing that tonight, suguru needed you more.

suguru excused himself to rejoin the table, likely gravitating toward satoru, who knew more about his heartbreak than anyone else there. that left just you and toji standing in your little corner, tucked away from the bustling restaurant.

he was looking at you with that smirk of his, the kind that had you already feeling flustered, but determined not to give him the satisfaction. he took a casual step forward, slipping his hands into his pockets, and leaned in close, voice low and almost playful.

“so… what’re you doing over here, all alone with me?” he drawled, eyes trailing slowly from your eyes down to your lips.

before he could say anything else, you raised an eyebrow, folding your arms. 

“you mean, other than watching you try to pretend you weren’t sporting a hard-on for half the event?”

the teasing grin on your lips was unmistakable, and his reaction was instant. toji’s expression flickered, a hint of surprise in his eyes, followed by an intense gleam as he chuckled under his breath. “oh, so you noticed that, huh?”

“noticed? please,” you scoffed, keeping up your confident front even as he closed the space between you with slow, measured steps. “how could i not? it was right there.”

“guess you were too busy looking at me to focus on anything else,” he replied smoothly, his voice dropping a little lower. he leaned in, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours, breath warm against your skin. “maybe i should’ve been paying more attention to you instead.”

your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t let it show. 

“well, now you know better,” you murmured back, voice challenging. “maybe you should’ve acted on it then, instead of waiting until now.”

he raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “oh, is that a challenge?”

“only if you can handle it,” you shot back, the thrill of the back-and-forth sparking something between you two.

his eyes darkened, and before you knew it, he had one hand on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his other hand braced against the wall by your head. 

“you think i can’t handle a little challenge from you?” he murmured, his lips so close they nearly brushed yours.

you swallowed, but kept your cool. “if you could, you wouldn’t be hesitating.”

“trust me, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and dangerously smooth, “when i’m done with you, you won’t be the one running your mouth.”

before you could come up with a retort, his lips were on yours, firm and demanding, as if he’d been waiting all night to finally do this. you couldn’t hold back a soft gasp as he kissed you deeper, his hand sliding up to cradle your face while his other gripped your waist tightly, pressing you up against the wall.

your hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, clutching him as he took full control of the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours with a fierceness that left your head spinning. he groaned softly as he pressed his body closer, one hand sliding up the side of your thigh, fingers grazing over the soft fabric of your dress.

“you like getting me all worked up, don’t you?” he murmured against your lips, his voice laced with that smug edge that made you shiver. “can’t get enough of teasing me, huh?”

“maybe i do,” you shot back, though your voice wavered slightly as he bit down on your lower lip, sending a spark through you. “but it’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

he chuckled darkly, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing just beneath your ribs as he pressed his hips against yours. 

“yeah? what’re you gonna do about it?” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

“you really think you’re in control here?” you asked, voice challenging even as he continued to press you into the wall. “because from where i’m standing, it looks like you’re the one who can’t resist me.”

“careful what you say,” he warned, his tone thick with restrained desire. “i’m this close to dragging you out of here and making you eat those words.”

your heart raced, and even though you were half-tempted to keep pushing him, you couldn’t deny the thrill of having him this close, his hands roaming over you, his lips brushing down your neck. you let out a breathless laugh, threading your fingers through his hair as you tugged him closer. 

“then maybe you should quit talking and show me what you’ve got.”

he didn’t need any further invitation. his grip tightened on you, his mouth covering yours in a heated, almost punishing kiss that left you breathless. his hands roamed over your body with a hunger that was practically palpable, every touch igniting a new spark. 

he was practically devouring you, his breath coming faster as he pressed you harder against the wall, his fingers digging into your waist as he kissed you deeply, thoroughly, like he wanted to leave his mark.

“god,” he murmured, voice husky, “you’re driving me insane.” he leaned back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intense. “you really wanna keep pushing me, huh?”

you smirked, your own voice barely above a whisper. “maybe i just like seeing what you’ll do about it.”

on the outside, you were holding your ground. confident smirks, playful retorts, the whole act. but on the inside? 

you were freaking the fuck out. 

here you were, basically mimicking every female lead you’d ever written, pulling from their limitless reserve of sass and self-assuredness to somehow keep pace with toji's relentless flirting. each comeback, each smirk — it was like a mental pep talk to channel all those characters who’d never break a sweat in this situation.

but… oh god. what if things actually got hot and heavy? 

you were standing there, going toe-to-toe with toji of all people, and it hit you — you were completely out of your depth here. this was not your usual flirting, the teasing banter you’d half-heartedly perfected through fictional dialogue. 

this was real.

and suddenly the thought crept in like an alarm bell: you might actually have to… gn?

your eyes widened a fraction as you tried to keep your cool. 

gn. 

get naked, not even good night — although, maybe a good night after the get naked part, if you even made it that far without spontaneously combusting. 

your mind raced, frantically scrolling through every bedroom scene you’d ever written, but realizing none of them really prepared you for this. 

oh my god, you panicked inwardly, just because i write smut doesn’t mean i know what to do when i’m the one gripping the sheets!

“what, cat got your tongue?” toji’s voice interrupted your internal spiral, his smirk widening as he traced a thumb across your cheek, dipping dangerously close to your lips. “not so confident now, are ya?”

you forced a grin, cursing the tremble in your fingers as they clutched at his shirt. 

“oh, please, like i’m nervous,” you shot back, mentally crossing every finger and toe that your voice didn’t waver. 

inside, though, you were a swirling mess, praying he didn’t catch the slightest tremor. 

fake it till you make it, right? 

only problem was, the longer he looked at you, the more he seemed to see right through you.

his eyes narrowed just a little, his smirk shifting into something… softer, a touch more considerate. you wanted to think he’d be gracious, that he’d at least slow down, but no, there was something else in his gaze. maybe a flicker of understanding? 

no, that was too generous.

he was toji.

and as if he could sense your hesitation, he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. 

“relax, princess,” he whispered, his tone softer, maybe even gentle. “we can go as slow as you want. besides…” his lips quirked up into a teasing grin. 

“don’t think you’re getting out of this without admitting how much you’re enjoying it.”

relax? yeah, right. 

your heart was doing backflips, your mind racing through every possible move you’d probably never have the courage to pull off. he had you right where he wanted you, and you couldn’t stop the blush rising to your cheeks. 

oh god, you thought desperately, please don’t ask me to make the next move.

just as you were bracing yourself to somehow manage to keep up this charade of confidence, toji’s phone vibrated between you, cutting the tension with a blaring ringtone. and of all people, it had to be gojo. you glimpsed his name flashing on the screen right as toji picked up, rolling his eyes before pressing the phone to his ear.

“what, satoru?” toji sighed, clearly irritated at the interruption.

“toji! man, hurry up and get back here!” gojo’s voice screeched through the phone, loud enough for you to hear the dramatic urgency. “we’ve got a very, very depressed mr. geto here who’s having the existential crisis of the century. we need all hands on deck, and yes, that means you too. and preferably sober, mind you. no drinks this time! none.” 

gojo's voice dropped, muttering something about “banging y/n later if you have to,” but you both caught it.

toji gave you a side-eye smirk, shaking his head at gojo’s predictability, before letting out a sigh. 

“fine. but you owe me one, big time.” and with that, he ended the call, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

before you could even tease him about the abrupt change of plans, he leaned in and gave you a sharp smack! on the ass, grinning at the way you jumped. 

“guess we’ll have to put this on hold, princess. duty calls.” with a wink, he took your hand, leading you back toward the table.

it was gonna be a long night.

back at the table, the scene was…well, not what you’d expected. 

suguru looked rough. 

he sat slumped in his chair, swirling a glass of water (gojo had made sure of it) with a far-off stare that looked like he was seeing into another dimension. gojo and shoko were positioned on either side of him, each with their own ineffective tactics.

“c’mon, sugu, it’s not the end of the world,” gojo said, nudging him with a grin that looked a bit too forced. “i mean, i never liked her anyway. you deserve way better than —”

“she was amazing,” suguru cut him off, his voice flat but tinged with emotion. “you wouldn’t understand, satoru.”

shoko sighed, patting his shoulder. “she wasn’t that amazing. she had weird fashion taste.”

“and didn’t she correct you on every little thing? constantly?” gojo added, crossing his arms with a small smirk.

suguru gave them both a look, unamused. “i liked her fashion sense. and i didn’t mind the corrections.”

toji leaned back in his seat, giving you a subtle eye roll. 

this was what you’d come back for. 

he sighed, then leaned forward, slapping a hand on suguru’s shoulder. “you know, sulking isn’t gonna help anything. maybe it’s time to get back out there, stop dwelling on someone who clearly didn’t value you.”

suguru let out a tired sigh, and gojo jumped in, eyes lighting up. “exactly! there are plenty of people who’d be thrilled to date the great suguru geto!” he gestured around the room as if a fan club might spontaneously form right then and there. 

“you’re smart, you’re talented —”

“and single,” shoko added dryly, sipping her drink with a shrug.

suguru slumped lower, clearly unconvinced. “i don’t want to be single,” he muttered. “i wanted her.”

you winced at the defeated tone in his voice, exchanging a helpless look with toji, who looked equally unsure what else they could say to help. 

gojo, though, was not one to give up. he clapped his hands, as if a brilliant idea had just struck him.

“okay! new plan,” he declared, leaning in with an almost manic enthusiasm. “you’re going to go out with us this weekend. all of us. no work, no responsibilities — just a wild time. we’ll find you a nice rebound —”

suguru glared. “no, thanks.”

shoko groaned, propping her chin on her hand. “well, i’m out of ideas. anyone else?”

you took a deep breath, deciding to give it one last shot. 

