#I kind of want to sit and cry a little lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madamechrissy · 3 months ago

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Your best friend's dad Toji headcanons

Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x fem reader

Content warnings- ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS interacting with this, heavy NSFW! Big age gap (Toji late 30s, reader is 21) some manipulation (both of em lol) masturbation (toji) and oral sex (both recieving) obsessed Toji, the oneshot will be much more in detail lol. If you don't like Toji being called 'daddy' don't read lmao, taboo ass themes.

Full oneshot now- Daddy Likes Crazy Girls

Your best friend's dad Toji who used to be so affectionate, but the past couple years he's been... closed off, indifferent to you? He had Megumi so young, it was more like he played a big brother role, really, you used to talk to him about anything. But lately he just grumbles a hello and pats your head, much to your dismay.

Your best friend's dad Toji is so hot you've had this crush on him forever, but of course you try to hide it, and eventually you have it under wraps- when you're about nineteen or twenty you start catching his looks, the ones he doesn't think you see, and you may or may not wear next to nothing when you stay the night, just to sleepily smile at him in the morning, watching dark green eyes dilate.

Your best friend's dad Toji can't stop thinking of all the ways he'd treat you so good, when he listens to you crying about a break up, thinking these pathetic dudes probably couldn't even get you off, in fact he's sure that they haven't. You don't look well fucked, like you should, with your shy little smile and the way your tits just sway in those tank tops with no bras, driving him insane to no end, so that now he just avoids you.

Your best friend's dad Toji has lost how many times he's stroked his cock to the thought of you, especially when you sleep on the couch, you spend all kinds of time here instead of your dorm with your roommate who apparently always has guys over. More peaceful for you here, and instead of tucking you in he openly stares at your parted lips, at how your tank top twisted and your tit is almost out. He'd throw a blanket over you and head to his bed, stroking himself and trying to stifle the moans, picturing how he'd make you cum over and over again.

Your best friend's dad Toji has girls over at times, and you can't help but feel upset when you see them, which is so stupid, but here it is, these feelings that arise, knowing they're going on dates with him, wondering if he'll see you any other way. One day after a particular date he comes in the dark kitchen, startled to see you sitting in one of the seats, sipping on a beer. 'The fuck, doll do you ever go home? And are you old enough to drink this shit?' you uncross your legs, and damned if your shorts aren't loose enough that he sees a hint of your pussy. 'I'm more than old enough, you know, I'm Gumi's age' Toji scoffs, cracking open a beer and leaning against the counter 'yeah, a fuckin kiddo still'

Your best friend's dad Toji pauses with his lips almost to the bottle when you step closer, fingers trailing up his dress shirt, his dark hair falling over his brow as you tilt your head, looking at him for the first time how you've wanted to. You've lost count how many times you have played with your pussy, how many times under boys you pictured Toji instead. 'Did you get off, Mr. Fushiguro?' Toji sputters now, how you make a man like him speechless is diabolical. 'the fuck you say, doll?' Toji manages, and you smile as your hand trails lower. 'You've helped me so much, I could help you cum if you want' he scoffs, gripping your wrist then 'don't fuckin' tease me, won't end well for you'

Your best friend's dad Toji shows you just how well it ends, when you're on your knees in the kitchen, and he's shoving his cock deep in your eager mouth, fucking your throat so good tears prick your eyes. 'F-fuck... s-so good I.... shit...' he's stuttering, as you take his cock down your throat, your nails gripping at his thighs, looking up at him then. 'Gonna cum if you- stop, shit you-' you keep sucking his veiny length, throbbing and twitching as he yanks on your hair, pulling you off before he busts, just in time for the door to click, and you both seperate before a sleepy Megumi finds you.

Your best friend's dad Toji doesn't come to you like you'd expect, no he avoids the shit out of you even more, and soon you're imagining this was all some odd dream. He doesn't even acknowledge it, so you go back to dating your ex, and try not to come over anymore, Toji misses you, fuck he does, but he's trying to not engage with whatever demon mouth his kids bestie posesses. Toji even sees you out while he's on a date, his jaw locking when you're at the other table, young and seemingly in puppy love, your eyes lock when you see him, and Toji's date is fading into the background just a bit. When you get up to go to the bathroom, Toji excuses himself, just to come behind you and press you against the counter, barring you with his strong arms, as you murmur- 'Mr. Fushiguro..."

Your best friend's dad Toji mutters 'so did you get off on your lil date, doll? with the kid?' you hear it, the tenseness, the jealousy, as his huge, strong hands slip up your little black dress, and you whine out just a bit, before glaring. 'What if he did? what if he gets me off so good, Mr. Fushiguro- ah!' Toji's done with you then, he's got you turned so you see your own blush and glittering eyes in the mirror, slipping his hand down between your thighs and rolling rough fingertips on your clit, towering over you, taking over your senses in this bathroom. 'Bet he ain't got shit on me' he murmurs, before rolling your clit in circles and hearing you hiccup, whimper, head falling back as his other hand grips a breath 'tired of ya fucking teasing me' he then leaves you there, gasping and needy, sucking on his fingers and moaning about your taste.

Your best friend's dad Toji does not like it when you bring your boyfriend over, even if it is Megumi's other friend, not when you're sitting on his lap and kissing him while the three of you game, all giggling. He scowls right at you, only for you to give him a knowing little smile, one he thinks about fucking right off you, until you're just open mouthed and drooling. He's jerking his dick right off in the bathroom while the three of you spend time, endlessly thinking of positions he'd put his kid's best friend in, bend you over, drink your pretty pussy up, make you call him daddy. As his cum squirts out of his reddened, drooly tip, he exhales, trying to pull himself together, surely two can play at your stupid little game.

Your best friend's dad Toji starts to go to every one of Megumi's games now, he used to catch a few, but he loves to go every time because he knows you cheer for the team. You kiss your little boyfriend's cheek and bounce around in your cheerleading skirt, all while you see him with a new girl in the stand all the time, acting so unbothered by you. When you're asking Megumi about it, he shrugs muttering 'they don't come home after the games, maybe he's trying to look hot to the PTA moms? he's weird' huh you think to yourself, seeing his glint in narrowed eyes, which only makes you want him more, the shithead that he is.

Your best friend's dad Toji watches as you 'drop something' just to bend over in your cheer skirt, with nothing under it like it should be, making him lose his mind when you smile brightly at him, talking about a party all of you are going to after. Toji can't stand it when he's at home, waiting, imagining everything you're doing, fucking dying to have you, he jerks off so much it starts to hurt, and it's all your fault, which you would delight in knowing truly. When you come back over in the damn cheer outfit the next day, and Megumi isn't home yet, you sigh. 'Oh, then I'll come back later-' Toji stops you then, locking the door with a click. 'Oh you'll cum alright'

Your best friend's dad Toji has you up on his kitchen counter, thighs spread, pulling your panties up so that your wet spot darkens them, and he sees the plump lips of your pussy. 'real slutty, where's your shorts huh?' you smile at him, then gasp as he grips your chin, and your head falls back against the wall. 'I want you to see' you finally admit, and he glares at you. 'and why the fuck you torturing me!?' you gasp at him. 'it's you who torture me!' 'nah, doll, you know what you're doing, and I'm tired of it, gonna shut you the fuck up' Toji yanks your panties off as you gasp. 'gonna make you forget any dumb college boy has ever touched you' he says, before he sinks two thick digits, moaning as he watches your pretty face get fucked out.

Your best friend's dad Toji laps at your little clit, as your hands entwine in his inky hair, and he feels like it's so wrong, you're like at least sixteen years younger, your his kids best friend. Shit you practically lived here, but once he gets a taste of your slick pussy, he's done for. He's got you cumming all over his fingers in minutes, and you're drunk off it, as he keeps licking, scar brushing your inner lips as you pull him closer. "Mr. Fushiguro..." You're whining out, and he smirks, pulling back and spitting right on your pussy, watching it drip from your twitchy clit to your soppy little hole. 'don't call me that right now, not when you're about to cum all over my face again, huh?' you eagerly obey, earning his chuckle 'guess this is how I get you to listen'

Your best friend's dad Toji slurps up more of your cum, obscene in the little kitchen, and you're fucking his face, his fingers, all while his cock his throbbing in his sweats, and you're whispering 'Toji!' he slaps your pussy then, loud in the room, with wet sticky fingers, you scream out at it, cunt throbbing around nothing, ready to be filled by him. 'Please, please...' he chuckles again- 'please what, doll?' you're shattering as he scissors his fingers in and out of your soppy hole 'please fuck mee, please!' he moans against your cunt, rubbing himself where the precum has leaked out past his boxers and even to his sweats, nipping at your clit as you cum again. 'want me to actually fuck you, huh? show you how a man does it?' 'please Toji...'

Your best friend's dad Toji carries you to his bed, the place he so frequently pumps his cock to the thought of you, eyeing your already fucked out face, smirking down at you as he spreads your thighs. 'then need to ask me properly, huh doll?' you blink in confusion, as he leans over you, cock still under his clothes, gripping your wrists as you wriggle, aching for him. 'I said please though!' he presses a kiss to your lips, and you taste yourself on him, moaning into his mouth. 'say please 'daddy''

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#jjk smut #jjk x fem!reader #toji smut #toji x you #toji x reader smut #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #fushiguro toji x reader

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fromdove · 7 days ago

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MY JASON TODD PHYSICAL APPEARANCE HEADCANONS !

welcome to my ted talk. go ahead and sit your semi-literate goblin ass down and take notes, because i am about to paint you a portrait of this man so vivid you’ll think i dipped my brush in the lazarus pit itself.

HETEROCHROMIA. one blue eye & one green eye. im a very big and firm believer on this. this is my religion. this is my prayer. jason todd's eyes are my gospel, and I am the devoted disciple on my knees at the altar. he's always had them, before the lazarus pit & AFTER the lazarus pit. (although after the lazarus pit id like to point out that his eyes got a bit brighter especially the green!). i saw fanart once of this—just one image—and it was enough to send me into a trance. my jaw unhinged like a snake

LARGE SHARP ALMOND EYES. eyes sharp enough to cut!! real real real. sharp enough to gut someone in an alley. you get looked at by him and feel like you need to apologize for crimes you haven’t committed yet. yup that. they soften when he looks at you tho bc ur his amazing angel faced baby.

HIS GODDAMN JAWLINE. the kind you see on statues. could cut diamonds. so perfect. brutal. Pythagoras would rise from the grave with a boner, calculator in hand, shaking and crying overwhelmed by the sheer geometry of him. drooling. weeping & erect.

6'4!!!!!!!!!! MY MAN IS TALL. A GIANT. GARGANTUAN. and that’s the final word. idgaf. don’t come in here with that “canon says he’s 6’0” nonsense. fuck canon. canon is a lie built by cowards. they've screwed up my babies too many times to count. my Jason ducks under door frames and casts shadows over people trying to insult him. he intimidates every man in a ten-mile radius just by standing up.

BULKY. (not crazy bulky like those steroid obsessed body builder protein-powder-in-the-veins monstrous freaks but still jacked af. (like in this picture: click here and here) . he’s jacked like a Greek statue, like a renaissance painting of a war god.

white streak. white streak 24/7 for the rest of infinity. all night. every universe. every reboot. i don’t care. Non-negotiable. he got it from the one and only pit. he tried to cut it, dye it, tried everything to get rid of it at first but it just kept growing back and the dye would never work on it somehow ??/ so he just gave up lmao

OKOK his nose. my fave nose to picture jason with is an sightly upturned nose with a bump in the middle. do you guys know what kind of nose im yappin about? here is a visual: click here

ive seen fanart with jason with the j scar and i just think it fits his character and backstory. yes it was from that makeup-smeared tragedy of a circus reject. but fuck him!! this is about jason peter todd. my baby is still hot af anyways so.

SHARP CANINES. BITE ME WITH THEM. LORDDD MOTHERR GODDD. Carnivore-coded. was he born with them? is it a lazarus thing? either way theyre sharp little bastards. He tries to be careful, he reallyyy does but sometimes, mid-kiss, they slip. he nips you. he pulls back, eyes wide, guilt-ridden. you’re breathless. he spews like a million apologizes coz the last thing he wants to do it hurt u. but u dont care bc it feels so goddamn good... STOP ME)

Full lips that look like they’re always swollen from a brawl or a kiss.. with a slight cupids bow. god. yes. the corners/edges of his mouth are sharp (does that make sense?? help). he also has scars extending from the corners that look like smiles, they only stretch a few centimeters out. not that long at all. joker’s parting gift, poetic as it is cruel. OH AND he has the Toji scar !!! this one right here: click here

dark brown hair thats wavy & fluffy heeheheh (2c textured.) not straight, not curly, that luscious in-between mess that stays tousled and tragic and stupidly sexy no matter what. fluffy. thick. ruffles in the wind like he's some sad, angry prince. you run your hands through it and he pretends he doesn’t melt. he is NAWT a victim of the male pattern baldness epidemic. bye no no no no he doesnt bald thanks to the lazarus pit.

THICK DARK & FULL STRAIGHT BROWSSS. IDCCC THIS MAN HAS THICK BROWS. These brows have seen things. They furrow when he’s pissed (which is like always lmao), They’re intimidating, god-tier brows kinda brows. oh oh and theyre also kind of upturned !

his fingers. jesusususususus. Veiny. Long-fingered. Calloused. Worn. His knuckles are always scabbed (from fights). His nails are short, His fingers could snap a neck, but you just want them on your throat for different reasons. And the rings? Thick, heavy, sharp. Some brass. Some iron. they double as weapons. like i just know if someone pisses him off the rings are going to hurt like straight up fucking hell.

this man has long lashes. like long enough to collect dew. Thick enough to cast shadows. curled at the tips. his lashes are criminal. like wtf. theyre the kind that make mascara cry. they frame his eyes and face perfectly

scars all over. he has the autopsy scar on his chest, he has scars on his back too. his face, arms, legs, everywhere. bullet grazes, knife cuts etc..his entire body is a war journal basically

he has eye bags and dark circles which is a given considering what he does and his lack of sleep. They're not “oh, I pulled an all-nighter” eye bags, theyre bruised purpulish blue with a bit of red. u can seen some veins. his eye bags r a little puffy. this paired with his sharp eyes make him look very very intimidating to others but not to u, bc wdym intimidating? he's my angel?? he would never hurt a fly?? tf?

a few extra's!!:

A slight scar on his eyebrow from a fall off a fire escape in crime alley when he was 12. Never stitched it (despite the constant nagging from bruce & alfred). he said the blood made him look cool. (my angel baby i love him)

a voice that’s deeper than you expect. gravelly. like he chewed cigarettes for breakfast and chased them with glass. but it dips soft when he says your name. unbearably soft. traitorously tender.

faint cigarette burn on the inside of his left forearm. from back when he thought pain might be the only thing that made him real. said it was an accident. it wasn’t.