“maybe…you don’t have to forget her completely, but maybe you can focus on what made you happy outside of her. like, remember what you love doing?”

suguru looked at you, as if considering the thought, but then slumped back. “it’s not the same,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just…not the same.”

gojo groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. “i swear, you’re worse than me on my worst breakup day. someone call for reinforcements because i think we’re gonna need a miracle worker for this one.”

the table fell quiet, everyone glancing at suguru, who looked as defeated as ever, and it hit you that maybe tonight, there really wasn’t a solution.

one month later, the dreaded wedding invitation arrived, dropped unceremoniously on suguru’s desk. it was embossed in gold, the bride and groom’s names announced in elegant script, and just looking at it made his chest tighten. this was her wedding — the woman he’d once thought he’d spend his life with, now celebrating a future with someone else.

gojo’s reaction was immediate, bursting out in an exaggerated laugh when he saw the invite on suguru’s desk. 

“are you kidding me? she’s really inviting you? that’s low, even for her. come on, suguru, you’re not actually thinking about going, are you?”

suguru just gave a small smile, almost serene in the face of it all. “actually, i think i might.”

gojo gaped. “what?! dude, they’re practically rubbing it in your face! it’s like sending a ‘ha-ha, we’re in love, and you’re not’ postcard.” 

he crossed his arms, scowling at the offending piece of cardstock. “this is the most tasteless thing i’ve ever seen.”

shoko, who was nearby, raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-curious. “maybe she didn’t mean it that way, satoru. maybe it’s her way of being considerate, keeping suguru involved as a friend.”

gojo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “oh please, you don’t invite your ex to your wedding, especially if you broke his heart. she should be thrilled he’s not cursing her name in three different languages.”

but suguru only shook his head, calm as ever. “it’s not like that, satoru. we’ve both moved on, in our own ways. i don’t hold it against her. she chose what makes her happy, and if that’s someone else…well, then i wish her the best.” he shrugged lightly. “i don’t see any point in being bitter about it.”

gojo stared at him, as if seeing an entirely different person. “you’re joking, right? this is not you. the real suguru would’ve burned that thing or at least made a snarky comment about her dress being too ‘last season.’”

suguru laughed, an easy, relaxed sound that caught them all by surprise. “that’s exactly it, satoru. i don’t want to be that guy anymore. i’ve spent enough time with those feelings. they’re…exhausting. if going to this wedding gives me closure, then why not?”

gojo looked like he was about to combust. “closure? closure is just a fancy word for ‘let me put myself through hell for no reason.’ honestly, suguru, you’re giving her too much credit. she’s the one who ditched you, remember?”

suguru tilted his head, offering gojo a gentle but pointed look. “maybe it’s not about her anymore. maybe this is just about me.” his voice was calm, but there was a certain finality in it, as if he’d already come to terms with everything.

gojo, meanwhile, huffed and crossed his arms, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “well, i think it’s ridiculous. she doesn’t deserve any more of your attention.”

suguru sighed, but there was a faint smile on his lips, as if gojo’s dramatics were somehow endearing. 

“satoru, not everything is a personal insult. people make choices. sometimes they’re not the ones we wanted, but that doesn’t make them wrong.”

gojo let out a long, exaggerated groan. “you’re way too good for this world, suguru. like, way too mature. no one deserves you. i’d be sending her a glitter bomb or something, just for the hell of it.”

shoko chuckled, patting gojo on the back. “maybe you should take a lesson from suguru. not everyone has to nurse their ego through every breakup.”

gojo snorted, still glaring at the invitation like it had personally offended him. “fine, go ahead and be the bigger person, suguru. but if you even think about bringing me as your plus-one, i’m causing a scene.” 

he folded his arms defiantly. “i’m talking upstaging the bride type of scene.”

suguru’s smile widened, genuine and peaceful. “noted, satoru. but i think i’ll be alright.”

and in that moment, watching suguru handle what should have been a painful reminder with quiet dignity, even gojo’s bluster faded just a bit. sure, he might think suguru was handling it all wrong, but deep down, he couldn’t help but admire his friend’s strength.

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[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

I WANT A HEART TATTOO!

I'LL NEVER GET IT REMOVED!

synopsis// suguru gives you your first tattoo.

➚ pairing// tattoo artist!suguru geto x gn!reader

➚ word count// 2k

contents// friends to lovers, tattooed and pierced geto, reader is a chicken, mentions of drinking, maybe like the ittiest bittiest type of suggestive toward the end...? slightly teasing/cocky geto?

notes// this is kinda cringe but i am cringe and free. also this was inspired by heart tattoo by joyce manor (dont play with me rn.) hoping this will help hold yall off till i can finish the smau...

Geto meticulously cleans up his tattoo station, occasionally stopping to take a swig of the beer you so kindly brought him. 

“You’re quiet.” 

You hum as you take a sip of your own beer. 

He stops and turns around to face you, his eyebrow raised. “Why?” 

“I like watching you clean.” 

Geto laughs. Not just a small one either, but the kind that makes his nose crinkle and his cheeks bunch to the point his eyes are forced closed. You ignore the butterflies in your stomach, blaming it on the alcohol (even if this is only your first beer and definitely not enough to have any sort of effect on you, but you digress). 

“What’s so interesting about watching me clean anyway?” 

You huff, ignoring the increasing heat on your face. “I don’t know... Just shut up and finish cleaning, Suguru. I wanna leave.” 

He smiles and turns back around, continuing to clean. “I told you you could go home.” 

“And leave you to fend for yourself?”

“I’m a grown man.” 

“Whatever… Besides, I can’t drink all these beers by myself.” 

Geto doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders shake slightly with a small, silent laugh, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. You love his little quirks. You always have.

maybe a little too much.

Meanwhile, he picks up his tattoo machine and stares at it. There’s nothing particularly interesting about it; it’s just plain black, freshly wrapped in some black medical tape. 

“Hey Y/N?” 

“Something wrong?” 

He shakes his head and turns to face you again, tattoo machine still in hand. “You still don’t have any tattoos, huh?” 

“Um, no,” you respond sheepishly. “I’m not like scared or anything-“ 

“I wasn’t gonna say that.” 

“Oh. then what were you gonna say?” 

“Can I give you a tattoo?” 

You blink at him. It’s not like you don’t trust him. You trust Geto with your life. You trust him more than anyone or anything in the world. Shit, you might trust him even more than you trust yourself. It’s just…

Geto impatiently groans at your lack of answer. “Oh, cmon, you literally promised me when we were younger that you would let me tattoo you!” 

“That was when we were like twelve!” you scoff, in disbelief he’d throw something as old as that in your face… Maybe he’s been hanging around Gojo too much. 

“Give me one good reason why you won’t let me tattoo you.” 

You frown as you look away, and right away you can hear his footsteps as he places himself in your line of vision again. raising his eyebrows as if to ask, “well?” 

You mumble something under your breath that he doesn’t quite catch. “Y/N, you know I can’t hear you when you do that.” 

“I actually am scared!” you finally say loud enough for him to hear, and it comes out more like a single word than a full sentence.

Geto can't help but giggle, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth, but not even that helps.

“Suguru, this isn't funny; I'm being vulnerable here!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says through stifled laughter before finally calming down enough to clear his throat. “You're right, it isn’t funny,“ he pauses for a moment. ”Wanna know something?”

“What?”

“Getting tattooed scares me too.”

“Liar,” you scoff. “You're covered in them.”

Geto shrugs. “Doesn’t mean it’s not unnerving each time.”

“I just don’t want it to hurt,” you explain with a slight pout.

“It’s a needle going in and out of your skin, Y/N.”

“Exactly!”

“Fine,” Suguru says with a sigh, and you think that's it; he's done, but not even a few seconds later does he speak up again: “What if I said I'll be gentle?”

“Haha.” Your brain immediately short circuits, and the butterflies in your stomach are something you can't blame on the alcohol this time. “Huh.”

Geto laughs softly. “With your tattoo?”

You nod blankly, your brain still not working properly and not yet actually computing what he’s still asking you.

“Yes?” he confirms excitedly.

“Yeah…” Finally, it hits you. “Wait, no! I mean, no. and not to mention you’ve been drinking?”

“Like two sips, Y/N,” he says with a slight pout and roll of his eyes. “You know better than anyone; it takes a lot more than that to get me drunk.”

“Okay, well, what about me? Isn't it bad to get tattoed when you’ve been drinking?”

“Oh my god, just say yes or no. You know I won’t be mad if you decide not to.”

You stare deep into Geto’s eyes, and he’s not lying; he won't be mad. disappointed, sure, but not mad. never mad, never when it comes to you. And right then and there, your conviction crumbles into a million tiny pieces, just dust in the wind.

“…fine”

“fine?”

“You can tattoo me. But!" you exclaim, pointing a finger at him as if lecturing him, “it has to be small! and somewhere where it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, I can't guarantee that last part, and you know that,” he says blankly.

You sigh in defeat. “Yeah, I know.”

Geto smiles at you softly and coos, “But I will try,” as he gently caresses your cheek before breaking away and turning around to pull back out the stuff he needs.

You stand there wide-eyed, and your jaw dropped. Geto is affectionate, sure, but he’s never been that affectionate. He couldn’t feel the same way, could he? You shake your head, denying that thought, even despite how hot you feel.

He just did that to comfort you.

That’s all.