A barely-there tremor in his right hand. Old injury. Nerve damage.

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 10 months ago

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hey!!

could i maybe get a roommate fic where carmy’s getting ridden and about to come and has no filter so it slips out that he loves her

Baby, Please.

it’s been on the tip of his tongue for too long. it was only a matter of time.

roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. carmy’s a bit pathetic at some points in this (you’re welcome)

word count - 2.4k

authors note - ah shit, here we go again. I always end writing carmy as a little bitch in these, sorry lmao (i’m not). but here it is!! a love confession!! will they ever talk about anything, I hear you ask? we’ll see…

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.

Carmen automatically smiles when he hears your keys clinking against the lock in the front door.

As soon as he clocks it, he rolls his eyes at himself. You’re not supposed to get butterflies in your stomach when your roommate comes home on a random Thursday evening.

And yet here he is, sitting on the couch, trying to play it cool - as if he hasn’t been waiting for your return for the last hour and a half.

You’re usually back from work before he is, and suddenly he’s grateful for it. He couldn’t do this everyday. Sitting, waiting for you to come home as if you’ve been gone for months rather than nine or so hours. The apartment feels a little bigger, a little colder without you in it. Carmy wonders how he lived here for so long without you.

You swing the door open, kicking off your shoes instantly. Throwing your bag onto the counter, you take in the sight of your home. It’s clean, tidied, more organised than you’ve seen it in a while. Carmy’s been putting the work in while you’ve been gone.

“What happened, Carmen? Are you okay?”

“W-what?”

“Were you stress cleaning?”

He laughs, all full and warm.

“No, babe. Just regular cleaning.”

He rises from the couch, coming over to press a kiss into your cheek before slipping your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it up behind you.

“Carmen, what’s that smell?”

“Tomato and basil slow baked rigatoni. Homemade garlic bread. And then, if you have any room left… my homemade snickerdoodles.”

“Did you… cook for me?”

“Yes I did, baby. It’s the least I can do after you’ve been at work all day.”

It’s all so domestic, so thoughtful, so heartfelt, that you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. You step forward into his space, looping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. He grins at you when you pull away.

“What was that for?”

“A thank you,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I really won the roommate lottery, huh?”

“We both did,” he chuckles, covering your face in kisses while you squirm in his arms.

Eventually, he lets you go, but not before raking his eyes up and down your figure very slowly. He takes you in - your work clothes, the way your hair is falling out slightly, your bare feet. As much as you want to let him devour you, you’re starving. A different kind of hunger to his.

“Dinner first. That after.”

“What after?” he plays coy, trying to fight the smirk off his face.

“Don’t play dumb, Berzatto. It’s not a good look on you.”

With that, you leave the kitchen to get changed, laughing as you go.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You sink further into Carmy’s side on the couch, trying desperately to pay attention to the vintage sitcom that’s playing on the TV.

All you can focus on are the rough fingertips tracing patterns on the bare skin of your thigh. They keep getting higher, brushing the seam of your pyjama shorts occasionally. Every so often, Carmy leans in to press a kiss onto your temple, into your hair, behind your ear. You rest your head on his chest, soothed by the steady beat of his heart.

“That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I could eat that pasta every day for the rest of my life and die a happy woman.”

Carmy laughs, and the sound rumbles through both of you.

“I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You sit up, then, turning in your seat to look him in the eyes.

“Carmen. You cook for me almost every day.”

“Yeah, but… not really.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Most of the time when I’m cooking at home, I’m trying a new recipe, or perfecting an old one - for the restaurant. And then we both eat it for dinner. But tonight, I actually picked a recipe I knew you’d love, and made it for you. Because I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling as you do it.

“You know I don’t mind either way, right? Whatever you make is always delicious. Except for that weird duck mousse from last week. That was… awful.”

He shoves you playfully, laughing when you topple backwards onto the couch cushions. Climbing onto you, he digs his fingers into your ribs, chuckling as you try to squirm away from him.

“Stop, before I kick you in the stomach or something,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist to try and keep him still.

When that doesn’t work, you resort to dirtier tactics. You roll your hips up into his, watching as his face changes when he realises what you’re doing. The tickling stops, replaced by fingertips gripping your sides in a completely different way.

“Fuck,” he murmurs into your neck as he drops his head down. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Minx.”

“Well you wouldn’t stop, so…”

“You’re usually telling me not to stop, honey. ‘Oh, Carmen, don’t stop baby, don’t stop’…”

You laugh as he mocks you, half in disbelief, half in amusement.

“You’re such a dick.”

“You still want me though, huh?”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, tension thickening in the air. Carmy’s eyes go dark as he looks down at you, gaze raking across your face. You nod in response to his question, chewing at your bottom lip.

“You gonna let me thank you for dinner properly, Berzatto?

Who is he to say no to an offer like that?

You tighten your legs around his waist and pull his hips down to yours, flipping you both over on the couch. You settle with your thighs on either side of his, your weight keeping him anchored down to the cushions.

“You look so pretty underneath me,” you whisper, tracing the features of his face with your gentle fingertips. “Pretty, pretty boy.”

Carmy’s hips buck up into yours at the praise.

“You’re so fucking predictable,” you giggle as he groans. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Love what?”

His voice is all strained and breathy already, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Being my bitch.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, but his tightening grip on your waist gives him away. You lean in to press your forehead to his, breathing him in for a moment. Carmy tilts his head up to meet your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth as you whine.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, melding your lips against his. You let him explore your mouth, winding your hips down into him in a steady motion. You lean back to pull his shirt over his head, yours following suit shortly afterwards and ending up in a pile on the floor.

Carmy kisses his way across your chest, nipping and sucking as he goes. You’re way past the don’t leave marks stage. Neither of you care anymore. You rake your nails down his stomach, smirking when he shudders, goosebumps rising across his skin.

You tip forward to bite at the muscle of Carmy’s neck, licking a stripe up his throat as you go. He tastes like his minty shower gel and cinnamon sugar from the snickerdoodles. It’s the perfect combination to make your mouth water.

He tangles his fingers into the waistband of your pyjama shorts, trying to tug them down. You go to stand up to help him, but the whine he lets out stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

“Carmen, if you want my pants off, you need to let me stand up.”

“You can do it here.”

He pulls you back down into his lap, ignoring your raised eyebrows. You manage to slip your shorts and panties down one leg, rising awkwardly on the other to try and get them off. You kick them to the floor, chuckling as you settle back over Carmy’s hips.

“Happy now?”

“Very happy,” he mumbles, reattaching his lips to your jaw. “The happiest. Got the prettiest girl in the world naked in my lap right now.”

Heat rises across your chest at the compliment, head ducking down to avoid his eyes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, tugging down the waistband of Carmy’s sweatpants.

You pull them and his boxers off in one fell swoop, dropping them onto the floor. When you take him in your hand, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, looking up at you through thick lashes.

“Wait, baby.”

You freeze instantly, finally meeting his gaze.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong. Just need to get you ready first.”

You shake your head, gentle smile on your face. He’s always thinking about you. Selfless boy.

“I am more than ready, Carmen.”

When he looks at you with skepticism in his eyes, you decide to make a point.

You trail your fingers down your stomach, pulling them through your wetness when you reach it. Sliding a digit inside, you rock your hips, throwing your head back. You can both hear how ready you are, and it makes Carmy groan.

“Oh, fuck.”

He’s whispering in awe, careful not to spook you when you’re so clearly in your own little world. You add another finger, and Carmy has to grip your hips as hard as he can to stop himself from flipping you over and having his way with you.

You remove your fingers and shove them straight into Carmy’s mouth, panting as he laves his tongue around them. You both whine in unison. Always so in sync.

“I’m more than ready,” you whisper into his jaw. “Promise.”

“I believe you,” he croaks, wrecked already. “Please.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg.”

You line him up, sinking down ever so slowly. You want to feel every inch, every ridge, every movement. You don’t want to miss anything.

You both drop your heads back in bliss, chests heaving against each other. You’re adjusting, while Carmy’s trying to get a hold of himself. He doesn’t want it to be over too quickly, but it so easily could be if he isn’t careful. He runs his hands up and down the bare skin of your back, admiring how soft you are.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he says through gritted teeth. “Shit, baby.”

“You feel so good. So big, Carmen. Fuck.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you can’t help but tease, running your thumb over his bottom lip.

“Talk like that. Fuck.”

“Oh,” you laugh in fake realisation. “You like it a little too much, huh?”

He leans his head forward to rest on your chest, gasping when you lift your hips up to drop them back down. It’s all so slick, so easy. It’s like you’re made for each other, made to fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

You can’t help but want to push him a little further. He’s always so quietly domineering, so seemingly in control, that you love when he allows himself to fray at the edges slightly. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you off.

“So you don’t want me to tell you how you’re filling me up just right? That you’re so big, that you feel so fucking good? That I could sit here for hours? That I’ve never had it like this with anyone?”

Carmy’s hips buck up involuntarily, and you chuckle a little cruelly.

“Baby, please.”

“Okay, Carmen. Okay.”

You press a sugary sweet kiss to his lips before settling your hands on his broad shoulders to give yourself some stability. You set a steady rhythm, winding your hips up and gliding them back down with a clear purpose. Your knees ache, and your hips are being held open a little too wide, but you feel delirious with it, high off the pleasure. It’s good. So good.

“Shit, honey. Fuck. S’good, yeah? So good. Keep going, don’t stop.”

You’ve always found his babbling amusing, but right now there’s nothing funny about the way the sound of his voice pushes you undeniably closer and closer to the edge. You never want him to stop talking.

Carmy moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, rubbing soft but intentional circles onto your clit. It sets your nerves alight, whole body buzzing with anticipation.

You keep your rhythm going, even as it’s getting harder and harder to concentrate. You can feel that Carmy’s close, that he’s sitting on a knife’s edge waiting for you. You realise, suddenly, that you want him to come before you. You want to undo him.

You move one hand to tangle in his hair, while the other settles at his throat. You don’t squeeze too hard, just enough to turn his moans into breathy little ah ah ahs.

“Baby, please. Fuck, so close. So good, honey. You’re so good.”

Your grip tightens in his curls, making him groan. Your hips get faster, and so do his fingers on your clit, the pressure more insistent now.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, don’t stop baby. Fuck, I love this. I love you. Keep going, so close. Atta girl.”

Your brain is too lost in your actions to register his words. Instead, you press your forehead to his, kissing him gently in contrast to the violent slam of your hips. This juxtaposition seems to be Carmy’s undoing, his grip on your hip tightening so much you hope it’ll bruise.

He emits the most gorgeous moan you’ve ever heard when he comes, which sends you straight over the edge. You tighten like a vice, whole body shuddering with it. Your climax seems to last forever, every single one of your nerves fried and frayed.

You both come down slowly, foreheads pressed together and lungs heaving. You’re panting into his mouth, smoothing out his hair where your fingers have ruffled it. Carmy’s arms wrap around your back, pulling you in so you’re chest to chest as he presses a kiss to your temple. You sit like this for a while, completely at peace in each other’s company.

Eventually, after what could have been hours but was probably minutes, you break the silence.

“So we should probably talk about the I love you, huh?”

@jazminsjaz @buendiabebeta @kingsqueensandvagabonds

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weneeya · 1 month ago

Text

soft kissing m.list | rules

pairing. blue lock x reader

characters. sae, shidou, kaiser

note. kind of putting my stuff together with the bllk fandom, hope it's not too ooc and if it is, i hope that you at least like it lmao

Sae or a kiss for reassurance

Saying that Sae was popular with the girls was almost an euphemism. They were always swooning over him, trying to get his attention. And even if he obviously didn’t care at all, you could help but to get worried because of this.

It wasn’t really a lack of self confidence, you knew you were pretty and that he loved you but looking at those girls being REALLY pretty and having perhaps a lot more than anything you had, it kept on making you wonder if he wouldn’t leave you for any of them.

You were both sitting on the couch in the living room, his eyes focused on the book between his fingers. You were sitting next to him, fidgeting with your fingers as you were obviously stressed over something. Too bad for you, your boyfriend knew you all too well to not notice it.

“What’s wrong?” He asked without even looking up from his book, but when he heard no answer from you, he slowly moved his eyes to your figure. You were avoiding his gaze, trying to find the right words and clearly struggling. He frowned just a little, putting his book to the side. It seemed more important than what he thought.

“Do you think about leaving me, sometimes?” Your words hit a chord deep inside of him. Leaving you? Why would he be leaving you? The thought never even crossed his mind. He gently grabbed your hand, his lips meeting your knuckles to leave soft kisses against your skin. “Never.”

When he looked up at you and you finally met his eyes, you knew he wasn’t lying. But he could still see a flash of worry in your eyes, and he didn’t like it. His free hand moved up to your face so he could hold your chin, tilting your head down to make you lean closer to him. The way he softly kissed your lips made your heart beat faster in your chest, because you knew you were the only one being able to have this treatment from him.

“Don’t ever think I’d leave you,” he whispered in such a gentle tone after he pulled away, his lips almost brushing against yours as he spoke. How could you not trust him when he was acting like this. Nothing should make you doubt his feelings for you, ever.

Shidou or a kiss as an apology

He never really cared about making people angry, at least most of the time. It was more like entertainment to him. But if it was you? He hated it. He always had some trouble expressing himself in any other way than teasing or violence, but he tried his best so he could do things right with you. So making you angry was the last thing he wanted.