He was just trying to be reassuring.

That's it.

At least that's what your brain is trying to say, but your heart is saying another with the way it violently beats against your rib cage.

The minute he turns around, you compose yourself, shutting your mouth and hoping to god he doesn’t notice your chest heaving almost uncontrollably.

Geto pats his tattoo chair. “Sit.”

You hesitate, standing there like a deer in headlights.

Geto clicks his tongue dramatically before grabbing your hand and leading you to his chair, mumbling a reassuring, “Trust me.”

You frown, placidly letting him drag you around like a rag doll. “I do trust you.”

“Then sit.”

And when he says it like that, how can you say no? When he’s staring at you so intently that it’s almost as if he can see right through you, how do you say no? You cant. So you don't. The only thing you can do is—petulantly—plop down into his tattoo chair.

“Sit right and lay your arm on the armrest.”

“No, do it like this.” By ‘this’ you mean with you hunched over and your arm resting on your leg rather than the armrest like Geto is telling you to.

He sighs deeply. "Y/N, your arm resting on your leg is not stable enough. like at all.”

“Do it like this or not at all.”

“Fine.” He raises an eyebrow at you in mild disapproval and says, "But if it comes out bad, it’s not my fault.”

You roll your eyes, unamused. Geto would never let anything he puts on your body come out even remotely bad. “Whatever.”

“Why like this anyway?”

“Because it’s comfortable..?”

Not really.

Like at all.

Actually, this is extremely uncomfortable, and you're sure your back will hate you later, but this gives you the best view of Geto, and that's all you care about.

“Okay, fine,” he says, not bothering to put up much more of a fight before getting in position. “Ready?”

“Yeah…” Not even a second later, you blurt out, “Wait!”

Geto’s head shoots up, his concerned eyes scanning your face intently. “What? What is it?”

You don't say a word; instead, you grab onto his shoulder with your free hand, prepared to claw into it if and when need be.

“Is that why you’re sitting like this?” He asks, a smug smile creeping onto his face as it finally hits him. “You just wanted to hold onto me?”

You nod sheepishly.

Geto smiles. “Are you ready now, then?”

You nod again.

but that's not good enough for him. He wants a real reply. “For real this time?”

“For real this time.”

Geto doesn't miss a beat, and you close your eyes as your face scrunches up in anticipation, your nails already sinking into his shoulder. But the minute the tattoo machine actually meets your skin, you peek one eye open because all you really feel is some vibration and the tiniest of scratches. It doesn’t hurt that bad at all, actually; it’s more than tolerable, and with that, your hand relaxes against his shoulder, still resting on it but no longer gripping him like he’s the only thing tying you to this earth.

It’s not long after that the feeling fades into the background of your mind, like a blur. Being tattooed isn’t even a thought in your brain at all right now. Geto could be tattooing a dick on your arm right now, and you wouldn’t even know because the only thing you can focus on is him.

The only thing you can ever focus on is him, if you’re being honest.

But right now, something is different. Seeing him in his element makes your knees go weak, and you’re grateful for the fact that you’re sitting. and suddenly you don’t know why you’ve never let him tattoo you sooner. You’d let him tattoo you a thousand more times if it meant you got to see him like this. He somehow makes the way he focuses look like art—from the way his brows are knitted together in concentration to the way he absentmindedly bites and fiddles with his lip piercings—it’s all art; he makes it look too beautiful. like he’s more modeling and pretending to focus than actually doing it. You involuntarily let out a deep, longing sigh, your eyes fluttering close in the process.

Geto’s gaze flits up to your face. “You're not about to pass out on me, right?”

You open your eyes and meet his gaze with a small, content smile on your face. “No, I'm fine, Suguru.”

“I mean, if you were, that would be fine too, because I'm done,” he replies, turning off his tattoo machine and moving away from you.

“Already?!” you ask, slightly shocked. It didn't feel like it had been that long.

“Yeah,” he says plainly as he stands up and starts quickly cleaning up his workstation once more. "Don't know what you were so scared of, dork.”

You open your mouth, ready to say something sarcastic or explain yourself, but before the words can even leave your mouth, before you can even think of them, Geto is turning back around to face you and cupping your chin in between his index finger and thumb.

Geto leans down at the same time he tilts your head up and places a chaste kiss on the corner of your (still open) mouth, cooing, “You took it so well.”

All you can do is laugh nervously. “What?” You're still giggling; you don't think you could do much else at this point. “What was that- Why did you just-“

Geto starts laughing along with you, except it’s not a defense mechanism for him; he’s just finding this all too amusing. “You didn't think I gave you a heart for no reason, did you?”

You quickly look down at your arm, the action ripping your chin out of Geto’s hold. “You gave me a heart,” you say absentmindedly, and it sounds more like a question than an actual statement.

“Are you just now noticing?” he asks, returning his hand to your chin and gently guiding you to look up at him again. “I thought you were watching the whole time.”

You swallow sharply, becoming acutely aware of how close his face is to yours again. “I was watching something the whole time, but it was not the actual tattoo.”

“Oh? and what was so much more interesting?”

“Mind your business-“

Geto barely even lets you finish your snarky remark before leaning in and kissing you again. except this time for real. except this time you kiss back.

and suddenly tattoos don’t seem so bad anymore, so long as they all end like this.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[samandcolbyownme]

The people wanted Colby angst & the people are getting Colby angst.

Summary: After a long, on and off, secret relationship with Colby, reader finally has had enough, or have they?

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, angst, kinda sad, arguing/fighting, mentions of alcohol, flirting, reader is the lead singer in a rock band, slight mentions of depression/anxiety, hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, unprotected shower make up sex, filth

Word count: 6.8K | NOT edited

Inspired by the song, The Grey by Bad Omens. I will also be using a few of their other songs, so if you haven't listened to them, you definitely should. Noah Sebastian is chefs kiss 💋

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

The relationship you had with Colby was the first relationship you kept going back to.

You knew he was bad for you, mainly because it felt like he was holding you back more than pushing you forward, but you loved him with everything you had in you.

When you were together, just the two of you, it was pure bliss. Like seeing love through rose colored lenses.

But it never failed to change with each launch party of a new album or even an after party for playing at a sold out show.

Colby couldn't contain his jealously, but yet, he's the one who wanted to keep your guy's relationship secret in the first place.

He didn't want the lime light, he wanted to have you all to himself, but he failed to realize that with your career growing, so would your popularity grew with it.

You broke up for a while, spent a few weeks apart. You worked on your new album some more. Colby hung out with Sam, investigating the paranormal some more.

You and Sam were good friends, so around the time Sam told you they'd be back, you got that, can we talk? text from Colby, and ever since then, you've been better than ever.

You agreed to understand him wanting to stay out of the spot light, so in public you were friends usually have dinner with other friends, but when it came to your band, they knew which meant you could kiss each other in front of them and they wouldn't bat an eye.

He's come to your studio sessions. Sat up until three am with you while you wrote down and hummed to random song lyrics. He's even been front row at sound checks.

He's become an even bigger number one fan and you absolutely loved it.

Things seemed to be going in the right direction for a while, and you were thinking about talking to him again about going public, mainly because you wanted more from him.

More with him.

You thought that since your relationship was in such a good place and haven't called it quits for the sixth time, it could work.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Here's to y/n. Her talent is what got us here in the first place." Your guitarist, Lewis, raises his glass and everyone follows in with a loud, "To y/n."

You laugh, leaning into Colby. He lays his arm over you, taking a sip from his drink, "You really deserve this, babe." He smiles, planting a kiss on your temple.

You smile, taking a sip from your glass, "Let's face it though, I would be here without you guys." You motion to the rest of your band, "So let's give a toast to the people who stand beside-" you point to your drummer, Hunter,"And sit behind me on stage."

Hunter laughs, "Thanks for being so specific, y/n."

You nod, "Of course."

You look at Colby, "And thank you, for supporting me no matter what we go through."

He smiles, "I love you."

"I love you." You lean in, pecking his lips before turning to face your band, "Who's up for another round, huh?"

A few hours later, you and Colby arrive back to your house.

"So when's the album supposed to be finished?" Colby asks as he sits on the couch. You shrug your jacket off, walking over, "Hopefully by the end of the month. I have almost eight tracks so far? I want there to be at least ten."

"Are you going to release a single?" He extends his arm out as you sit down next to him, "Your singles are always a banger."

You laugh slightly and shrug, "I've thought about it. I mean, I have ideas but-"

Colby's phone buzzes and he ignores it.

Probably just Sam, you think, "I haven't really-" Colby's phone buzzes again, "Do you need to get that?"

He shakes his head, "I'm not worried about it. I'm worried about you." He pulls you closer and kisses your head, "So what are these ideas you have for a single?"

You blow out air, resting your head back onto his arm, "I'd have to go get my notebook, my brain is still kinda fuzzy from the show and then the post show alcohol."

You get up, laughing to yourself as you walk into the room that holds all your music equipment. You grab the notebook and turn around to walk back out, slowing down when you see Colby on his phone.

As much as you wanted to trust him and move forward, a part of you still had anxiety when it came to him with certain things.

You slowly walk over, "So."

He locks his phone and sets it down on the couch next to him, "Let's hear something." You sit down, facing him, "Okay. So I think these are going to go all in one song, but I so far I have I'm drowning in a dream I can't escape."

Your eyes can down over the page, "Then I have, ninety miles in the dark and family scars and electric hearts? I don't know there just something.." you look up at him, "That comes to me? I guess."

It was going so well, you didn't want to tell him that you were using your past times trying to make it work as a muse.