He couldn’t even remember what he did, but apparently it was really bad because you had been giving him the silent treatment for days now. No matter what he tried to do, you kept on ignoring him, not even looking in his direction. He could cry to be honest.

You were sitting on a chair, in front of your desk, when Shidou walked into the room. You knew it was him, because he was the only one walking in without even knocking at the door. You didn’t glance at him ; well you tried until you felt his hands on your legs, making you turn slowly in his direction.

He was down on his knees, his fingers slowly stroking your legs as he began to leave soft kisses up to your knees. Between his soft touches on your skin, he was muttering sweet nothings about being sorry and promising to be more careful.

“Please baby, don’t ignore me,” he pleaded silently, looking up at you to finally meet your eyes. Your fingers slowly reached for his cheek, brushing the skin which made him slowly move up so he could face you. He moved closer, his hands sliding up your thighs.

His lips left a quick peck against yours, pressing just a little to be sure it was real. When he moved away, a grin suddenly appeared on his face. You looked away, hating how easily he could go back at you. He grabbed you out of nowhere, making you fall from your chair so you would join him on the ground.

‘I’ll be good, I promise,” he told you as he nuzzled his nose against the skin of your neck, the smile never leaving his lips. You let your fingers run through his hair, sighing slowly. You couldn’t stay angry at him for too long, especially not when he was acting like this.

Kaiser or a kiss out of jealousy

He had never hidden the fact that he was a jealous man, even if he didn’t like the idea that he was this close to someone. Well, at first he didn’t like it, but now it was the least of his preoccupations. You were in the center of his mind and thoughts, and he always made sure that you were focusing solely on him.

So when he saw you talking with that random dude, he felt his blood boiling in his veins. Yes, you had the right to talk to other men, he wasn’t that possessive (perhaps he was, but he wouldn’t say it out loud). But you were laughing a little too much and he was a bit too touchy with you ; there was no way he would let this happen.

He walked back to you slowly, maybe too slowly ; he looked like a predator about to jump on his prey. He wrapped an arm around your waist when he arrived next to you, bringing you closer to him so the other guy’s hand would leave your arm. A light gasp left your lips and you looked at Kaiser with a little smile.

Before you could say anything, he leaned closer to you so he could capture your lips in a second. His free hand cupped your cheek and your own found its way to his arm, pulling away not so far after he kissed you. You turned your head to glance at the other guy, just standing there in disbelief.

Kaiser looked at him, slowly raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you see you’re not welcome now? Just leave already.” And the poor guy didn’t hesitate before he almost ran away from here. You looked back at your boyfriend, crossing your arms on your chest with a judging look as he simply shrugged his shoulders. At least, he had you all for himself now.

thank you for reading <3

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movingthisblogcelestialtarot11 · 7 months ago

Text

PAC: Random Messages for You

Hi friends! Thought I’d do something tarot related instead of astrology today. Do enjoy and let me know your feedback down below! <: it means a lot to me and this blog.

Pile 1: Hi there pile 1! You may be experiencing a disconnect within your home life, or not even that but a disconnect to spirituality. There may be a lot of shifts and changes happening in your life at the moment, and it feels as though there’s a lot of tension within you. I’m seeing a box and it keeps folding in on itself, imploding not exploding. All that tension is really sitting within you. I encourage some (I heard bath therapy) so maybe some of you like to take baths with herbs, crystals, and candles. Do that! There may be some uninvited energy around you at the moment. Also some of you need sleep. Rest. Stay off the phone before bedtime, and if you can, meditate! Meditation can look different, for some its sitting in nature, going on a walk, or laying there. There’s a really huge shift here—I don’t think you expected this ending to have happened either with someone you loved or this disconnect either spirituality. I almost feel as if there’s this longing, but also hopeless feeling of: “why? Spirit? Why me?” And I heard: it matters where you are. So, if you’re in an environment where there are people taking advantage of you how can you set boundaries? What do you need? How can you make this process easier for you? It’s likely these people or this place is contributing to your issues at the moment. I also believe spirit wants to let you know that they hear you and are there for you <3 “it matters where you are,” they know, they’ve heard your prayers. If you need confirmation this is it. Journaling can help a ton, there’s a lot of mental energy but in the sense that its squashed. Normally you feel pretty upbeat but it almost feels as if there’s defeat and its a little too silent with all the things you wish to say. Express yourself. Cry it out. I also heard hug it out! So hug it out if you can with a friend, hugging yourself, or hugging a stuffed animal. Yoga may be great for releasing trapped emotions in the body too. I hope you feel better pile 1 <3 thank you for your support and being here.

Pile 2: Hi there pile 2! Welcome! For you I feel as though there’s a lot of green energy around you at the moment. It surrounds you like a garden! I can see your aura with vines, curling up to protect your space and flowers blooming all around. So beautiful! Im also hearing it took a long time to tend to this garden, so you really did take a lot of time to focus on your confidence, healing and transformation. Im also seeing a mermaid emerge from the sea and she’s by the moon. She looks carefree! That’s you. I feel as though you’re learning to vibe with being alone and being okay with being single, although you don’t necessarily have to be. You may be in a position of power in your career now or in the future will be. Im seeing someone grab a book and write down all their ideas and goals—with this determination in mind to make it happen! You may be a fixed sign or have multiple (Leo, Aquarius, Scorpio, Taurus) and suddenly it manifests. This is the kind of success you’ve been building up towards. I also heard this is the success where I feel at peace within myself. Its not necessarily about external factors (although it could be like owning a house—I heard that) its more so the peace that comes with trusting yourself now after all these years. I also see your third eye is open which is revealing to you things that were hidden before. Hidden knowledge. Im seeing spirit is giving you these messages as if its sacred—you’re drinking out of a golden goblet and its this magical juice lmao. Some of ya’ll have very imaginative inner childs and love to concoct stories, so maybe your inner child is out and about! I legit see your inner child dressed like a diva with their sunglasses, sparkly pink kitten heels to slay the day away! So cute. I just feel you have mended that relationship sincerely. You could be a: pisces, pisces 5h/1h, aries, leo, sag, cancer placements. I also see this is an important time for harvesting results. I heard: there is result beyond fear. There is relief beyond fear. On the other side of fear there is joy. So perhaps this has been a mantra for you. I see EFT tapping therapy, so maybe some of you engaged in this. I see breath work, learning to work with your energy. I heard kundalini as well! So some of you may certainly be focused on spirituality and practices. Your inner child is so important—literally hearing their words of awe at the world. Your encouragement means so much to them right now, it’s as if they’re allowing themselves to express themselves again! Thanks pile 2 for being here <3 means a lot to me!

Pile 3: Hey ya’ll it’s 10:10 as I write this so there’s a strong presence of spiritual support! Love that. You guys might be a virgo rising, have virgo placements, virgo 2h, or strong mercurial aspects. An exalted mercury even! I see that for you guys there’s this hazy thick fog. It feels as though your energy is very much guarded and anyone who tries to come in is maybe hit with a wave of confusion. Kind of like they’re stunned. Its kind of cartoonish, and silly. But I see this as a protective mechanism! You guys have been focused on getting your life together especially your finances. You could be budgeting more, spending less, and overall grinding. Keep it on the low and hustling. I also lots of self care so maybe you’ve switched your routine, you’re getting your hair done, nails, lashes, etc. You want to feel your best self and Im literally seeing your spirit team cheer and fist bump. Its like they’ve been wanting you to love yourself and—“finally you got the message,” is what I heard 😭 I’m also hearing “pump it up,” I know its a song, its pop music, really catchy. There’s a lot of happy bright energy surrounding you and I think you’re really feeling yourself. And I think that anyone who tries to disturb your peace I literally see you putting on sunglasses to act like they don’t exist. I feel like you guys are also really funny which people don’t expect—you have a very dry humor and might be great and stand up comedy. I also feel your phone is filled with a bunch of memes to go on the daily. It’s on butt dial at this point. I feel as though you appear intimidating but you’re really funny, chill, and grounded. You may have taurus/Capricorn placements as well. Lots of earth! Maybe all your big 3 is earth. I feel as though you’re being told to enjoy yourself and have fun! Let loose and chuck the ruled aside momentarily. It wouldn’t hurt to let go. I think for so long you’ve been hustling and grinding—so its time to celebrate how far you came! You may attracting suitors or attention is what I heard lol, lots of eyes on you! Especially through this transformation. I see you going from alone to suddenly everyone is around you. So maybe you’re graduating, getting that promotion, it’s your birthday, or there’s an event coming up! This is really going to help you feel your best self <3 Im also hearing euro pop music, so maybe ya’ll are into that. And dream of euro pop blasting in clubs (bring back this era) I dont know if you know Inna and her music. “Hot” by inna is playing! But thanks pile 3 for being here! Sincerely appreciate it all. Your feedback means a lot to me.

Extra

Paid Readings 🤍

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slytherin-pen · 2 months ago

Text

Diplomacy Be Damned

pairing: Kallias x Reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: some fighting, burn injury, Kallias loses his temper to defend you, Beron being Beron

a/n: dipping my toes into writing about Kallias. i need to read up on some headcannons since we have so little canon info about him. dug this one out the drafts lmao

The halls of the Winter Court glistened with ethereal beauty. Walls carved from ice, crystalline chandeliers dripping with frozen jewels that caught and refracted the faint glow of faelight. The chill in the air was familiar, comforting even, though it did little to ease the tension rising in the room.

The High Lords had gathered again to discuss the threat of Koschei. And as always, it felt like sitting in the eye of a storm.

You sat quietly beside Kallias, your mate, the bond between you a steady hum under your skin, a thread of warmth woven through the cold. His hand brushed yours subtly, an anchor amidst the political currents swirling around the grand table.

Beron was speaking.

Of course, he was.

You had the displeasure of sitting near him, Kallias and one of his sons were all that was between you. On your right sat Thesan and Tarquin with their respective councils. The Inner Circle, Helion, and an empty spot for Tamlin across from you. The large circular table made of ice was designed with the much-needed space that was necessary for these tumultuous meetings in mind. Usually, Autumn would be positioned on the same side as Night, but with Lucien Vanserra’s new position as their emissary you convinced Kallias to rearrange the seating chart so the poor male did not have to sit near the male who caused him so much suffering, and instead next to his true father. You were reconsidering that moment of compassion now.

Arrogant and venomous, Beron’s words were dripping with condescension as he spoke of sacrifices and violence with the casual cruelty only the Autumn Court’s High Lord could master. You saw the way Kallias’ jaw tightened, the faint narrowing of his eyes, the only signs of his control slipping.

Across the room, Feyre Archeron sat beside High Lord Rhysand, her posture rigid, and nails tapping rhymically against the table as Beron’s smug remarks continued. You could see it in her eyes, she was losing her patience with him, as was everyone else in this room.

“If Koschei wants the Archeron witch so badly, I say let him have her,” Beron drawled with a flourish of his hands. “There’s no sense in going to war over one useless female.”

A burst of flames shot across the room, wild and uncontrolled. It was meant for Beron. You knew that. Everyone knew that.

But Feyre had still not yet mastered her aim, and you were sitting in its path.

The searing heat hit you before you could react, fire licking across your shoulder, burning through the layers of fabric, biting into flesh. A sharp, involuntary cry escaped you as pain erupted and you fell backward out of your chair.

The room exploded into chaos.

Kallias’ reaction was immediate, his power blowing an icy wind that extinguished the remaining flames. The chill of his power was a different kind of sting, but an improvement nonetheless. He helped you rise, his hands on your waist as he sat you down in his chair. You gazed up at him to tell him it was alright, to just adjourn the meeting for a moment until you saw his face.

Fury.

Uncontained, unrelenting fury.

His eyes blazed with a rage colder than the harshest winter as he turned on Rhysand and Feyre, his power crackling in the air like a blizzard ready to consume.

“What were you thinking?” His voice was a snarl, low and dangerous, ice creeping across the marble floor like the tide rising at a beach.

Rhysand rose, hands raised in a gesture of surrender, but there was a readiness in his stance. “It was an accident—”

“An accident?” Kallias roared, his magic lashing out, frost racing across the walls, shards of ice falling from the ceiling and crashing onto the table. “She burned my mate!”

You tried to stand, the pain sharp and unyielding, but Kallias was already at your side again, lowering you back down to the seat. His breath came fast, uneven, his fury battling with fear. The smell of your charred flesh permeated the room, even Lucien across the table wrinkled his nose at the all too familiar scent.

Beron, ever the viper, chuckled darkly from his seat. “Seems the High Lady still can’t control her temper. At least it wasn't my wife this time.”

That was all it took.

Kallias and Rhysand lunged.

Power collided—ice, darkness, and fire. Winter’s wrath and Night’s might against the burn of Autumn. Beron blocked Kallias’ strike with a shield of fire, but the sheer force sent shockwaves through the hall, cracks spiderwebbing across the floor. Rhysand’s darkness engulfed Beron, snuffing out his flames.

“Enough!” Helion shouted, stepping between them, his golden power radiating as he formed a shield around everyone else.

But Kallias wasn’t listening. He could only think to protect, avenge, defend. His magic surged again, colder than death itself, as he bared his teeth.

“Kallias,” you managed to rasp, your voice raw from both the pain and the rising fear of what he might do.

He froze.

Then he was in front of you, dropping to his knees, cradling your face in his hands. His fury didn’t vanish—it was there, sizzling beneath the surface—but his focus shifted entirely to you.

“Hold on,” he whispered, his voice ragged with emotion. “I’ve got you.”

With a burst of his power, he winnowed you both away, the freezing air swallowing the sound of shouts and curses from the meeting room.

He had taken you to your shared chambers, the familiar scent of fir trees and eucalyptus wrapped around you like a comforting cocoon.

Kallias didn’t waste a moment. He led you to the edge of the bed to sit and carefully peeled away the burnt fabric. The sight of the angry, blistered skin made his breath hitch. He strode into the washroom to retrieve healing supplies before returning to your side. His fingers hovered above the wound, trembling slightly.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as if it were his fault. “I should’ve—”

“You couldn’t have stopped it,” you assured, wincing as he dabbed a cool cloth over the burn, the chill both soothing and sharp.

But Kallias didn’t respond. He clenched his jaw, his eyes shadowed with guilt as he worked. He was meticulous, his hands gentle, as if he feared hurting you more.