You weren't sure how he would take it, fine, probably. But at the same time, you didn't want to risk it.

"So Colby.." you set your notebook down, "I was thinking."

"Oh boy." He chuckles, "no, really. What's up?"

You smile as you move closer to him, "I was thinking that maybe we can.. grow.. more in this relationship?"

He tilts his head, looking over at you, "What do you mean?"

"I think you know what I mean." You look up at him, "I want more with you, Colby. I want to go out and be able to hold hands with you at a restaurant. I want to eventually get a house with you." You sigh, "I want marriage, Colby."

He stays quiet for a few seconds, "I've been thinking about it, too."

You raise your eyebrows, "Really? You have?"

He nods, sliding his hand up to grip your chin, "You are such a beautiful and talented woman, y/n. You genuinely surprise me every day I'm with you."

You smile and he leans in, "I love you."

You run your hand through his hair and lean in to close the space between the two of you, "I love you." You press your lips to his and move your head to rest your chin on his shoulder as he pulls you into a hug.

You glance down as his phone lights up and your heart starts racing as the name Serenity appears on the screen, "Who's Serenity?" You lean back and you can tell Colby is caught off guard, "It's.. No one, y/n. I promise."

You lean back and he tries to grab your hand, "Just wait.." you rip your hand away, placing it on your cheek, "Colby.. I thought.." you can feel tears burning in your eyes, "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"She isn't anything, I mean she was but-"

You cut him off, "When?"

"What?"

You raise your voice a little bit louder, "When. Colby, when was she ever anything?"

He stands up, "When we broke up this last time. I met her while Sam and I were in Georgia. It wasn't anything. I missed you, so that's why I-"

"You missed me? So you went and found someone to.. what, exactly? Distract you from the thought of me?" You throw your hands up, "Just when I thought things were changing."

"They are!" He says loudly, "They are! I haven't talked to her since the day before we left. I was focused on you because you're fucking everywhere y/n. but How can I get over you if-"

You raise your brows and he shakes his head, "No, that came out wrong.. I didn't.. I didn't it mean it to sound like that, I don't want to get over you." Colby walks over to you and you just stand there staring at the spot he walked away from.

He slides his hand up your arm, "I promise you it is and was nothing. Just a conversation.

"Did you sleep with her?" Your words are cold and you look at him. He shakes his head, "No. no we didn't do anything, and even if it did progress, which it didn't. Sam wouldn't have let anything happen, you know that?"

"Then why is she calling and texting you at three in the fucking morning?" You groan, "God, Colby. I genuinely thought we were going somewhere this time? All the times you showed up for me when you didn't before?" What was that just a cover so I didn't suspect anything?"

He shakes his head, "No, y/n. It's not like that at all."

"How can.." your voice breaks, so you pause, taking a deep breath before you sigh, "How am I supposed to believe you when you've done this shit before?"

"What are you talking about?" He tilts his head, "Please, tell me. I would lo-"

"Second time we got back together, I seen a Mariah on your phone. She was sending hearts, saying that if, and I quote, 'you and your mystery girl break up again, you know where to find me' end quote." You keep your stare on him, "we broke up shortly after getting back together that time, because things were getting too serious too fast, as you said."

"That wasn't.. she was.." he sighs, "We're talking about things over the course of a year or so, y/n. I didn't think I was ready to be with someone like you."

"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean exactly?" You cross your arms and he sighs, "Again, didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"Just go."

Your words catch him off guard, "Huh?"

"Go. Get out." You point to the door, "I can't..." you close your eyes, begging yourself not to cry, "I can't keep doing this. Shutting myself down, trying to change you or even trying to change myself, Colby."

"Who's changing? What are you talking about?" He steps closer to you and you shake your head, looking up at him, "I just.. I guess I just gave you too many chances and you literally ran through them all."

You groan, "Fuck, I literally have everything I could ever want, but it obviously still isn't enough."

"Enough for what, y/n? You're enough for me." Colby's voice goes quieter, "Please." He steps towards you, wrapping his hands round your wrists, "Can you just please, sit down. Read the messsges. Time stamps. Everything."

"I just wanted more, Colby. More from you. This isn't.." you shake your head, "I just want to finally be with someone who doesn't leave me falling asleep confused every night."

"No, don't let me go." He rests his forehead against yours, "I mean it. I'm serious this time. I don't want anyone else but you."

"Who even am I anymore, Colby? Honestly." You step back, pulling your hands free from his grasp, "I literally don't even know who I am anymore. A singer who allows someone to just keep hurting her over and over again?"

"Y/n." Colby shakes his head, "Just please, hear me out."

"You had the chance to tell me. When we got back together.. I told you about the guy I had dinner with. I didn't even want to do it but I was so pissed at you for that Mariah girl, I just.. tried evening the score but I guess that didn't fucking matter, now did it?" You pace back and forth, feeling like you could puke.

"The thought.. of you even.." you lay your hands on your lips, "Being with another girl is enough to make me drop dead."

"I was never with any other girl, y/n. You have to-"

You cut him off, "No. I'm done. I'm done with this grey area of us that can only be seen when it's just us. It's not what I want, you know what I want and you just..." you look at him, "Clearly arent on the same level as me, you never were."

"But I am." He pleads and you shrug, "sure doesn't seem like it to me." You sigh, "Just.. go. Please."

"I'm not giving up on us, you can't just dig another grave and let me go, not like this." He stays in his spot and you just stare at him, "Colby. I'm tired. I have a headache, I'm not... I'm not doing this anymore. Just please, go home."

"Fine. But I promise, I'm not giving up. I'll give you space but I'll prove that I want you." He grabs his keys, walking towards the door.

You want to stop him but it's like your body is frozen in its place. You can't move, no matter how much you want to.

He gives you one last look before closing the door and you immediately break down, falling to your knees and leaning up against the couch.

You're gasping for air, clutching your chest as you try not to cry too loud.

You wanted Colby, but you didn't want the hurt that comes along with it anymore.

A part of you believed him, but at the same time, a part of you knew that you needed to let go.

Then it hit you.

Turn the pain, into power.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Over the last two weeks, the only time you'd leave your house was to go to the studio. You had a new song in that was practically almost down.

A new single, and you had Colby to thank for that.

Other than that, you laid at home, in the dark usually just thinking about everything, Colby mainly.

It's been two weeks and you've barely made the effort to answer him. But you always do. Whether it's just him one word answers, or you wait hours, you can't seem to stay away from him no matter how much you wanted to.

That was until you got a text from him that set you off almost instantly, it feels like we don't talk anymore and you don't seem to care.

You sit up in bed, scoffing as your thumbs tap the screen at lightning speed. As you're in the middle of your paragraph, he sends you another text, I knew that would get your attention.

You clench your jaw. selecting your paragraph and deleting it to which you replacing with, what do you want, Colby?

He instantly replies, I want you to see that I love you.

You stare at the message, unable to come up with a response. He texts again, After your show tomorrow, I'm going to prove to everyone that I'm ready to join you in the spotlight you stand in.

You've been so caught up in your own shit, you forgot about the show you have scheduled for tomorrow.

Another sold out show.

You respond to Colby's text, what? Are you gonna join me on stage?

You laugh slightly as you click out of Colby's text thread and go to your bands group chat, meet me at the studio. We're playing that song tomorrow night.

Your eyes move up to the banner notification with Colby's text that reads, you'll see, baby.

A smirk plays at your lips, until you remember that you're mad at him.

Why you're mad at him.

You toss your phone down, getting up to change before you make your way to the studio.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You walk into the venue, looking around in awe at the place you'll be playing. Thousands of seats scattered all around.

You were in shock each time you stepped foot into one of these places.

"Can't believe we'll be playing here tonight." Lewis walks up, slinging an arm over your shoulder, "You doin' okay?"

You sigh, crossing your arms, "Colby's coming tonight, and he says he has something planned to tell everyone he loves me. I don't.. really know how to feel but.."

You look up at him, "The show must go on, right?"

He tilts his head, "He isn't used to being with someone as pretty and famous as you are, y/n. I'm not trying to take his side, but maybe what happened between you guys, really opened his eyes."

You shrug, "I love him to death, but if we keep going in this direction, I don't think either one of us will make it out alive."

Lewis snaps his fingers, humming as he thinks.

You smirk, turning to face him, "What are you cooking in that head of yours?"

"Da da da.. da da.. da da.. Will we both go home alive? It wasn't hard to realize, love's the death of peace of mind? Think we can make a song about it?"

You laugh, thinking about it, "You know what." You nod, "Studio session. You and me. Tomorrow." You point at him and look over, seeing Sam walk towards you.

You walk over to him, bringing him in for a hug, "What are you doing here?" He hugs you and sighs, "Had to make sure my two people weren't going to kill each other, you know."

"So you heard about the argument.." you step back, crossing your arms over one another, "Sorry I didn't.. call you."

"Colby filled me in." He nods, "Plus I figured if you needed me you'd call."

"I haven't talked to anyone about what happened.. I mainly out focus into a song." You look at him and he tilts his head, "Does he know?"

You shake your head, "But he will tonight."

Sam wraps an arm around your neck, "You people and your song making." You shrug, "I felt like I couldn't explain it, no matter how hard I tried, so I wrote a song about it myself."

He laughs slightly, "What's it called?"

You bite the inside your lip, "The Grey."

"Hmm." He nods, "I'm actually really excited to hear it." He looks around, "Can't believe you sold this place out." He pulls you into him, "I'm proud of you, kid."