After delicately applying healing salves to the burns and wrapping them with a bandage, he sat beside you, his head in his hands.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, it just tingles now. The salves are working.”

He released a sigh of relief. Then, softly, “When I saw you fall…” his voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. “I’ve faced war and impending death, but nothing has ever terrified me like that.”

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

His grip tightened, pulling you into his arms with a desperation that made your heart ache. He held you as if you might disappear, his face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

“I don’t ever want to feel that again,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

You pressed a kiss to his temple, feeling his tension slowly ease. “You won’t. I’m not going anywhere.”

#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fic #fic writer #kallias x reader #kallias #kallias x you #kallias imagine #kallias x y/n #acotar x reader #sarah j maas

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miupow · 10 months ago

Note

Ok so I saw you answer the Soobin’s housewife ask and now I need headcannons about being all members of TXT’s housewife.

ʚ・ ceo!txt + their housewives ! ꒰ sfw +nsfw headcanons꒱

cw // nsfw content , mdni ! housewife!fem!reader , dom!txt , kind of sub!soobin, (kind of) sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics, oral (f. rec) mention, spanking, oral (m.rec), semi-public sex, traditional gender roles, creampies, sex toys mention

♡ ⸝⸝ SOOBIN .ᐟ

-> first off, this man is beyond whipped for his wife. a complete simp. he lets her walk all over him and he likes it. he’s always liked a woman that’s a little more in charge <3

-> he gets her whatever she wants whenever she wants it, can never say no to her puppy eyes, so he always has to think hard on what to do for holidays… lavish overseas trips for her birthday, custom designer for their anniversary. only the best for his queen !!

-> he can’t even fathom how he got so lucky !! coming home from work to dinner and a kiss, getting to hold you close and wind down from all of the stress <3 dessert is your wet pussy sat on his face, you played with yourself all day so you’d be ready and eager for him by the time he came home !!

-> will talk anyones ear off about his wife if he gets the opportunity to lol, has your wedding photos on his desk and your boobs in his wallet <3

-> his wifey is a little bratty but he loves you like that !! thinks it’s so cute when you squirm in his lap and beg for whatever it is you saw online that day, loves when you get pouty and bitchy because he told you no! he wants you to convince him to say yes!!

-> riding his cock so good he starts crying out his credit card information lol

-> follows you around holding your bags while you shop, puppy love look on his face hehe >< always so enamored by you and your beauty, he just can’t believe you’re his !!

-> which makes him extremely possessive over you… he’ll get nasty over the smallest things, like a waiter being a little too friendly, one of his colleagues making glances at you he doesn’t like… will ruin you over it in a heartbeat, let them listen to you cry in pleasure as he fingerfucks you in the bathroom hehe

-> is definitely the most submissive to his wife but that’s just how he likes it!! maybe even submissive to the point he likes calling her mommy but you didn’t hear that from me being led by the tie wherever you want to take him, let’s you manhandle him however you want even tho he’s so much bigger than you.. he’s just so soft

♡ ⸝⸝ YEONJUN .ᐟ

-> second biggest simp for his wife. he can hide it a little bit better tho lol .. but still not well , he’s bullied for being a total lapdog

-> like you keep his credit card in your purse you’re so spoiled. you don’t even have to ask!!

-> unlike soobin tho he does not like his wifey bratty. you better behave yourself, especially around his colleagues!!! don’t make him punish you, now.

-> always has you sitting on his lap any chance he gets!! he just loves the intimacy of it so much esp when he’s working in his office!!

-> loves coming with you clothes shopping!! getting to watch you try on all these pretty expensive clothes and put on a show for him!! he hypes u up so much!!! and maybe fucks you nasty in the dressing room

-> always taking pictures of you on all of the vacations and dates he takes you on!! your personal paparazzi <3 a picture of the two of you on your honeymoon is his phone lockscreen <3

-> you didn’t hear this from me okay but ceo yeonjun who’s a big exhibitionist… make u get on ur knees and deepthroat him in front of all of his business partners!!

♡ ⸝⸝ BEOMGYU .ᐟ

-> his wife is a little shit and so is he lmao !! both of them always scheming .. you both love to tease eachother so much until neither of you can take it anymore!!

-> plays with ur pussy under the table during a company dinner… he does not gaf !! and equally you palming his cock thru his slacks when he’s trying to focus on work!! takes u on a date with a vibrator in ur panties !! ride his dick when he’s on the phone with someone important!! constant back and forth hehe

-> total switch vibes from him tbh him and his wifey always fighting for dominance over eachother!!! aughhshsh!!!

-> if you forget to give him a kiss before he leaves for work in the morning his day will be completely ruined actually. standing in the doorway like “you forgot something >:(“ and refusing to leave until you kiss him ><

-> letting you do his hair for a meeting,,, sitting on the edge of the bed adjusting his suit while you brush and style his shaggy mullet <3

-> the most thoughtful presents ever!! always coming home with something in a little box, taking you on day trips that are picture perfect and he’s planned to a tee (and maybe stressed out over a little bit) !! making you happy makes him happy :(

-> he’s always keeping your marriage fun and exciting, nothing will ever get boring with him <3 even after years and years together you still get butterflies <33

-> rich husband gyu who was a chaebol baby and grew up rich lol.. he doesn’t really grasp the depth of his privilege but you grew up poor and he’s dedicated his life to giving you anything you could ever want and spoiling you completely rotten <3

♡ ⸝⸝ TAEHYUN .ᐟ

-> tyun loves a good, traditional household.. and as the man of the house, his wife needs to listen to his rules. and unless you want to be put over his lap and spanked, you better follow them <3

-> always be respectful to your husband and his colleagues. keep everything nice and clean. no begging or whining, only good wives get rewards. no touching yourself without his permission. always ask if you can cum. it may be a little too traditional for some women… but you love it <3 tyunnie treats you so good <3

-> calls you a brat all of the time but he’ll turn around and buy you whatever you want lol, he just enables ur behavior . tries to be strong but he can’t help but give in to everything you ask! giving him pretty puppy eyes and asking him to stay home sometimes works a little too well ><

-> he’s the best at hiding how absolutely down horrendous he is lmao. but his hand always on your waist or thigh gives him away!!! he always ALWAYS needs to be touching you or he’ll die actually

-> loves going to the gym with his wifey so he can flex his strength to her hehe, also loves it when all of the other guys at the gym stare at you in your cute tiny workout wear!! he knows u look so sexy and he loves how the other men can look but can’t touch <3 and if he grabs on ur ass a little bit in the weight room he’ll swear he didn’t mean to.

-> hubby tyun putting you in a headlock in doggy!!!! your knees on the carpet between tyuns legs sucking his dick with him sitting back in his home office chair !! making him his favorite for dinner cos you know he’s been stressed at work and him rewarding you by bending you over the kitchen counter!!!

-> he goes away on work trips often and it makes u so lonely :( but he always leaves you sweet gifts and stays in touch over the phone… texting you when he knows ur needy to remember to be a good girl and not touch yourself until your husband gets home <3

♡ ⸝⸝ HUENING KAI .ᐟ

-> golden retriever boyfriend upgrades to golden retriever husband !! he literally worships the ground you walk on

-> you’re insane if you think kai is ever “punishing” or “putting you in your place.” you can do absolutely whatever you want and kai will just watch with big puppy dog eyes !!! you can be as needy and whiny and bratty as you want, kai loves it!! go ahead and whine about how much you want that new pair of shoes, he’ll get them for you asap!!

-> only the softest, sweetest, gentlest sex !! lots of manhandling but that’s cos he’s just so strong he can’t help it !! loves taking care of his tiny little wifey fucking her and filling her pussy up <3 covered entirely by his broad frame

-> often asks his older business partners (the other boys) for help picking out gifts and planning dates for his love <3 he just needs to make sure he’s giving you the absolute best!! he wants you to feel like a princess, a queen <3

-> kai who wifed up his secretary or assistant lmaoo !! he was told getting work and pleasure mixed up would be a bad idea but he just couldn’t help himself!!! and he def made u quit after you got married so you can just stay home and he can spoil you <3

-> he takes out all of his stress from work on ur cunt !! the angrier he is the more rounds he goes until your dripping his cum and too exhausted to stop him from going again and again and again—

-> kisses you awake every morning <3 rubbing ur noses together in a sickingly cute display of affection in front of all of his colleagues.. y’all make them sick lmao !! he’s always giving you hugs and cuddles and kisses, calling you honey, sweetie, baby, dear <3 hes just so in love :(

#txt x reader #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt soft thoughts #txt soft hours #[ 💌 ] — requests !#[ 💌 ] — anon!

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anifever · 11 months ago

Note

omggg I love ur Lottie!reader hc’s! Could you do one where the reader acts like Tiana? A super independent, great cook and no-nonsense gal with good humor is someone I think the whole gang would rlly love

Gang w/ a Tiana!Reader ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The Outsiders x Fem!Reader

୨୧ : Curtis gang with a reader who’s like Tiana from ‘Princess and the Frog’

A/N : Why does my theme mess up when I do requests kms. Once again, sorry if these are a bit short <\3 I have so many other requests I’m working on so bare with me

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🐸 ˚₊‧⁺˖

Darry

୨ IMO, he’d be the best choice for someone with that personality to be paired with

୨ The gang is terrified of pissing either of you off

୨ My ongoing hc/scenario of him = throwing flour at each other whilst cooking together continues to hold up

୨ He thinks you’re the perfect mix of sweet with a bit of sour

୨ If you have a little restaurant, etc; he’s always gloating about it

୨ He’s honestly a little shy about it like one of his coworkers asks abt you during a lunch break and he’s just like “Well….🤭🤭🤭”

୨ You guys both share your parents recipes with each other

୨ He’s the one who’s always cooking for his brothers/the guys, so it’s helpful when he gets a bigger range of things to make

୨ Also helpful that you offer to cook with him or just do it yourself sometimes

୨ He gets pretty worried when he notices you overworking yourself (ironic.)

୨ You both try to help each other through it and take some burdens off one another’s shoulders

୨ You’re both super independent; power couple

Two-Bit

୨ You love to cook, he loves to eat

୨ You’re his saving grace

୨ You also match his sense of humor which makes you the full package in his eyes

୨ He can’t compliment you without you brushing him off and he hates it LMAO

୨ He just wants to butter you up but you’re so humble

୨ Then again, he gets all shy when you start sweet-talking him back

୨ You spoil him with food constantly

୨ “Baby, you’re an amazing cook ‘n all, but I’m gainin’ a bit of a belly-” then you just shut him up by stuffing his mouth with more food

୨ You don’t gaf about his weight you just like coddling your funny lil’ handsome guy

୨ Like I said, he cannot stop complimenting you, like it’s impossible for him

୨ He thinks you’re perfect and feels the need to constantly rub it in other people’s faces that they don’t have someone like you

୨ Like he bagged a woman who can cook, is funny, nice, gorgeous, and stays humble about all of it????

୨ It will forever be his greatest achievement

Steve

୨ You keep him in check

୨ He can be such a smartass sometimes but he learned not to mess around with you fast

୨ Just sits and watches you cook sometimes because he’s so mesmerized by it

୨ He debates on stealing ads for your restaurant he sees around town since he’s so proud of you but then he decides it’s probably bad to lower your promo

୨ He says “There’s my favorite chef 😋” with the dumbest grin on his face whenever he sees you after a while of being apart

୨ If anyone dares to say something bad about you or your food, etc- his ass is NOT having it

୨ His smart-ness comes in handy in cases like that

୨ Like I said, you can handle your own and he’s lowkey giggling and kicking his feet on the inside whenever he gets to witness it

୨ He’s like yes!!!! That’s my girl!!! 😣😣

୨ Borderline moans when he tastes something new of yours and you can’t tell if he’s playing it up or being serious

Dallas

୨ You walk him like a dog I’m crying

୨ You’re really kind most of the time, but he loves that you’re also able to handle yourself

୨ Like going to Buck’s together and some guy is being weird, he thinks he’ll have to step in but you handle it just fine on your own

୨ He wanted you to have his children after that.

୨ Anyways, you’re also really caring over him

୨ Not to mention super loyal which he’s not used to

୨ You always clean him up after fights (not without scolding him tho)

୨ Once again, if you own a place yourself or at least work somewhere, he’s always showing up out of the blue

୨ He reluctantly agrees to be on his best behavior when he visits

୨ That being said, when he hangs out with Pony and Johnny, he’s always bringing them there for food

୨ He tries to flirt with you whilst you’re on-job and you do not have any of it

Soda

୨ He’s always ready to be a taste-tester whenever you try a new recipe

୨ He’s just so supportive I’m sobbing I love him

୨ You pack him lil’ sweets for him to snack on during his shifts at the DX

୨ He watches you passionately talk about cooking/your job with hearts in his eyes

୨ Whenever girls come into the the DX to flirt with him, he takes the chance to promote your business/the place you work LMAOO

୨ He worries a bunch when you start working more than normal

୨ He tries to get you to take breaks but then you’re like “?? You do the same thing with your job” and he’s just like “Ah.. well, you got me there.”

୨ Realistically though, he gets where you’re coming from about “the only way to get what you want is through hard work” and relates to it

୨ That still doesn’t stop him from pouting when you seem more tired than usual when you take longer shifts, etc

୨ You start helping him and his brothers out financially once you start making more money

୨ He cries.

Johnny

୨ You try to help him with his confidence since you’ve got a lot of it yourself

୨ You make him feel secure

୨ You’re also a pretty big inspiration for him

୨ He doesn’t eat great considering his living conditions other than when he goes over to the Curtis’, so he’s basically getting full course meals when he’s with you

୨ You encourage him to get multiple helpings/take a few bites before the food’s done but then scold the other guys when they try to LMAO

୨ “Oh, so Johnny can eat it early but not us??”

୨ “What- was I supposed to let him STARVE?!?! 🙄”

୨ You care about him so much and always make sure he’s away from his parents as much as possible

୨ You’re aware he can also handle himself the same way you can, but you’re still protective over him nonetheless

୨ You have confronted his mom before and desperately tried to keep your usual down-to-earth and kind demeanor, but it didn’t work. At all.

୨ You and Two-Bit are one in the same when it comes to that woman

Pony

୨ He is SCARFING your food down

୨ I’m dead it’ll be gone so fast, he can’t help it

୨ Loves that you’re so headstrong since he’s the same way

୨ Anyways, imagine he brings home a small box filled with something you made him from school & Steve’s like “Where’d you get that from?? 🤨” and he gets all smug about it

୨ He refuses to let him have even the smallest bite

୨ You get along really easy with everyone and he loves that about you

୨ You’re always sticking up for him if he’s getting made fun of at school, on the street, etc

୨ It makes his lil’ heart hammer in his chest

୨ He visits you during your waitressing shifts

୨ Like he studies and does homework up at the counter while you work and he takes glances up at you every now and then AHHHHH

୨ He also probably does yours for you depending on how busy you are

୨ You repay him with food on the house though 😊

୨ Darry’s always asking him where he’s been and he’s like “… the diner in town…🧍” and he’s still suspicious but he’s just glad he’s not getting into trouble

893 notes · View notes

jensthwa · 3 months ago

Text

mountebank chem: epilogue (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x afab!rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 7.08k

WARNINGS & TAGS: attempt !!! at comedy, dual pov (both yunho's and reader's), use of fem pronouns for reader, the morning after and the day after that. reader and yunho are very in love is lowkey kind of gross everyone, kissing, fluff, dream-talk, yeosang talk too! a little bit of angst if you squint, decision making and finally standing up for yourself is hard and reader is doing their best, sukwon being a good brother and making reader cry, gyuri being a little shit, wooyoung being a little shit, seonghwa being a good friend, happy endings let's goooo.

NOTES: hi everyone! here's the epilogue i promised! like i've said in a few asks that i've gotten, there's a little bit of the next story here, just something so you all have context of it before going in. i don't know when that one is going to be up (i'm not really far along with it) but either way i want to thank all of you for the patience and the wait! i really loved writing mbc:'). this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: february 20th 2025.

taglist: @kyunlov, @tinyelfperson, @0115degrees, @daniela-f-uwu, @ultrapinkvoidbouquet, @kyeomooniee, @fairylover68, @sushiinmidnight, @qveenbunni, @calmoistorm, @potatomountain, @svintsandghosts, @lemonkait00, @blue5ummer, @fancypeacepersona, @hyukssunflower, @i-love-ateez, @alsomimi, @e3ellie, @st3ft0n3s, @hotteokkay, @xylatox, @honeybeehorizon, @hwallazia, @mady-66.

masterlist - part one - part two. part three. part four.

When Yunho wakes up, rested and naked, the room is dark.

He turns to the side and the curtains are, of course, down but the thing is that he doesn’t remember closing them the night before.

When he turns to where you’re supposed to be, the bed is made on your side and you’re not there.

Strangely enough, he doesn’t panic. He is sure of what you both have, he trusts you enough to know you didn’t run away from him, from you two, again.

Also, he can smell a mix of coffee and the turpentine-like smell of paint as he gets dressed with his boxers and the slacks he was wearing the night before after picking them up off the floor and going to the bathroom to wash his face.

He pokes his face out to the living space and there’s a make-shift tarp on the floor, the furniture is moved around to make space for you and an easel. You’re sitting down on a wooden stool, painting away and he wonders if he just missed that last night or if he genuinely just passed out and didn't notice this much change.

He clears his throat “Good morning, princess.”

You jump a little, turning your head to look at him and there’s paint on your face and your hand when you wave at him.

“Hi, Jeong.”

“Seriously?”

“What?”

He chuckles “No cute nickname? Just Jeong?”

“Well, that is your name, isn’t it?” You turn back and he catches that you’re pretending to focus on your painting, but you’re repassing the same painstrokes as before.

“We’re going to have to work on it,” he lets out a sigh that turns into a yawn. “Sorry that I slept in on you. What time is it?”

“Around three.”

“In the afternoon?!” Yunho looks around for his phone but he locates the clock in the wall first and he confirms your words. “Princess, why didn’t you wake me up? We could’ve spent the day together…”

“I rather you rest,” you shrug and he takes a few steps until he’s behind you, his hands immediately reaching out to touch you. He can’t help it, he wants to physically fuse into you but he compromises with nature and just massages your shoulders. “You have sectionals in two weeks, right?”

He frowns at the reminder, a tiny smile on his lips a second later.

“How do you know that?”

You stop the brush on the canvas and then look at him again, eyelashes batting with fake innocence.

“I kind of bribed my assistant so she could bribe yours and now your general schedule is on my phone…”

He fakes a gasp and he marvels in the pout he gets in return.

“I needed to know when you were leaving the dorm this week!”

“So you could drop the gift?”

“Mhm,” you say, puckering your lips to ask for a kiss. He pretends to go for it and he truly pats his back for having a little of self-restraint when he dodges you to pretend he just thought about something.

“Oh! That reminds me…”

You huff in annoyance and interrupt whatever he’s about to say.

“How did you know my room number and who let you in?”

“I paid the receptionist and showed him proof that we were together,” he explains like it’s nothing and you huff again, amused this time. “Told him I wanted to surprise you.”

“That’s so irresponsible.”

Yunho reaches the box he left on the coffee table last night, opens it and pulls the polaroids out.

“You dropped this off without any explanation! What are these?”

When he turns around, you’re already painting again and he gets a five second look in his direction before you return your attention to your art.

“Oh.” there’s a smile on your lips Yunho loves, although he’s not sure if it’s because you’re doing what you love or if you got reminded of something. “I was hoping you asked me about it. I, um, stayed at a resort during New Years, in Gangwondo.”

“Is this the first time we spent Chrismtas and New Years away from each other?”

“Not the first time,” you muse and then shrug, “but definitely the first time in a long time, huh?”

“I didn't like it.”

“Why?” You look at him again and he sits on his knees on the couch like a neglected child, looking your way. You seem to find it endearing, because you laugh. “Because you didn't have anyone to kick under the table this year?”

“That has never happened.”

“Liar. Anyway, they have this winter festival that goes all the way until mid January and they have this… Traditional and modern fusion media dance performance that made me think of you. So I took some pictures of the dancers.”

“So you just put them in the box because you took them while thinking of me?”

There’s shyness painting your tone when you reply “Yeah.”

His heart thumps happily inside his chest and he gets off the couch.

“I love you.”

You laugh again “I love you too, Yunho,” and, as you shake your head a little, you look in the kitchenette direction with your lips pointed at it. “I ordered some breakfast that you can heat up or you can give me… Twenty minutes and I can change and we can—”

Yunho revels in the squeak of surprise you let out when he closes the distance, leans in and catches your lips in a short but firm kiss.

“We can stay in all day if you want to.” He says and you kiss his lips one more time.

“Okay,” you seem happy to have that option so he sees the moment you make the decision to not push going out at all. “There’s some clothes for you in the walk-in closet. I ordered them when I ordered all of this,” you point at the mess on the tarp and the floor, “I figured you might need them.”

“Thank you, my love.” He whispers and he pecks your lips before reaching for your nearly empty coffee cup.

“There’s also one for you in the—”

“I want this one,” he says, a sly smile on his lips and one of his hands returns to your shoulders to massage them.

He takes a look at the canvas for once and he notices that, what he thought was a solid background color and some structure, has actually started to look like the view in front of you both, with the Namsan Tower in the back.

“What about the CD?”

“Hm?”

“Your gift,” he reminds you, “there’s also a CD.”

“A mixtape, with songs that make me think of us.”

Yunho blows some air and he doesn’t have to look down to see you’re frowning at the sound “You’re a romantic.”

“Do you want to die?”

He laughs but doesn’t address the threat at all. Instead, the focus is on your art “The painting of us and the kids is beautiful,” he can feel your skin under his palm heat up at the compliment and it makes him smile. “This one is too.”

“It all just flows so much smoothly when I don’t have to think about work or being home,” you admit, your body relaxing into his when he takes a sip of the cup and brings it around for you to do the same. “I want to stay here, with you, forever.”

“And we can,” he murmurs into your head, leaving a kiss on your temple a second later. “If that’s what you want.”

“I want to move out,” you say, your tone full of wishfulness and Yunho takes in a breath at what that could mean for you, “I want to quit my job.”

“And what do you want to do for work, then?” He asks, already supporting the decision. “You want to paint?”

You shake your head, looking up at him, a wishful glint in your eye “I want to be an art teacher.”

“Oh?”

“Do you want to work for your father?”

“Not in a million years, I— Princess, don’t get mad for what I’m about to tell you, okay?”

You turn in the stool, looking up at him with an inquisitorial brow until he crouches down on the floor to meet your eye.

“My plan has always been to pretend to work and go along with him until I graduate college. Then, I want to move away. I want to… I don’t know, get disowned?”

Eyes widening, you take in a sharp breath and then cough into your hand.

He offers you the cup so you can take the final sip out of it.

“It’s part of why I went along with the PR relationship in the first place.”

You nod and he gulps, staring as you get lost in thought for a second.

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because I sort of planned to use you?”

“Not really, though. You wanted to use the relationship they threw us into?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s understandable, then. I… I understand.” This time, you’re the one gulping and he opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. “I, um, I’m not sure if I actually can go against my parents wishes and never see my brother again, Yun.”

He shakes his head. “If you think for a second that Sukwon is going to give a fuck about your parents feelings, you’re wrong. I… Me and Gunho are not as close as I want us to be, you know? But we talk about things.”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes,” his laugh lasts a few seconds only and then he clears his throat. “If there’s something I'm sure of, princess, is that your brother loves you with all his heart. If you want to step away from the family business, from your parents, he… He’ll understand.”

You nod again.

“And I’m not saying any of this because I want you to do the same things I want to do but I—”

You interrupt him “What do you want to do?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to work as an engineer?”

“Yes,” he breathes out and you smile, “but I also want to dance. Have an academy, maybe, but I need money and experience and a name.”

“You already have a name.”

“I need to make a name for myself, princess,” he explains and you nod like you already knew, because you probably did. “Get a stage name, maybe.”

“Ha!” you laugh and he raises his eyebrows, amused by your reaction. “Maybe… Yunho the rakehell? Yunho… Oh! Yunho the bitchl—”

“Stop that!”

It seems like that joke is never to die down and he’s glad, he’s glad that he doesn’t take genuine offense in it anymore and he’s glad it makes you laugh in a way he wants to record and play on repeat forever.

Grabbing his face, your thumbs brush against his cheeks and he can swear he has never felt so at ease until now. This, waking up and going out of the room to find you doing what you love. You, looking at him with some much love, it's hard to believe it took you both so long to leave your pride behind and work it out.

“You are worth it, Yunho,” you whisper and he knows right away you’re referring to the fight you both had at the office, “and I have no idea how we’re going to make it, but we are. Of that I’m sure, my love. I trust you,” you brush his hair back and off his forehead, “I trust us.”

He holds your face as well, the pad of his finger passing over the dry paint on your cheek.

“I trust us, too.”

Before he can react, you’re smooching his lips again and he melts into the encounter, the passion of last night bleeding into his movements once again and painting him red when he gets on his knees and pulls you into his lap in a smooth motion. You yelp and laugh and then you moan into his mouth when his hands find your ass and his fingers dig into it through the jeans you’re wearing.

Huh.

You’re wearing jeans.

They look so natural and good on you that he didn’t even notice it’s the first time he seeing you in jeans.

“Again?” You ask, already winded and clinging onto him for dear life in a way that makes him laugh. He pulls back and finds you shyly smiling at him but it doesn’t really help your care that he can see right through the act.

“Can you blame me?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Y/N…”

“It was a joke,” you grab his shoulders to shake him to no avail and then before getting up you lean in to kiss his cheek in a manner so sweet that makes him all giddy, like a fool in love. Maybe because that’s what he is. “Take a shower.”

“Take it with me.” He says, without thinking about it but one hundred percent meaning it.

“I already showered.”

He makes sure to scrunch his nose and make a funny face “Did you really?”

It’s not really a surprise when you turn around from your painting and swipe your brush across his mouth.

“I smell amazing and you smell like shit. Go and shower, Jeong.”

He enjoys ticking you off a bit too much. Either way he laughs, the taste of paint on his tongue when he does and, when he gets up and goes to the bathroom, he hears the soft sound of your giggle and his heart feels full.

And then you get him back like ten minutes later, by turning off the light in the bathroom and almost giving him a heart attack at the sudden loss of it. He breathes out an exaggerated sigh and, when you turn them back on, he turns around and watches you through the glass divider.

Unfortunately for you, the glass is frosted from his chest down, but you lean against the marble counter and eye him suggestively nonetheless. He continues with his shower as if this is the most normal scenario ever for the two of you.

It feels like it, anyway.

“Can I help you, princess?”

“Tomorrow I’ll go home,” you start, not a question or a request, but a fact. “I’ll go home and I'm going to sit with them all at dinner and let them hear what I’m going to do from now on. They don’t need to know that I’m going to take classes—”

“You are?”

Humming, you nod once and then twice after a second of looking at the floor, determination in your stare when you look up at him again. “I’m going to get a bachelor’s in art education, maybe just art first. It’ll take time but…” You shrug.

“But you’ll be doing what makes you happy.” He finishes for you.

“Yeah,” you return softly, “and I'll be detached from my family’s hip eventually.”

“One will argue,” he says, closing his eyes to avoid shampoo to get into them, “that you’re already pretty independent.”

“While doing my work and my brother’s work, sure,” you smile, “but not when it comes to living on my own.”

An idea crosses his mind and colors his cheeks, so he hums “You’ll be lonely.”

“I already feel that way at home… But I do love the idea of having a space all for myself.”

He hums again and then wipes the water from his eyes to send you a look.

“How much do you love it?”

“Jeong,” you say, laughing when you finally get what he’s suggesting, “we’re not moving in together.”

He pouts.

“Yet.”

He smiles at you again.

“Besides,” turning around, you let out a tired sigh when you catch the paint on your face and then you open the faucet to clean it off, “then Yeosang would miss you too much and he’ll blame me. I don’t want your friend to hate me.”

“He would never—”

You don’t let him dismantle your excuses “What is he up to with that documentary, anyway?”