You laugh, rolling your eyes, "Thank you. Thank you." You sigh, "So is he here?"

Sam shakes his head, "Not yet. He's coming with our other friends later on." You nod, "Do you-"

"No. I don't know what he has planned." Sam laughs, "Nice try."

"Hey, couldn't hurt, right." You laugh and look up at Hunter who's waving at you. You nod, giving him a thumbs up, "I gotta go. Sound check you know."

"So I'll hear a snippet of the song?" Sam raises a brow and you shrug as you walk away, "Guess you'll find out."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You bounce up and down slightly, taking a deep breathes as your nerves for this show are a lot higher than they've been for any other show.

Colby was in the audience this time.

Not hiding behind the curtain, off to the side like he has for every other show he's been to.

You wanted to know what he was planning, it's driven you crazy since he first said something about it yesterday.

"You're gonna kill it." Hunter says nudging you as he walks by. Lewis walks up, putting on his guitar, "It's just like any other show."

"Let's hope." You laugh slightly before putting your inner ears in, shaking out your hands before taking the mic from your stage director.

The band walks out into stage, taking their places and the music to the first song starts playing.

You put on a smile, walking out when you hear your cue. You move around stage as you sing your first song, waving to the fan.

You walk over to the mic stand, placing your mic in the holder as you finish, "How's everybody feeling tonight!?"

A massive sea of screams erupts in front of you and you can't help but smile, "Thank you all for being here. Another sold out show!"

You clap and the fans erupt again.

"I have something very special towards the end of tonight's show!" You look back at the band, laughing when the fans go crazy, "Too bad you won't know what it is until the end, "Anyway. Here's Like a Villain."

The rock music starts and you slowly head bang to the music, rocking your mic stand as you wait for your time to start singing.

Colby is heavy on your mind, so heavy you almost miss your cue, "Look into my face, then look again. We are not the same, we're different.."

You smile as you see the fans dancing and singing along. You absolutely loved being on stage.

You continue singing verse one, "You need a new clean slate without the dents. A place to put your pain, your consequence.. When you look into the mirror, are you even there?"

You take a breath, grabbing the mic off the stand. You bend down slightly as you belt out the chorus, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on.."

You walk around the stage as you sing, giving them a performance. You dance around during the little break, walking over to the other side as you start to sing the second verse, "So write a brand new page, then write again. I know your act is staged, yet you pretend.."

Finishing the second verse, you move into the chorus again, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on.."

You move back to the mic stand, resting it back in its holder as you wait for your cue for the bridge, gently singing, "Like a villain, I couldn't be I didn't need it, it needed me.. Like a villain, I couldn't be. I didn't need it, it needed me.."

It goes into the breakdown and your eyes scan the crowd and you see Sam and Colby standing in the VIP section of the pit.

Your heart skips a beat, and you start to sing again, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself.."

The song goes into the outro and the band stops playing and the crowd goes crazy.

That one is always a hit.

You felt on top of the world right now.

You literally did have everything, but you still wanted more, just like your new song says. Just like you told Colby.

You were nervous. The closer you got to performing it for the very first time.

You weren't sure how Colby was going to react. Sam was the closest person to him, but you knew he wouldn't say anything.

At least you hoped he wouldn't.

A few songs later, almost ready to close out the show, you take a deep breath, "You guys have been absolutely phenomenal tonight!"

You raise your hands above your head, clapping for the crowd, "I mean it. I think this is the best crowd we've had this year so far."

The crowd screams and you sigh, "Alright guys.. so that surprise I was talking about earlier.." you pause, letting the crowd scream, "Alright, so I may or may not have been in the studio these last two weeks trying to get out a new single, and let's just say.." you pause, smirking out at the crowd, "I've done just that."

You laugh, grabbing your mic off the stand and walking around, "This single means.. a lot to me, for a few reasons and I'm very excited to announce that it will be out...."

The crowd go crazy, yet again, chanting in unison, "Tell us! Tell us!"

"Okay okay." You wave your hand, "I don't know when it'll be out, but we're going to play it for you right now."

You walk back over to the mic stand, giving your band a thumbs up, and they start playing.

You nod your head to the slow moving, then quick to pick up pace, "Evened the scores, then I let it all go fall apart." You take a quick breathe, "And every step forward put a little more sword in your heart, yeah.."

Your heart was pounding harder with each line, "Looking sideways when I say I'm okay with the past But I'm afraid of what I might say if you ask.."

You grab your mic, walking to the left of the stage, away from the side Colby was on, going into the pre-chorus, "Gave you way too many chances, you ran through 'em all..Got everything I could want, but it wasn't enough.."

"Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call.."

You take a breath, "Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.."

"Yeah, I still wanted, more.."

You walk towards the right side of the stage, smoothly transferring into the chorus, "There's not another way, don't let me go.. Don't dig another grave today..."

"I'll make the same mistakes, I'll never know Who I was before I faded away.. Into the grey.."

You knew Colby knew. You were sweating.

You had a little break before you went back in for the second verse, "All of this time sittin' inside, sittin' in the dark.. And every night, I can see why you could never stop, yeah.."

"Lying is hard and the truth comes out anyway.. You're going way too far, gonna drop dead at this rate.."

You sing the chorus again before grabbing the mic, moving to the right of the stage, directly in line of sight from Colby.

You lay your hand on your chest, tapping it with the words of the post-chorus, "I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down and I'll never be the same."

"I did it to myself, tried to be someone else..And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.."

You drag out the last word and the crowd goes absolutely insane.

You smile as you sing the words to the bridge, then moving into the chorus one final time before moving back to your mic stand to close out, "Into the grey."

You step back from your mic stand and smile, looking out over the crowd.

Your eyes land on Colby and he's clapping and shaking his head with a smile on his face.

He pulls out his phone, turning around to record him and you on the stage. Sam starts smiling and laughing as he gives you a double thumbs up.

You blow a kiss to him, laughing as you wave and then suddenly the fans go even crazier.

You look down, shrugging as you ask, "What is happening?" You being the mic up to your lips, "Why are we having a second rush of cheering, I mean I appreciate it but, fill me in. Please."

You point to one of the girl's phone and security grabs it, handing it to you.

You watch the video play. It's what you watched Colby do, but you didn't know exactly what he did. You smile as you reach up to take your in ear out, "I have to be able to hear it right?"

The girls in front go absolutely insane screaming things you can't comprehend, "Okay, okay. Hold on."

You bring the phone up to your ear and you wanted to cry.

This is what you wanted all along.

Colby screams into the phone, "That's my fucking girlfriend." You hand security back the phone and the girl screams, "is it true? Is it true?"

You smile, giving her a nod, "Yes." You look up, bringing the mic to your lips, "Alright everybody. Thank you guys so much for a great show. We will definitely be back! I love you!"

You put your mic into the stand, waving as you run off the stage. You make your way back and your manager comes up to you, "Oh my god, y/n. That song. Top of the charts. You need to release it immediately."

You laugh, "I'll get it out tomorrow." You look over his shoulder, seeing Sam and Colby walk down the hallway, "Excuse me." You walk around him, making your way to the boys.

Sam gives you a hug, squeezing you tight, "Phenomenal."

You lean back, smiling, "Yeah?"

He nods, "Absolutely fucking insane." He moves to the side and you look up at Colby, "Are you mad?" He tilts his head, "Are you mad?"

You shake your head, chewing on your chew as you try not to smile, "No."

"Good." Sam lays his hands on each of your one shoulders, "Now kiss and make up." He pushes you towards each other and you laugh, wrapping your arms around Colby's neck.

You press your lips to his and lean back, "We gotta go. I need a shower. I was sweating because I thought you weren't going to like the song."

"I'll only be mad if it doesn't make top of the charts." He laughs, following you to your dressing room, along with Sam.

You walk in and go over to your bag, grabbing sweats and a sweatshirt, "I'm going to change quick." You walk behind the solid partition, quickly changing from your stage outfit into something comfy.

"So it was a good show?" You ask walking out to toss your stuff into your bag. You pull out your slippers, dropping them to the floor.

"Ten out of ten, will come to one again." Sam gives you a thumbs up. You smile, looking at Colby, "Ready to go home?"

He nods, "Yes. Please."

You zip your bag, walking over to Colby and taking his hand in yours. He gives your hand a squeeze and follows you out.

As you walk out, you see fans waiting by the one barricade, "I'm going to go see them." Colby nods, "Let's go."

You smile as you walk over, moving in between the two security guards. Colby takes your bag, waving and saying hi to the fans that call out for him.

"So you're Colby's girlfriend?" The one asks and you nod, smiling as you sign her paper, "I sure am."

"You looked so beautiful tonight." Another one says and you pout, "Stop it, you're so beautiful."

You turn, taking the one girls phone and taking a few selfies with her.

You do that with a few more and step back, "I hate to go, but I am exhausted. Thank you guys so much for coming out. I love you I love you!" You blow kisses to them and wave as you walk way, Colby glued to your hip.

"You're so cute when you do that." Colby opens the car door for you and you smile, "I love them. I want them to know that."

You get in, Colby moving to sit next to you.

"So. I have to ask." You turn to him, "Why now?"

He shrugs, placing his hand on your knee, "You wanted a huge gesture and our figured doing it at your show was pretty big."

You laugh, "I mean, yeah. And tweeting it.."

"I know we have some of the same fans so I figured if I tweet it, one was bound to see it and you know how fast that shit spreads." He squeezes your leg, "I'm just.. I wish I could prove to you how sorry I am."

"I mean.." you lay your hand on his hand, sliding it up his arm, "you're doing good so far... but I have a few more ideas.."

"Mm." He leans in, "Do tell." He kisses your cheek and you smile, "I'll tell you when we get home."

"But home is so far." He whines quietly, "Just one thing.. yeah?"

You turn your head, biting your lip as you look at him, "Don't push it." You laugh, pressing your lips to his and you couldn't wait to be home.

Soon enough, but it felt like forever, you and Colby are running up to the door. You work to unlock it as his hands slip under your sweatshirt.

"Almost.." You sigh, "Got it." You push the door open, turning around to face Colby as you walk backwards into your house.

His lips go to yours and your arms go around his neck as he kicks the door shut with his foot.

As you're making out, the post-show adrenaline wears off and you push yourself off of Colby, "Wait."

"Don't do this." He sighs and you shake your head, "How do I know it'll be different this time? How did I know that you'll be able to contain your jealousy and everything else that tore us apart before?"

A smirk grows on his lips and you tilt your head, "What?" He walks over to you, cupping your cheeks to give you a kiss before whispering, "I'm not jealous anymore because everyone knows you're mine."

He bends down slightly, lifting you up, "Now let's go get that shower, yeah?"

You smile, your hands on either side of his neck as he walks you into the bathroom. He pins you up against the wall, holding you up with his hips as he reaches in to turn on the water.

The bathroom quickly fills with steam as he sets you down so you can undress.

Hands are all over. Lips are kissing any part of your bodies they can get to.

It's hot.

He steps in, pulling you in with him and he spins you around as he closes the door. You gasp as your back presses up against the cool tile of the shower.

A moan escapes from your lips as his fingers move down to circle your clit, "F-fuck."

"This was I needed to do?" Colby asks and you shrug, lips parted slightly as you nod, "Kind of."

He hums in response, dropping down to his knees, "Or was it this." He lifts a leg, placing it on his shoulder before leaning in to lick between your folds.

Your hands move to his wet hair, tangling your fingers in as you arch your back off the wall.

His tongue circling your clit before gently nipping and sucking. You moan, tilting your head back as you close your eyes.

You missed him between your legs.

You missed him in general.

"C-Colby." You breathe out, "S-shit."

You look down at him, biting on your lip as you watch the image below you. His fingers dig into your skin and you roll your hips, "Yes, yes, yes."

He brings a hand over, slipping two fingers into you which earn a whine from your lips.

You pull his hair slightly harder which causes him to groan. The stroke of his fingers is absolutely perfect, he knows your body better than anyone.

"F-fu- co- col-" You squeeze your eyes shut at the pleasure of his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit.

He knew you were close, so he kept that pace as best he could.

Your hips buck out, moaning loudly as you push his gave into you, "Colby!" You clench around his fingers, your legs shaking more and more with each second you have to hold yourself up.

Colby leans back, setting your leg down on the floor but keeping a hand on your waist as he stands back up, "I fucking love you." He tilts your chin up and presses a kiss to your lips.

Your tongue moves in sync with his as he lets out a low groan as you wrap your hand around his cock, "Fuck. I need you."

You smirk at his words, "Fuck me."

He leans down, lifting you up and your arms wrap around his neck. He cautiously slips his one arm under your knee and you reach down to hold his cock steady as he slips into you.

You let out a loud moan, tilting your head back as you feel him rest inside of you.

"Look at me, baby." Colby whispers.

You tilt your head up, tightening your arms around his neck. He watches your face twitch as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in.

You keep your eyes on him, forcing yourself to keep them open as you squeeze his cock, "Fuck, Colby."

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours and you slide a hand up to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

"I love you." Colby mumbles against your lips, "It's always been you."

You moan into his mouth, digging your nails into his skin, "Don't leave me again." His lips attach to your neck, sucking a mark into your skin.

You moan, tilting your head to the side. Your eyes flutter closed as he kisses his way over your collar bones, making his way to the other side, "Never.."

He stops thrusting, resting inside of you, "I'm not going anywhere, and I plan on making sure everyone knows it."

You smile, nodding your head, "No more grey area?"

"Full on color, baby." He smiles and brings his hand up to cup your cheek, moving his lips with yours.

He sets you down, spinning you around so your chest is pressed against the glass shower door. His hand slides up to wrap around your neck, squeezing a moan from you as he slips his cock back in.

"F-Fuck." You whimper, pressing a hand to the glass and dragging it down. Your eyes roll back as he squeezes harder, cutting off your moans from sounded loud.

His thrusts are slow and hard, digging his fingers into your waist harder with each one, "F-fucking hell, baby."

He lets go of your neck and you gasp for air as he slides his hand to your shoulder, gripping it as he thrusts faster.

A string of moans and whimpers leaves your lips as his thrusts grow sloppy. He leans forward, resting his head on the back of yours and you can tell he's going to cum soon.

"Not gonna last much longer." He whispers, his voice raspy as he tries to hold it together, "Fuck, fuck."

"Don't stop." You moan out, "pl-ease don't stop."

You move your hips back into him, moaning loudly as you feel yourself growing closer, quite quickly.

"C-Colby!" His name leaves your lips in a scream as you cum around him once more. You moan, feeling his cock twitch deep inside of you.

You knew he came with you.

He lets his grip on your loosen, leaning up as he slides his hand down your back, "Incredible." He pulls you to stand up, his cock falling out as you turn.

Your lips meet his and he pulls you close to him.

After your shower, you walk out with a towel wrapped around you. Colby is lying on the bed and you can tell he's nervous about something.

"What?" You ask, stopping in your tracks, "What happened?"

He sits up, shaking his head, "Nothing, I'm just.. thinking.."

"Oh god, are you about to-"

"No, no. It's not what you think." He laughs slightly, brushing your wet hair from your shoulders, "I just don't know if this is the right time, but I feel like I need to just.."

Your heart is racing and your mind is moving too fast for you to even pick one thought to focus on, "Just say it." You blurt out and Colby sighs, "Fine. I will."

He takes a step back, getting down on one knee as he pulls out a ring from his pocket, "I don't even know if it's the right time but it feels like it and I jus-"

You cut him off by falling to your knees in front of him,  eyes glassy as you look from the ring to him, "Yes."

"I- what? Yes?" His mouth drops and he smiles, "You think it's the right time?"

"You told everyone I was your girlfriend at my show." You pluck the ring from his fingers, a smirk on your face, "Now at the next one, I can tell them I've been upgraded to fiancé."

He stands up and pulls you to your feet. He places the ring on your left hand and sighs, "I promise, we're going to work."

You look up at him, "We're endgame."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I hope you liked it. As always, tell me what you think. Thanks for wanting more from me. It means SO much to me! Love you all!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

Taglist: @fawned01 @theblackcatwitch @jaeyuns-world @littlec0ffeegirl @rosie-writings @nikkiwastaken @skyslondon @urmomsgirlfriend1 @this-is-not-eirini

[nonstoplover]

she broke my heart ~ daniel ricciardo (dr3)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

song inspiration: she broke my heart ~ noah schnacky

summary: the story of how daniel met that someone just because a girl broke his heart

words: 2.6K

warnings: the title is deceiving a bit, i know, but it is pure fluff really

a/n: visa rb kicked danny out and didn't give him the respect and the goodbye he deserved, so i had to write something to help with the pain and kinda make myself forget about what is going on with him at the moment. and what is a better cure than a short fic with some heartwarming fluff?

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

His friends invited him to go to a bar with them, but drowning in his misery, he felt like staying in. Well, that's what he thought at 6pm. A few hours later, feeling more bitter than he's done in a very long time, he realises he could do with the distraction.

He doesn't want to admit it to his friends, though, because first of all, it was him who was unpersuadable about going out, and secondly, they would just joke around, trying to find him a girl to make up for the void her girlfriend – well, ex-girlfriend now – left behind. And he definitely doesn't want that. It's been a week already, but the pain hasn't subsided. And to be honest, he doesn't want the pain to go, not just yet. It's a great reminder of what he's lost, of what he's done wrong. He takes the free time her absence means to reflect on what could've gone differently, if he'd just paid a bit more attention, if he was there more.

Or maybe there's nothing he could've done otherwise. Maybe it wasn't his fault in the end, but hers.

Deep down, he knows it was most probably both of them, but he would've tried. He wanted to fight, in order to keep what they still had, fight for them. She didn't, it seems like.

It was a phone call, a simple, short, goddamn phone call. He was just about to board the flight home from a long race weekend when it happened. Didn't even know what to say. He was exhausted, all he wanted was some sleep and then landing in his girlfriend's arms when he woke up, many hours later. He couldn't find the words, so when she finished describing what wasn't working in their relationship, he just hummed.

And right when he opened his lips finally to say something actually coherent, she just swiftly said, "there's no need to make it harder than it needs to be. I'll be out of here before you get ho- before you get back", like it's no big deal. Like it didn't feel like a twist of the knife on his chest how she corrected herself before she could've said home. The place they shared for two and a half years. Now it's not her home anymore, so it seems.

She really did move out by the time he arrived at his front door. All her belongings were gone like they have never been there in the first place. Like she never existed. Even though she was the centre of the universe for him, or so he thought. Now he's starting to see everything in a new light.

His whole life changed in twenty seconds. That's how long the phone call lasted.

And now, a week later, he can still hear her words in his ear, on repeat, echoing around, making him want to shout, punch the wall, kick the trash can, anything, just to make it disappear.

So he gets dressed, and goes to a bar – one that he knows his friends most definitely aren't going to be at –, and sits down at the counter, ordering something strong, something that will burn its way down to his stomach, melting away the painful knots in his throat and chest along the way.