He closes the shower and reaches for a towel the next second, not even bothering fully covering himself up when he gets out and you send him a look through the mirror, one he can’t decide if it’s in reproach or if it’s charged with something else. Probably both.

But he plays coy and tries his best to answer your question as he secures the towel around his hips.

“He’s doing this documentary about dance, he’s been working on it for a while. Obviously I’m the star of it,” he watches you roll your eyes and he bumps your arm with his in retaliation. “But my co-stars are taking all of his attention now. It’s kind of annoying.”

“And he finds them— your co-stars I mean,” your eyes roll again, “at the club?”

Yunho barely helps the laugh that spills out of his lips.

“No, um, that’s a completely different story. He keeps saying that he needs to film this one girl for the documentary but we all stopped believing him when he almost got beat up for filming her,” he explains, his hands brushing his wet hair back, “and he went back to do it again anyway.”

Your hip connects to the countertop again, your back to the mirror “So he’s in love?”

“I don’t think so. I think he’s… Intrigued.”

“Is she an exotic dancer or something?”

“What?”

“What?” you return, shrugging, “nothing wrong with stripping for a living.”

“I know, that’s not what I meant—”

“Do you have something against strippers, Yunho?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“N-no, of course I—”

“Oh, you don’t?”

“Princess…” He breathes out another laugh, a nervous chuckle this time. “Stop teasing me.”

Your frown slowly breaks into a smile and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“But you look so cute when you’re flustered!”

He stops messing with his hair to grab your hips and make sure you have nowhere to go, trapped between his body and the cold marble behind you.

“I’m not cute,” he says, low, almost in a whisper, “and I showered.”

“Yunho… Are you not hungry at all? You have to eat something.”

He wants to laugh again but he stops himself, his hands roaming your front and slipping to your legs when he kneels a little “Hm, I’m starving.”

Gasping when he kisses your middle through your shirt, you push him away with feign distress written all over your expression.

“Jeong!”

He gets back up again “What?”

“Are you going to be this much of a troublemaker when we live together? I have things to do!”

He stops, his hands holding your hips still and then you gasp again when he tugs and presses you against his body.

“You said when.”

You gulp “I know what I said.”

“You’re making plans for the future and I’m in them.”

“Well,” you titter with a nervous glint in your eye, but your chin is up the next second, “you know what? Yeah. Yes, I am, because I love—”

He presses his lips against yours before you finish your sentence and when he pulls away you push on his chest again.

“Annoying.” You say but you don’t mean it and he laughs, his arms going around you before you melt into his embrace fully.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Mhm.”

You think about it, he can feel you thinking as he rocks you both from side to side “No,” you finally say, in a whisper and then your next words come out firmer. “No, I need to do this on my own. I would love to see you later tomorrow night, though.”

“Hm, I have practice and then I promised to help Gyuri move in with Wooyoung but I can tell them that I’m in love and busy.”

“No, no,” you pull back, smiling a little, “Can I… I mean, I can help.”

He smiles as well “You want to?”

You nod.

“She has a bunch of shit but San is moving most of the stuff because, partially, it’s his fault she has to move, so.”

“Hm, how so?”

“Gyuri and his girlfriend live together, for years now, and now they want to move in with each other so Gyuri is forced to live with the embodiment of mischief while she finds an apartment she can afford.”

You laugh “I don’t think it bothers her that much.”

“Why?” He frowns and, at his question, you give him an incredulous look. “Why?”

“Baby, oh my God.”

He lets you go and you push him away fully, getting out of the bathroom.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Figure it out, dummy!”

He’s truly, genuinely and utterly confused, but the smile on his face hardly goes down as he watches you sit down in front of your painting again, from the bathroom door’s threshold.

And his heart aches for the pain you’re probably going to endure the next day.

When you enter the code to your front door, bag in hand, it’s almost lunch time. You didn’t let them know you’ll be returning today but you’re sure the way your suitcase falls at the dining room’s entrance is enough to alert them. Sukwon jumps a little, your mother lets out a scream and your father looks up from his phone slowly, gives you a look, and then looks back down.

“Oh, great, you’re back. Y/N, next time would you please let me know when you’re showing up so I can schedule your appointments accordingly— Kim Y/N!”

Your mother's scandalized scream is not what surprises you. What surprises you is the hug Sukwon gets up to give you, a tight squeeze that you smile into and then make a face at when he pulls away.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers to just you. “Don’t let her tell you otherwise.”

Nodding, you finally face your mother whose jaw is almost hitting the floor by now. Your father, as usual, is unbothered and tapping his fingers against the glass of the table, impatiently waiting for his food.

“Why do you mutilate yourself like this? And without notifying your team, nonetheless! We’ll have to… Get you some hair extensions for the shoot that you have—”

“No.”

She pauses, her jaw ticking and her eyebrow raising in warning. A few months ago, the mere thought of upsetting her would’ve sent you into a panic attack. Now, you stand your ground and curve your lips with pride, lift your chin up with courage and hold the handle of your suitcase a little tighter because you need it, because your hands tremble a little.

“Excuse me?”

“I said no,” you repeat yourself and your tone gains you your father's attention. “I’m sure the public can survive a haircut, mom. Can you?”

“Kim Y/N do not talk to me like that!”

She steps your way and your brother steps a side, giving you a wide eyed look that can only mean a here she goes again and you purse your lips to stop yourself from nervously laughing at it.

“You cut your hair, you leave for three months and come back all… All chubby,” oh, my god, “and you dare to speak to me that way?!”

The mention of your weight does send a little panic cruising through you. It has your father huffing from his seat and your brother snapping his head rapidly in your mother’s direction, a frown creasing his eyebrows and you can tell he’s about to say something but you stop him with a shake of your head.

And then you laugh.

You taste something bitter in your mouth and you can see the exact moment she notices her words are not affecting you the way they usually do.

“I think it’s time I move out,” you start, with a tiny, sardonic smile on your lips, “and I also think it is also time you think about the way you speak to me, mother. And I think you,” you turn to your father, “need to think about all the times you allowed her to talk to me that way.”

Your dad looks up, raises his eyebrows, hums and then looks back down again.

“Sure thing.” He says.

“What is happening right now?” your mother asks, a nervous chuckle coming out of her and after that she moves her hand, dismissing your point and turning to go to her seat again. “You’re talking nonsense. Go upstairs and wash. You’re obviously not having dinner, I hope.”

She’s always doing it on purpose, bringing you down like that on purpose, but right now? Right now she craves vengeance. You notice it in the way she looks for your reaction when she looks up.

“I am having dinner. Not here, not with you, not anymore.”

Your mother sighs, rubs her forehead with her thumb and her index “Kim Y/N, I beg, stop terrorizing me and—”

“She’s moving in with me.”

You turn to Sukwon, he gives you a look to signal you to follow his lead.

“She’s a little bit too grown up and independent to live under your roof still, mom. Dad?” He asks and your father looks up. “Don’t you agree?”

“Well,” your father cleans his throat, his back hitting the back of his chair as he thinks it over, “she is capable of being on her own. Besides, her room can make a wonderful office for you, dear.”

“Her room is staying hers because she’s not going anywhere!” Your mom stands up again, voice dark and tone painted over with something you’ve never even heard before. Not coming from her, at least: Fear. “Why do you suddenly want to move out? Is there…” She closes her mouth and then gulps, breathing out a laugh the next second. “Are you running away with someone, Y/N? Is that it? Did you fall in love on your little trip? You’re promised to someone!”

“Promised? I am not promised because we’re in the twenty-first century, mom!”

“To Yunho, Y/N! Don’t be stupid and tell your little fling to get lost!”

“Mom…” Sukwon warns but she laughs again, indignant.

“What? She knows this already. How would the Jeong’s feel if—”

“I don’t care what they feel!”

Your voice resonates in the room, it shuts everyone up, it makes your mom take a step back and your father blocks his phone, finally interested in what’s going on.

“I am with Yunho.”

Your mother smiles a second too late at what you said and opens her mouth, but you interrupt whatever nonsense she’s about to spew out.

“I am with him but not because you or his mother planned it. I’m not trying to fullfill your little fucked up fantasy—”

“Y/N!” She gasps at the cursing but you continue nonetheless.

“I am with him because I love him. I love him and he loves me and we are together because, against all odds, we ended up bonding and finding comfort and solace in each other. We made the choice, we did,” you insist on it, to let her know that it doesn’t matter if you two being together is exactly what she wanted, the final say is on you and Yunho alone. “I have something you two could never have and that’s companionship and true understanding that’s not rutted in power or in money. He… He made me realize we’re so much more than this.” You move your hands in the space between you and the rest of the room and your father hums a bitter sound in return.

“This,” your father gets up from his seat, hands going in the pockets of his dress pants and eyebrows raised with a sardonic edge to them that pisses you off, “is your family.”

“I know and that makes it worse,” you nod and the slow anger showing in his expressions grows just a tad bit more, so you go on before anyone else can interrupt you again. “Here’s what’s going to happen from now on, dad; If you want me to, I’ll keep working at the company, but Sukwon's responsibilities are solely his from now on,” you turn to your brother and he gives a fake pout but then he nods. “My job is simple, my job should allow me to focus on what I really want and, once I get what I really want, I'll make sure to find someone who can fit my spot so seemingly you won't even notice I'm gone.”

“I thought that what you wanted was to work for this company, Y/N.” Your father says.

“I thought so too,” you murmur back to him before shrugging, “but now I’m not so sure.”

A bit of pregnant silence passes. The air feels thick now that you told them your terms, your plan or what you allowed them to hear of it anyways. Like you told your boyfriend, there’s no need for them to know that you want to take classes or teach.

You’ll just do it. No need for their approval.

But your mother still grasps at the control she had on you three months ago. She holds on to it, desperately and, if you were someone else and the situation was any different, you would probably admire the strength it takes to stay this egotistical and delusional until the end.

She doesn’t seem to understand that her only daughter is running away from her. You’re not sure she cares, either and it hurts because, deep down, you expected to walk off with redemption on her side.

Sometimes, there’s no redemption at all from the people who hurt you.

And that’s also okay.

“Are you done?” She asks, looking around. “Are you all done with this nonsense?”

Taking in a breath, you try to tell her that what you said it’s what’s going to happen but she is not having it.

“No,” her finger is up and you raise your eyebrow at it, which gains you a raise on hers in return. “No. You’re not looking for a replacement and no you’re not moving out. That’s insane, Kim Y/N, that’s—”

“What’s my favorite color?” You interrupt to ask her and she stops, opening and closing her mouth while searching for an answer. “What’s my favorite sweet?”

“You don’t have one.”

“I do, I actually have two. What’s my favorite book? Movie? Song?” You turn to your dad this time. “What’s my favorite marketing strategy? Do you even know that one?”

Silence.

“You don’t know me enough to want to keep me here. I understand why you might think you do, but you don’t. Because, guess what? I’m an adult.”

Your mother opens her mouth and closes it again when you shake your head.

And although you’re not speaking to her anymore, you keep looking at your mother straight in the eye and you’re able to catch the exact moment she realizes she lost.

She lost.

“I’m an adult with a paying job and savings you didn’t need to know anything about. So you either take it or leave it. Dad?”

“You want me to decide now?”

You let out a bitter laugh “You can do whatever you want. Just know that I’m not settling for anything else but what I told you. I can either train someone or you can fire me and I can look for a new job,” you explain, “but either way I’m out of here.”

Your mother sighs and then mutters under her breath, but you catch it “What is everyone going to say?”

“I don’t care,” you tell her again and at the response she looks up, startled, like she didn’t expect you to keep going. “Now, I hope you have a lovely lunchr.”

You’re positively shaking when you step into the hallway and through the front door again, with your suitcase in your hand still and no actual plan on where you want to go. Maybe back to the hotel?

Mind reeling, it finally registers the fact that your mother turned to your father and pleaded him to do something for the sake of the family's image just before you stepped foot outside of the house. It was a screech of don't let her go, do something! laced with clear selfish concern.

You feel panic rising, closing your throat up and you feel lost, lost in what you just did, lost in what it actually means for you.

“Hey, hey.” Sukwon catches up to you quickly, his keys in his hands, his breath jagged like he escaped your mother’s claws because that’s probably what happened. “Sell out! You needed to signal me when you wanted to leave, dumbass!”

His eyes linger on your trembling hands when he takes the suitcase from you and you do your best to steady them.

“You didn’t have anything to eat.”

“I know. Where are you going?”

“To… I don’t really know. Yunho’s dorm?”

Sukwon laughs.

“You have a house, you know.”

“I think I’m very much homeless right now. I’m getting trapped and probably thrown in a cell if I go back inside.” You swallow tightly as the realization washes over you. “She’s so mad.”

“My house,” he clarifies, rolling his eyes. “I told them you’re moving in with me, didn’t I?”

“Sukwon…”

“I meant it,” there’s something soft in his eyes before he turns to open the main gate so you can both walk up to his car. “You can stay with me. Like you said, you’re grown and I won't have to look after you anymore.”

“Pfft,” that brings out a genuine laugh out of you, “anymore.”

“I remember running behind you in the garden because you couldn't keep still the second you learned how to walk!”

You look at him with a pout as he opens the trunk, throwing your bag in it without any care in the world.

Like an older brother would.

If your eyes turn watery, you make sure to swallow back the emotion before he can figure out why.

“Can I have my own room?”

“You have a room there already,” he admits, shrugging. “I mean, I thought about you when buying the apartment. Guhno usually stays there but I’m sure he can take the couch when he comes over and— Aw, Y/N!”

By the time he closes the trunk, you’re already crying. A little, enough for him to notice it.

“I don’t want to hear it. Open the door.”

“I’m so telling Yunho you cried!”

“Leave him out of it!” You push his shoulder, quickly getting into the car when he unblocks the doors and he does the same. “He’s staying over whenever he wants, by the way.”

Sukwon laughs, his eyes wide when he turns to you “Not a chance in hell, Kim Y/N.”

“Okay, then your boyfriend is not staying over either!”

“I don’t have a boyfriend!”

You muse, trying not to laugh “I’m telling Gunho oppa you’re denying your love to my face.”