After one drink, it only feels worse. He's looking at the happy couples dancing away on this lovely Friday night, holding each other, looking like they aren't aware of anyone else in the bar, like they're the only two people left on the planet. It used to be like that for him and her as well. But not anymore.

After two drinks, the echo of her words seems to quieten a bit. Some words missing from the sentences she said, and the blissful memories of their time together fading from the front of his mind that have been playing on repeat until then.

After three drinks, the welcomed distraction finally comes. He's not thinking about her any longer, he's not watching the couples dancing sorrowfully, he's just nodding his head to the rhythm of the music playing, his feet also tapping the beat on the foot-rest of the bar stool he's perching on.

After four drinks, he finally gets up, the fifth in his hands, though it's not the same thing anymore, he's changed his order to something more fun, something more unique.

What he doesn't notice though, too focused on the way the fancy little drink swirls in the glass, reflecting the lights of the dance floor, creating a tiny rainbow in their wake, is the person trying to move behind him

Daniel swiftly turns around, eager to get on the floor as a song he loves starts playing, and with that same movement, crashes into that person, all his drink spilling out from the glass, right onto the girl.

"Oh my god, I'm so terribly sorry!" he slurs, a blush creeping on his already pink coloured cheeks, just as she lets out a gasp.

The girl looks down, trying to see the damage, as if she's in slow motion, still recovering from the surprise of their crash. Her mind is just as slow to catch up to what happened, her lips widening into the shape of an O, when it finally does.

"Shoot," she mumbles – at least, that's what Daniel can read from her lips, as the music is way too loud for him to hear her.

"I truly am sorry," he repeats, and as if she only notices him in that very moment, she looks up at him.

"It's okay," she says, and suddenly a bright, warm smile spreads on her face, one that Daniel didn't expect. Not at all. He's figured there will be a long string of curses, an annoyed glance his way, eyebrows furrowed, a huff of anger maybe, then her storming off, maybe to the bathroom, to save what can be saved of her outfit. Instead, he got that smile, one that spreads warmth in his chest, one that makes his heart skip a beat, and one that he can't help but mirror.

With lips curving into his signature smile, he places the now mostly empty glass back on the counter. "Can I do anything to repay you for the mess I've caused?" he asks, turning his eyes back towards her.

"No, thanks, it's all fine. I was just about to go soon, anyway."

"I feel awful, though," he presses on, not really understanding why all of a sudden he feels scared about that plan – the one where she leaves soon. Maybe it's because if she leaves, she'll take that bright smile away from him, along with the warmth in his chest, and he will fall back into his depressed, desperate state of mind, drowning in sorrow. "Let me at least buy a drink, maybe a coffee, some other time, if you don't wanna stay here any longer."

She ponders about his offer for a second or two, weighing the options. Her friend has just called an Uber for the two of them, but she doesn't have to go with her, does she? She can stay a bit longer, it's not her that has to attend a wedding tomorrow, but her friend, so she can just go ahead, and she can stay with this handsome stranger. Maybe her top is drenched in something alcoholic, something that makes her skin sticky, she can already feel it, but it's not every day she meets a cute man, offering to buy her a drink. This might be her little meet cute, the one she's been dreaming about for as long as she's seen The Holiday, oh so many years ago.

"Give me a sec," she says in the end, turning on her heels, and making her way through the crowd towards her friend waiting at the entrance.

Daniel looks after her dumbfounded, not sure what's happening, and as the crowd closes behind her, he wonders if she'll ever come back.

She does, a couple minutes later – just enough time to make Daniel feel foolish for still standing around waiting in the exact same position she's left him in, but not enough time to make him actually do something about this awkward feeling.

His eyes light up at the sight of her, curiosity peaking in his whole body in the shape of electricity, or so it feels, about what she's going to say to his offer. Joyous, excited disbelief is still written on her face from what she's about to do, and in the next moment, she leans in closer to his ear. "I don't have to go, not really, so what was that you said about a drink?"

A mischievous sparkle in her eyes, and relief filling up his brain like fog. His much awaited, proper distraction, finally.

One drink turns into two, with the conversation just flowing. They soon move to a booth, to have a bit more privacy and comfort, and though they're sitting opposite each other, their feet are touching under the table, and they're both leaning in to be closer to each other. Neither can deny this magnetic attraction they feel, pulling them like one of them is a planet while the other is a meteor that can't fight the gravitational pull, both of them just awaiting that unavoidable crash.

Her fingers play with the empty glass, spinning it around, or circling the rim. He can't help but think about how much he wishes that he could touch those fingers. That he could be the one to stop their nervous – or excited? – fiddling. That he can wrap his much larger hand around hers, and see how it feels to have skin on skin contact with her. But it's only a wish.

He tells her about all the funny stories he can remember at the top of his head from the past couple years of his life, and revels in the sound of her laughter, ringing loud and clear even above all the noise and thumping beat. Tears form in her eyes from all the laughing, and she's clutching her sides, asking him to stop because she just can't breathe.

Daniel ends the story, and watches her with a smile on his face as she catches her breath, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. He doesn't recognise himself. Who is this person, and where's the heartbroken, pathetic remains of a human being that he's been this past week? He can't find that version of him anymore. A few hours spent in her company, and it's like she changed the person he was.

"Wanna dance?" she asks when she's regained her composure, nodding towards the dance floor.

Daniel raises an eyebrow, thinking of the question as more of a challenge, then nods eagerly, already moving to get up from his seat. She follows suit, and they join the people still dancing, sing-shouting the lyrics of a song he didn't even think he knows the words to.

He lets go of all inhibitions, and just enjoys being in this feeling. Who knows what tomorrow brings? Maybe he'll go back to his sorrow, pitifully sitting in his house, looking at the empty walls – well, empty except the nails that used to hold their shared pictures with his ex-girlfriend. That's really all that's left of her.

He's brought back to reality with her fingers gently touching his arm as she doubles over in laughter, and when he looks at her with a questioning look in his eyes, she just pants out "your dancing", pointing at him. He glances down, as if he could see exactly what she means, and though he's not sure what she found so funny, he just accepts gracefully that he's made her laugh, again, even if he did so unintentionally.

Hoping to be imperceptible in his motives, he moves closer to the girl with the help of his dance moves, wondering what might happen if he brushed his fingers against hers. In an act of who cares bravery, he just goes for it. She stayed with him for a reason, it's not like she doesn't want him to be there. And holding hands isn't that big of a leap to take, he's not trying to kiss her or something.

So his fingers move, and weave their way around hers until he's finally found a proper hold on them. She gives him a reassuring squeeze only a moment later, and her smile gets even wider, if that's possible. Daniel feels happiness fill his chest, a kind that he hasn't felt in a long time, not in his career, not in his personal life. Maybe there's a way to move past his ex and the past few years. Maybe all he needs is her.

And looking into those gorgeous, sparkling eyes, he feels like he's right. For once in his life, he's finally going to make the right decision.

Close to their third anniversary Daniel finds a little souvenir that he once got for his previous girlfriend, and the memories come flooding back. This time though, he's not filled with misery, thinking of all those months, and with a small grin on his face, he realises that his current relationship has already lasted more than the one he had with that girl did. For some inexplicable reason, he finds this reassuring. Exciting. Happy.

He slides down to the rug beneath his feet, pressing his back against the side of the sofa – the one he got quite fond of in the past few months, something that he won't ever admit to her, as she had to spend weeks to convince him to let her buy it –, and though his eyes are open, he doesn't really see what's in front of him.

His fingers play with the little figurine, and lets his mind travel back in time to that very day when he met the love of his life. All thanks to another girl he once loved. There's quite a bit of irony in that, he has to admit.

If he wasn't deep in sadness that day, being left by a girl, he wouldn't have gone to that bar. If he was still in a relationship, he would've been at home, enjoying time with his girlfriend of the time. Hell, he almost stayed at home anyway, in his sorrow, all alone. It feels like he won the lottery by that small decision that he eventually got up and went out on that fateful Friday night. He would've missed out on the almost exactly 1100 days of happiness he got just by knowing the girl who he spilled his drink on.

If there was still a her back then, and he wasn't single, there definitely wouldn't have been a them now. It's crazy to think, and makes him ponder if in an other universe, it all played out differently. He feels pity for the version of him in those other lives. This is definitely the best variety of how his life could have gone.

Then he hears keys jingling at the front door, signalling that this wonder of a woman he gets to call his own is just about to walk through and flash a smile worth a million diamonds at him.

"Well, thank God she broke my heart," he mumbles to no one in particular, as he pushes himself up from the floor, eager to see her as soon as possible.

a/n: i'm back from the dead again! gosh, can't believe how insane and busy this year has been for me, i'm so determined to write more now though, hopefully i can actually do it. until then, here we go with another short fic for all your reading pleasure! xx

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

taglist: @formulapierre

[goldsainz]

HIS LUCKY CHARM — one shot.

pairing: lando norris x reader

MASTERLIST.

summary: lando is disappointed you can’t make it to his home race, only to be surprised at the end.

request: “Hi! Could you write something about Lando and reader when she surprise him on race day. Lando is sad when she told can't do this on his home race bc something important with her work but after all she appears on Sunday on track. He is more than happy with that and archive good resolut be she is his lucky charm”

warnings: teeny tiny bit of angst, a probably not accurate depiction of the garage

NOTE: WHAT A RACE!! loved the lando+lewis podium, also oscar was great 🫶 anyway, to celebrate have this little thing, thank you sm for requesting bc this inspired me a lot (you kinda manifested the good result???) i added a shameless cameo in there, i just couldnt help myself! (the ending is rushed, ignore it😁)

[ word count: 2,2k ]

“I’m so sorry, Lando.” Is what you say to your boyfriend when you have to break the bad news to him.