Your brother lets out a sigh and then you squeak when he pulls your hair, playfully, before looking at you with the most sincere stare Kim Sukwon has probably given anyone ever.

“I’m really proud of you, kid.”

Pouting again, you look away and through the window as he pulls out of the curb and into the streets, the house you grew up in quickly fading into the background and your heart thumping hard against your ribs.

“Are you crying again?”

“Ugh,” you turn to him, tears running down your cheeks and a smile pulling at your lips, “you’re so annoying.”

Your clothes are now in your room at Sukwon’s (and yours) apartment, in the walk-in closet. Your brother's taste is nothing short of luxurious and obnoxious and the room is decorated in a way you would never think of decorating it but he swears he has someone who can fix it for me if he wants to.

He forgets that you already know Seonghwa but it's okay, because when you show up at Gyuri’s old apartment, you make sure to find him to tell him just that.

“I've literally told him that we both know Yunho and each other. Wasn't he the one who gave you my number?” Seonghwa asks, mouth hanging open a bit in surprise.

“He did, yes.”

Seonghwa huffs in amusement and you shrug a little “Well, do you want me to work in your room?” He asks after a few seconds and you smile, considering.

“I think I’m going to do it myself, Hwa.”

At the nickname, his smile widens and he nods. You think he’s about to say something else, however your attention drifts from your newfound friend and your eyes search for Yunho in the middle of the room, on the floor, as he takes a piece of furniture apart.

He’s wearing a dark grey crewneck that makes him look so deliciously good you can’t barely help your staring. There’s not one ounce of shame on your body and you’re sure it shows on your face because Seonghwa laughs besides you.

“So I didn’t paint over the tree,” he says and you frown, turning to him, “but I take you reconsidered my point anyway?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“It’s not going to happen,” the mockery in his tone while he tries to make an impression of you doesn’t offend you because you can see the intention behind it and it makes you laugh, roll your eyes and close your arms over your chest, like a child who just got caught. “It’s not going to happen, my ass. Look at you!”

“So I was wrong, who cares?”

“I do, I love being right.”

“He does,” Wooyoung comes into view from the kitchen, a drop of sweet doing his temple and into his cheek that Seonghwa wipes away like it’s nothing. “But I can say I called it first, remember? I’m never wrong.”

“You most certainly are,” Hwa says and you laugh at the expression Wooyoung makes to his friend, offended. Seonghwa turns to you. “He’s wrong most of the time.”

“Okay, that’s it, you’re helping me with the weird spice rack she insists on taking.” Wooyoung takes his elder arm and pulls, making you laugh and Seonghwa gasps.

“You’ve been working on that all afternoon!”

“She installed it herself so it’s all wonky, Hwa.”

Gyuri screams from behind a pile of clothes. You can't even see her even though you know she's standing up. “It is not wonky, Jung Wooyoung!”

Pursing your lips so you don't laugh at her predicament, you watch as Wooyoung silently communicates to Seonghwa that the space rack is, in fact, wonky and then you jump a little when arms close around you from behind.

“Stop complaining, Woo, you're going to have the pleasure to install it however you want later.” Yunho's voice is close to your ear and you hug the arms that hold you, melting into the embrace.

Gyuri laughs sharply when she registers what he said and Wooyoung makes a face at your boyfriend “I hate it here.”

“Sure you do, Wooyoung.” You nod at him, joking even though you don’t know him that well, and Seonghwa joins the tiny laugh you let out at the face Wooyoung gives you.

“I truly did not need a new addition to the group if I was going to get bullied by them as well.”

You fake offense, laughing a second later and Yunho swats a hand on his friend’s shoulder as he passes by you both and into the kitchen again. Seonghwa rolls his eyes before following Wooyoung into the kitchen as well.

Yunho breathes out, his lips finding your cheek “How are you feeling?”

Turning to him, you smile a little. You know he’s asking about what went a little earlier today.

“I’m good, baby,” you whisper back, leaning in a little and kissing him tenderly on the lips. He reciprocates but when you pull away you can see the concern in his eyes. “I promise. I already knew how she was going to react.”

“Me too but that doesn’t make it any less fucked up, Princess.”

“I know,” letting out a sigh, you turn to the living room again and the corners of your lips lift at the mess. “But I’m out of the house and I’m alright now.”

“My mom texted me to congratulate us.”

“Oh?” You don’t turn to him again but your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Did you answer?”

“No,” he breathes out a laugh, “but I should.”

“We can’t run from them forever, Yun,” you feel him nod against you and, finally, you turn around completely to face him. His hands find your waist, his lips curve as he watches you over and you do the same. “Also, you’re banned from my house.”

His smile drops.

“Huh?”

“Sukwon doesn’t want you sleeping over.”

“What did I do?”

You hear someone laughing behind you and Gyuri comes into view a second later “You’re the official boyfriend now, Yunho, you lost your sleeping over privileges.”

“I never had them to begin with!”

“Well—” The sound of glass breaking stops her in her tracks and she goes a little pale at what it means. “Call the police, I’m committing a murder and then turning myself in.”

And then she disappears into the kitchen as well. Faintly, you can hear Seonghwa laughing. You hold onto Yunho, fingers threading softly into the strands of hair on his neck.

“They’re not helping us when we move in together.”

Yunho laughs.

“When we move in together we’re going to hire professionals.”

“Exactly.”

“And Seonghwa can do the interior design of the main part of the house but we can handle our room and studios by ourselves.”

“Mhm.”

There’s that slight glint of concern that crosses his expression again when you take in a deep breath, but you shake your head so he can let go of it.

“We’ll be okay, Yun. We are okay.”

You watch him swallow tightly but then he nods. There’s a lot you both should be concerned about right now but, as you hear Wooyoung scream from the kitchen and a loud smack against the wall nearest to you, you both silently decide to be in the moment.

It doesn’t really matter what hardships you go through, as long as you’re together.

“Against all odds,” you insist, “we’ll be alright.”

I love them and I'm so sad to let them go but hey! that's life! If you read all the way down hear, thank you so, so much. Don't be afraid to go into my askbox to make comments, suggestions, etc! I will take everything into account for my other stories. Thank you!

#jeong yunho x y/n #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho imagines #jeong yunho #yunho fluff #yunho fanfic #yunho smut #yunho x y/n #yunho x you #yunho x reader #jeong junho fluff #ateez fluff #ateez icons #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez reactions

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dippindaz · 1 month ago

Text

Munson's Little Sister - Part 5 (Billy x Reader)

Munson's Little Sister Masterlist Here :)

Please let me know if I should do another part of this story or not, I am unsure of whether to leave it here or continue. Thank you! I hope you all enjoy part 5! (Also, there is some odd paragraph spacing a couple times in this part, I apologize, I tried to fix it but couldn't.)

8.7k words

Warnings: Sibling conflict (There is a resolution), Asshole Billy in the beginning then softie Billy, reader crying, glimpses of Steddie cause I wanted to lmao, Billy flirts with another girl, mentions of punching and bruises, (I think that's it)

The rest of class drags by in a blur. You’re staring at the board, but none of the words make sense. The teacher’s voice fades in and out, just background noise to the storm raging inside your head.

You replay the moment over and over—The Camaro door slamming shut. The tires peeling away. The way your stomach had dropped, cold and hollow, like you’d been sucker-punched.

It wasn’t just the act of him leaving—it was how he did it. No hesitation. No second glance. Like you weren’t even there.

Like you didn’t matter.

You dig your nails into your palm beneath your desk, trying to push the feeling away. It’s fine, you tell yourself. He’s just being Billy. He does this kind of shit.

But it doesn’t feel fine. It feels awful.

And maybe worst of all… you’re not even mad. Not really. You should be furious, pissed beyond belief, but all you feel is small.

Like maybe you’re the stupid one for thinking whatever was between you was anything at all.

The bell rings, snapping you out of your thoughts. You blink, realizing you’ve barely taken any notes, and sigh as you gather your things. You don’t want to think about Billy right now, don’t want to deal with whatever this is.

So, you do what you always do. You push it down, shake it off, and head into the hallway like none of it even matters.

Even though it does.

It does so much it makes your chest ache.

And then you hear them.

Eddie’s voice, rough and frustrated, followed by Steve’s lower, calmer tone.

You stop in your tracks, barely a few steps out of your classroom, and glance toward the corner where their voices drift from. You know you shouldn’t, but with Eddie has been acting… suddenly, you can’t help but listen.

You head closer to the sound of their voices. They’re down the hall, in an emptier part of the school. The noise of the bustling hallways fades, your focus zeroing in on them.

“Come on, man. You’re being ridiculous.” Steve’s voice carries first, exasperated but firm. “You’re really just gonna avoid her forever?”

There’s a rustling sound, maybe Eddie shifting his weight, but he doesn’t answer right away. When he does, his voice is tense, defensive. “I don’t want to be around her if she’s gonna be around him.”

Your stomach twists, and you press yourself closer to the wall, heart pounding.

Steve sighs. “Jesus, Eddie. You don’t have to like him, but you’re really gonna throw away your sister over this? You two have never let anything come between you before.”

“She’s the one making that choice, not me.” Eddie huffs, his frustration bubbling over. “I’m not gonna sit around and watch her get sucked into his bullshit.”

“You don’t even know if it’s bullshit.” Steve argues, voice lowering slightly, as if trying to be reasonable. “Maybe she sees something in him that you don’t. And maybe you should trust her judgment for once.”

Eddie scoffs. “Trust her judgment? Really?” His voice is bitter, but there’s something underneath it—something uncertain. “Billy Hargrove doesn’t do relationships, Steve. He destroys people. And I’m not gonna stand by and watch him do that to her.”

Steve must shake his head, because his voice comes softer, like he’s trying to push past Eddie’s walls. “I get it, man. You don’t like this. But she’s your sister. And whether you like it or not, she still wants you around. You shutting her out isn’t protecting her—it’s just hurting her.”

There’s silence. A long, heavy pause. You don’t breathe.

Eddie mutters something under his breath, too low for you to hear, but Steve picks up on it. “Then tell her that.” His tone is insistent but not unkind. “Tell her how you feel. Just talk to her, Eddie.”

You swallow hard, your hands gripping the strap of your bag. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted to hear him say something—anything—that wasn’t anger.

But then Eddie exhales sharply. “I can’t. Not while she’s still got him in the picture.”

Steve curses under his breath, his patience clearly thinning. “Yeah? And what if she doesn’t change her mind? What if she still wants you in her life anyway? You just gonna let her go?”

There’s no answer.

And that hurts.

Your chest tightens, and before they can notice you standing there, you step away, turning down the hall and disappearing into the crowd, tears beginning to burn your eyes. You need to get out of here. Away from all of it.

You duck into the nearest bathroom, the sound of your shoes echoing on the tile floor as you make your way to the last stall at the far end. The harsh fluorescent lights flicker above, and you barely hear the door open behind you. It doesn’t matter. You lock the stall door and slide down the cold metal wall, resting your head against your knees.

It’s too much.

The tears never come, but the tightness in your chest won’t ease up. The pit in your stomach is too big, too heavy. Your breathing quickens, shallow and unsteady. You clamp your hands over your eyes, but the darkness behind your lids does nothing to block the images from your mind—the look on Billy’s face when he drove away from you, the conversation with Eddie. The words that made you feel smaller than you ever had.

You’re overreacting.

You tell yourself that over and over again, even though you’re not sure you believe it. It’s stupid. It shouldn’t matter so much. But it does.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you take a slow, shaky breath and stand. You open the stall door, staring at your reflection in the cracked mirror above the sinks. Your eyes are red-rimmed, face blotchy, but there’s no time to fix it. You can’t stay in here forever. You have to face the rest of the day, even if it feels impossible right now.

You splash cold water on your face, willing yourself to pull it together, but when you straighten up, you feel the sting of the burn in your throat again, threatening to turn into something worse.

Sighing, you step away from the mirror, glancing down at your watch. The bell’s going to ring soon, and you have no idea how you’re going to get through the rest of the day. But you know you can’t stay in the bathroom forever.

You push open the door, and the cool air from the outside hits you like a shock to the system. You walk quickly, weaving through the crowded halls, ignoring the glances of students as you slip out the back door and into the schoolyard. You’re not sure where you’re going, but you need a break, away from the chaos of everyone’s expectations, away from the constant pressure.

The school grounds are quieter here. The air feels a little fresher, a little easier to breathe. You walk toward the back of the bleachers, slipping through a side gate, and let yourself lean against the cold metal. You close your eyes, taking in the moment of peace, but it’s not enough to quiet the storm in your head.

There’s no escaping it.

——————————————————————————————————

Eddie rounds the corner of the bleachers, already fishing a joint from his jacket pocket when he freezes.

You're sitting there, knees drawn to your chest, staring out at the empty field. The sight knocks the breath out of him for a second. He hadn’t meant to run into you—not yet. He figured he’d keep ignoring you a little longer, that he’d let you figure out for yourself how messed up this whole thing with Billy was. But now, here you are, right in front of him, looking damn near broken.

Eddie exhales sharply through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face. Then, with a resigned sigh, he shoves the joint back into his pocket and steps forward. “Guess we’re doing this now, huh?”

You tense at the sound of his voice, shoulders curling inward as you glance up at him. There’s a flicker of something in your eyes—hurt, anger, relief? Maybe all three. You swallow hard, your voice rough. “Guess so.”

Eddie rocks back on his heels, tilting his head as he studies you. “You look like hell.”

A dry laugh escapes you, humorless. “Yeah, well. Feels about right.”

He doesn’t sit next to you immediately. Instead, he crosses his arms, watching you closely. “You been crying?”

“No.” The answer comes too fast, too defensive, and Eddie just lifts a brow because, really? You sigh, shaking your head. “Not really.”

Eddie clicks his tongue, gaze softening despite himself. He had every intention of keeping up the tough act, of laying into you for choosing Billy over, well, anyone else. But it’s hard to be mad when you look like this—like the weight of the world is pressing down on you. And suddenly, he doesn’t want to fight anymore.

With another sigh, Eddie finally lowers himself onto the bleacher beside you, stretching his legs out in front of him. There’s a beat of silence before he mutters, “Look, I don’t get it. I don’t get what you see in him. But… if this is what you’re doing, I can’t stop you.”