“It’s okay.” His face breaks into a broken smile, with glossy eyes he holds your hands and brushes his thumbs up and down your palms.

“I’ll still tune in.” 

“I know.”

“I’ll be rooting for you.” 

“I know.”

You take your hands from his hold, and place them around his neck. You watch as his right posture lightly relaxes at your touch. 

“I don’t wanna miss it. You know I don’t.” 

You wish your job wasn’t as demanding as it was, that it didn’t make you fly to another country in the middle of your boyfriend’s home Grand Prix. But it does. And you’re not sure how to handle the emotional stress it inflicts on you both, and you sure hope it doesn’t affect him in a way that will mess up his race.

“And if I could make it, I would.” 

“It’s alright. It’s your job, I know it’s not your fault.” Even though Lando’s words seem reassuring, and he means them with his whole heart; you still feel guilty. 

With that, he stands up and makes his way to the kitchen of your shared apartment. You watch him leave, and with a heavy heart start to pack whatever stuff you need for your trip. It destroys you to see him sad so close to his home race, a time where he should be joyous, only worried about the car and nothing more. 

You’re not sure how you’re going to make it up to him, but you will.

Somehow.

You were being a little secretive, and you were sure Lando definitely noticed. 

Your boss and you had managed to come to an arrangement which allowed you to be present for the race. It would all be very tight in timing, but nothing that couldn’t be accomplished. It involved a lot of overworking the days before, but it was very much worth it.

You could already imagine the face Lando would make when he finally saw you. Whether he got a good result or not, there was no doubt you wanted to be there with him. 

It took a lot of care for you to arrive at the paddock almost incognito, with fans already speculating why you weren't at his home race. Thankfully no break-up rumours had surfaced, but there were a couple hurtful ones that made you want to be present even more. 

But you knew that no matter how much Lando acted like he was oblivious to what happened around him, his silly act was simply that; an act. You didn't like keeping secrets from him, it felt wrong to have to blatantly lie to him whilst everyone around him knew something he didn't. Still, it would all work out in the end.

Lando’s family had been so happy to see you in the paddock. His grandma (who adored you) hugged you as tightly as she could, quickly bidding you goodbye when you told her you had to go to the garage quickly to get prepared for the race. 

There was no doubt that the tingly feeling of nerves creeped up on you the moment you spotted all the engineers and people moving around, getting everything that needed to be set up wrapped up so the race could go smoothly. Zak was already at the pit wall, and Lando was sitting in his car ready for the formation lap to begin. 

At the garage you spotted Florence Pugh, who had a McLaren headset on. You had seen her on the paddock, but wasn't aware of the fact that she had come to the race invited by McLaren. You tried not to freak out, you saw celebrities almost everywhere when you came to races or went out with Lando. Still, the actress had a special place in your heart.

It took a little of hyping yourself up, and confidence to walk up to her, but you did. You would be sharing the garage for an hour and a half, the least you could do is socialise a little. 

“Hi! I’m Y/N.” You said to Florence watching her turn around with a smile on her face.

“Hello!” She says, greeting you like you were an old friend. “I’m Florence”

“You’re a McLaren fan?” 

“Honestly, I’m more of a Lewis fan.” She said with a laugh, keeping ehr voice just loud enough so you could hear her.

“I get that. I mean, who isn’t?” 

The conversation flowed for a little more until the race was about to start. You excused yourself and moved to an area closer to the screen, where you could watch Lando close-up. You loved being in the garage because of the different screens and the attention to their drivers, that allowed you to experience the race in different ways.

Your headset was adjusted and you were awaiting the moment where David Croft would say it’s lights out. Your knee was slightly bouncing, but you tried your best to contain the nerves. 

“It lights out and away we go!” Exclaims David Croft, his voice echoing through the garage.

You watch as Lando has a great start, and it takes about a second for him to take the lead. You hear the roar of the crowd before you can even react.

“Yes! Go Lando!” You scream, your voice doesn't make anyone flinch because everyone around you has the same reaction. It is a sight to behold, a moment you are more than grateful to see live. 

“I can’t believe it.” Someone next to you says, and you can't help but smile. 

It is no secret how badly the season started for McLaaren. You watched Lando’s smile waver more than once, his faith in the team never wavering, but still. He was rightfully let down by the performance of the adr,a dn you had to reassure him multiple times that it wasn't his fault. Because he was doing the best that he could with what he had. 

So now, seeing him get to this moment, is absolutely deserved.

A couple of laps go by and Max takes the lead for your boyfriend. There is disappointment in the atmosphere, but everyone knows that P2 is a miracle and that Lando is doing absolutely great work out there. They all know how great it would be to have him finish in that position, especially since Oscar is P3. 

Getting a podium in Silverstone would mean the world to Lando, Which is why you're worried about what will happen when they pit. Whatever strategy they choose will determine if Lando gets podium or not, and you will not pretend to really know what happens or how they come up with strategies, but you hope that they dont mess up his race because of wrong timing or choose the wrong tyres. 

As you watch his car race, you suddenly see on the screen that one of the Haas cars has come to a halt. A safety car is deployed, which means a couple of cars will choose to change tyres. The whole garage groans when Lewis’s car comes out in front of Oscar’s after he pits, now challenging Lando’s position.

It’s like you can’t breathe between those laps that Lando and Lewis battle for P2. Everyone is at the edge of their seats watching them race against the other, and you hope that this doesn't end up running both their races. The last thing anyone wants is for them to crash, because going from that position to a DNF would result in disappointment for everyone involved.

“Come on, Lando! Come on!” You scream, your palms intertwined in front of you as you watch him fight for his position. 

Thankfully, Lando manages to maintain his standing and leaves Lewis behind him for good. The hard compound tyres he was pitted for are giving him a tough time, you know that it is not ideal. Not when he could've lost his position, but with just 10 laps to go your faith in him is over the roof. 

You’re on twitter, refreshing your timeline to see if there is anything you missed. The fans are so enthusiastic, their comments make you smile. Even if there are people out there who don't like Lando, there are even more who love him and want nothing but the best for him. 

You watch as Florence is escorted out of the garage since she will be waving the flag. You watch her face light up in excitement, and in all her excitement she still waves at you. You don't waste a second in waving right back at her, turning your head right after to the screens.

The moment Lando crosses the finish line the McLaren garage erupts in cheers. You hug whoever is next to you, a teary smile pulling at your lips. You cannot help the tears that fall down your face, you usually don't get that emotional during a race, but this is his home race and he is on the podium. If there is any time to cry, this is it. 

You are almost running to the barriers, waiting for the moment that Lando steps out of his car and goes to celebrate with the team. You are wearing his merch, something that will surely stand out to him, enough that in his podium haze he will spot you. 

He goes up to the team, his helmet now long gone, and that is when he sees you.

You who told him you couldn't make it, are suddenly there. 

In a flash he moves in front of you. You cannot tell him anything because in an instant he is grabbing you, squeezing you so tight he lifts you up from the ground in excitement, you giggle right in his ear and he is sure that that is the most beautiful sound he will ever hear. He is careful not to take the barrier with him, not wanting a warning from the stewards.

After a couple seconds you pull back slightly enough to see his face. Your hands waste no time in grabbing his face and placing his lips right over  yours. Lando reacts almost immediately, melting right into the kiss, the adrenaline from the race still pumping through his veins. You can hear some cameras click, and the cheer from some people, but you ignore it.

You have to pull back eventually, not because you want to, but because there is so much to say and not enough time, not to forget the fact that he has yet to go to the podium.

“I cannot believe you’re here.” He whispers right over your lips, his sticky forehead pressed against yours.

“I couldn’t miss this.” You say, watching as his lips pull into a grin.

“I was pretty cool out there, wasn't I?” You snort at his words, separating from him but his hands never leave your waist.

“Oscar was really cool.” His grip on your waist tightens, “I haven’t properly congratulated him yet, actually.”

Someone from the team says something to him, you're sure they're telling him to wrap your conversation up because he has to go up to the podium. 

“You were great out there.” You tell him, your eyes holding all the sincerity in the world. You watch his gaze soften at your words, and he places a quick peck as he finally lets you out of his hold.

“Of course I was,” You shake your head at his smugness, “My lucky charm was here.”

You cannot help the tears that well up in your eyes at the softness of his words. You know that the celebrations and compliments are not over, but for now they are. You step back a little from the barrier, seeing as he is rushed to the podium and joins his fellow drivers on the steps. 

You smile up at him, watching as he grabs the champagne. He moves it around a little and then hits it against the ground, effectively bringing back the iconic champagne spike he does whenever he is on the podium. 

Lando sprays it everywhere, and you're almost sure a little hits you. Your theory is confirmed when he is smiling widely at you, like a kid caught doing something he should but isn't the least bit sorry. You laugh at his antics, which in turn makes him smile even wider (which you're not sure how it's even possible). 

When the champagne runs out, his gaze catches yours once more. You mouth an “I love you” to him, watching from afar as he blushes. A second after he returns the sentiment, mouthing it back and blowing you a kiss.

You thank your boss in your head for letting you be here with him, because if you hadn't been here with him you would've sure felt horrible for it. 

After all, Lando needs his lucky charm with him and you're more than happy to oblige to his wishes.