Your head snaps to him, eyes wide. “You mean that?”

He shrugs, glancing away. “Doesn’t mean I like it. Doesn’t mean I think it’s a good idea. But if I keep avoiding you, that means he wins, right? And I’d rather suffer through seeing you with him than… not see you at all.”

Your throat tightens, emotions swirling thick and fast. “Eddie—”

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. I’m still gonna complain about him every chance I get.”

That actually pulls a small smile from you, something warm flickering in your chest. You know he’s not happy about it, that he’s only doing this because he doesn’t want to lose you. And part of you feels guilty—because if he knew about the way Billy had been acting, he’d be furious. He’d tell you he was right, and you’re not ready for that. Not yet.

So you don’t tell him. You just lean into his shoulder, and after a second, he sighs dramatically but lets you stay there.

“You owe me for this, you know,” he grumbles, but there’s no real bite to it.

You sniff, smiling against his sleeve. “Yeah, yeah.”

And for now, it’s enough.

The rest of the day drags on, but the awkward tension between you and Eddie starts to melt a bit. Eddie’s attitude softens, and for the first time in a while, you don’t feel the weight of his anger pressing down on you.

When the final bell rings, you head out to the parking lot, Eddie’s van parked right where he promised. He’s already there, leaning against the driver’s side door, looking like he’s been waiting forever. You both say little on the ride back home, but it’s comfortable. The silence doesn’t feel as heavy anymore. It’s just the two of you, like things used to be.

When you pull into the trailer park, the first thing you notice is Uncle Wayne’s truck in the driveway. His tall figure is visible in the window of the trailer as he walks around, humming some tune to himself. For a moment, everything feels normal again. Like nothing’s changed.

You slide out of the van and step up onto the porch, Eddie right behind you. Uncle Wayne greets you with a smile, asking how school went, and the three of you sit down for a simple dinner. It’s nice to have this—this little bubble of peace. No Billy, no drama, just your family.

The three of you sit around the small table, talking about the day, laughing about little things. It feels good, like nothing’s really changed. The warmth of the food in your stomach matches the comfort of having your family together again.

Then phone rings, cutting through the soft hum of the evening. Wayne pauses mid-bite, his fork halfway to his mouth, then looks over at the receiver on the wall by the door.

“Hold on,” he says, wiping his hands on a napkin before getting up and moving toward the phone. “I’ll grab it.”

You and Eddie exchange a look—neither of you expecting a. Wayne picks up the receiver, gruffly mumbling his usual, “Hello?”

The conversation on the other end is muffled, but Wayne’s face shifts slightly, a subtle flicker of recognition in his eyes. He glances at you, then Eddie, before giving a short grunt.

“Eddie’s here, hold on,” Wayne says before handing the phone over to Eddie.

You notice Eddie’s hesitant expression as he takes it, but there’s no mistaking the slight tilt to his lips—like he’s trying not to smile.

“Yeah?” Eddie says, taking the phone, his voice quiet, casual.

You try to focus on your food, but your mind lingers on the sound of the voice on the other end of the line. It’s Steve, you can tell even from the way Eddie's expression softens, his usual guarded demeanor slipping just a little.

You steal a glance at Eddie as he speaks, and there's something in the way he holds the phone, the small shift in his posture as he leans against the counter, that makes you think he’s more than just casual about this. Eddie’s always been distant with most people, hard to read, but when he talks to Steve, there’s something different.

“Yeah, just got done with dinner… Nah, everything’s fine. Yeah, we’re good.” Eddie’s voice drops a little lower as he listens.

Your mind drifts, wondering if it’s just your imagination, but there’s a little edge to Eddie’s words—something you’ve heard before. Steve’s probably talking to Eddie about something personal, and Eddie’s quiet, his softness, is telling in a way.

You look over at Wayne, who’s busy with his own plate, and you feel your chest tighten.

For a moment, you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more going on between Eddie and Steve. There’s always been this unspoken tension between them—something that’s never quite been addressed but always hovering in the background. Eddie’s tone softens again, a rare shift you don’t see often.

“Alright, man, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Eddie says, hanging up the phone.

Eddie comes back to the table and sits down, picking up his fork as if nothing happened, but you can still sense the quiet space between the two of them. The phone call was brief, but the weight of it hangs in the air.

Wayne picks up on the subtle change too, but he doesn’t press, letting it slide as he goes back to his food.

“Who was that?” you ask casually, though your voice comes out a little quieter than you intended.

“Steve,” Eddie answers, glancing at you but saying nothing more.

You nod, biting back a little smile.

——————————————————————————————————

The morning air is crisp, the sky still carrying the soft hues of dawn as you and Eddie pull into the school parking lot. The drive had been surprisingly normal—maybe even nice. No tension, no forced silence, just easy conversation and Eddie tapping along to the music playing through the van’s old speakers. It felt… comfortable, like things were finally settling between you.

As you step out of the van, Eddie slings his bag over his shoulder, glancing at you with a smirk. “Try not to get into any trouble today, yeah?

You roll your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he heads off toward his usual morning routine. You adjust your bag and head toward the school, the usual morning chaos unfolding around you. Students linger in the parking lot, chatting in small groups, while others rush inside, desperate to finish last-minute homework before the first bell.

The halls are already buzzing with noise when you step inside, weaving through the familiar faces until you reach your locker. As you spin the dial on the lock, a voice—low and smooth—cuts through the noise behind you.

“Miss me, princess?”

You freeze, your stomach flipping despite yourself. You know that voice.

Turning your head, you see Billy leaning casually against the lockers beside yours, watching you with that smirk that always makes it hard to think straight.

And just like that, the irritation you’d buried from yesterday flares up again. You shut your locker a little harder than necessary. “You mean after you drove off without a word?”

Billy doesn’t look the least bit guilty. In fact, his smirk deepens, his eyes dragging over your face like he’s enjoying every second of your frustration.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he says, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse pick up.

You cross your arms, trying to hold onto your anger. “Then how should I be, Billy? You saw me walking toward you, and you just—” You huff, shaking your head. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

Billy exhales a quiet chuckle, stepping closer, just enough for his cologne and cigarette smoke to wrap around you. “Didn’t think you were the type to get all worked up over a little thing like that.” His fingers brush against your arm, featherlight, sending a shiver down your spine.

You hate that he knows exactly what he’s doing. That he always knows how to make your anger feel like it’s slipping through your fingers like sand. The way he pulls you back in like it’s nothing.

You glare at him, but your voice isn’t as sharp when you say, “You don’t get to play mind games with me, Billy.”

Billy tilts his head, eyes dark with something unreadable. “Who says I’m playin’?” His eyes flick over your face, and for a moment, there’s something almost… easy about him. No teasing smirk, no sharp edge to his voice.

“So, what? You gonna stay mad at me all day?” he asks, his tone lighter now.

You huff, rolling your eyes. “I don’t know, Billy. Depends on if you’re gonna act like an ass again.”

Billy chuckles, shaking his head. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

Despite yourself, the corner of your mouth twitches, just the smallest hint of a smile threatening to break through. This is the Billy you don’t mind so much. The one that, when he isn’t being a complete jerk, is actually kind of… nice to be around.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It’s been a long couple of days, okay? Eddie was avoiding me, and I thought he wasn’t ever gonna come around again.” The words spill out before you can stop them, frustration laced into your tone.

Billy’s smirk falters, a brief flicker of something dark crossing his expression. His posture shifts, shoulders stiffening just slightly. “Yeah?” he mutters, voice quieter.

You nod, not noticing the way his grip tightens against the locker beside him. “Yeah. I mean, it sucked, you know? We’ve never fought like that before, and I—”

“You spend too much time worrying about that freak,” Billy cuts in, his voice suddenly sharp.

The shift in his mood is like a slap to the face.

Your eyebrows pull together. “Billy—”

“Nah,” he interrupts, pushing off the lockers and stepping into your space, his usual smirk replaced with something colder. “You think Munson’s really worth all that stress? He’s just pissed ‘cause you’re not attached to his hip anymore.”

You stare at him, a familiar frustration bubbling in your chest. “That’s not true,” you snap. “And you don’t get to talk about him like that.”

Billy scoffs, his jaw tightening. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” His tone is dismissive, his eyes already flicking elsewhere like he’s bored of the conversation. Like you’re boring him.

And just like that, the moment is gone.

Billy steps back, flashing a hollow smirk before turning on his heel. “See you around,” he throws over his shoulder, walking off without another word.

You’re left standing there, fists clenched, heart pounding. You don’t know why you’re surprised. This is the Billy everyone else always knew, the one who didn’t care about anything or anyone but himself. And yet, you fell right into his trap. You really believed that maybe… maybe he wasn’t what everyone said. But lately you weren’t so sure.

Still, it stings.

The rest of the morning drags. You try to focus, but Billy’s words from earlier keep circling in your head, an endless loop of irritation and hurt. By the time lunch rolls around, you’re still carrying that frustration, but you’re determined to push it down, to move on.

That is, until you see him.

He’s near the vending machines by the gym, tucked into a quieter hallway where fewer students linger. He’s leaning against the wall, all easy confidence, that signature smirk in place. But it’s not for you.

It’s for her.

A girl from the cheer squad, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she laughs at whatever Billy just said. You catch the tail end of it as you pass.

“You free this weekend, babe?” His voice is smooth, dripping with charm. “Could show you a real good time.”

Your stomach drops and way she giggles, the way she tilts her chin, the way he looks at her—it’s enough to snap the last thread of patience you have left.

“Are you fucking serious?” The words are out before you can stop them, sharp and loud enough that a few heads nearby turn your way.

Billy’s smirk falters, his eyes shooting to you. For a second—a short, fleeting second—he looks as though his heart is going to drop out of his ass.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” you bite out, stepping closer. “Go ahead, Billy. Tell her all about how you’re so interested in her. How you’re such a great guy.” Your voice drips with sarcasm, but underneath, there’s real hurt, real anger.

The girl shifts awkwardly, looking between you and Billy.

Billy’s jaw tightens. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” You laugh, a bitter sound. “You act like I don’t exist, start treating me like crap out of nowhere, and now—what? You’re just gonna move on to the next girl, like none of it ever happened? Like I’m nothing?”

Billy exhales sharply through his nose, pushing off the wall. “I don’t owe you anything.”

The words hit harder than you want to admit.

Your jaw clenches, fingers curling into fists at your sides. “Right,” you say, voice quieter now but no less sharp. “You don’t owe me anything… but I expected more from you.”

Again, something flickers in his expression, only for a brief moment. But then it’s gone, replaced by that same infuriating mask of indifference.

And it hurts. It hurts so bad you think your heart might explode.

You turn on your heel and push through the tiny crowd that formed, tears blurring your vision. You don’t know where you’re going in the moment, your feet move on instinct. You keep walking until the noise of the hallway fades, until you’re somewhere quieter—near the side doors, where barely anyone lingers this time of day.

Your hands tremble as you press them against your temples, breathing hard. Why does it hurt so much? You knew Billy was reckless, you knew he played games, but it still hurts.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the lump in your throat to disappear, but it won’t just go away. It’s only when the first sob claws it way up your throat that you push through the doors, but you don’t get much farther than that. You slide down the brick wall, your arms wrapping around yourself and tears spilling from your eyes.

You felt stupid. You felt so stupid.

You should’ve known better.

You did know better.

It hurt so badly. You never knew anything could hurt this much. And it hurts worse than anything. Wrose than the random aches and pains that Wayne said you were way too young for, worse than the time you sprained your ankle, you were sure it hurt worse than anything else in this world.

And all you want?

All you want is him. Holding you, kissing your forehead, telling you it was alright. For him to have some explanation that made it all better.

You cried until you physically couldn’t. Until your head pounded against your skull and your eyes were sore.

When you heard the doors nearby push open, you didn’t dare look. At best, it was Billy, and at worst… at worst, it was also Billy.

Footsteps shuffle against the pavement. You keep your head down, pressing your forehead to your arms. If it’s Billy, you don’t want to see him. You don’t want to hear whatever excuse he’s cooked up. And if it’s someone else, you don’t want to see the pity in their eyes.

But then, the person sighs.

“You good?”

Eddie.

For a moment your quiet. It’s obvious you’re not, but do you really want to tell him what happened with Billy? To admit how he was right all along?

No.

“Fantastic.” You mutter.

“Saw what happened.”

Your stomach twists. “Come to rub it in?” You ask, your voice bitter.

Eddie sighs again, and then sinks down beside you. He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t force you to talk. He just sits there, legs stretched out, staring ahead like you’re both just casually skipping class.

You glance at him, cautious. “Then why are you here?”

He shrugs. “Figured you didn’t wanna be alone.”

The words settle something deep inside you. Because for all the fights, for all the tension lately—He’s still here. He’s still your brother.

You exhale, long and shaky, letting some of the anger ebb away. “I hate him,” you mutter, voice raw.

Eddie hums. He doesn’t believe you. You don’t believe you.

You sniffle, willing your eyes with your sleeve. You finally look at Eddie, and immediately it catches your eyes. The hand resting on his knee, his knuckles are bright red, the middles already turning a deep blue.

Your eyebrows furrow. “What the hell happened to your hand?”

Eddie looked down at his hand, his fingers flexing before they relaxed. “I… had some scores to settle.”

“Eddie…” Your eyes widen as you meet his own deep brown ones.

“What? He and it coming.” He shrugs.

You don’t respond right away. You feel special that Eddie defended you the only way he probably knew how. You feel like Billy probably deserves it. At the same time, you don’t want to think of him in pain. Curse your stupid brain.

“How’d he react?”

Eddie looks down at his hand once more. “Didn’t do anything, really. He just kinda let me.”

You blink, taken aback. “He just let you?”

Eddie nods, flexing his fingers again. “Didn’t fight back, didn’t say a damn thing. Just took it.”

That unsettles you in a way you don’t expect. You thought Billy would’ve swung back, would’ve done something. But he didn’t.

Your mind races with possibilities—maybe he thought he deserved it. Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe this was his way of punishing himself.

Eddie watches you carefully. “If you’re about to start feeling bad for him, I swear to god—”

“I’m not,” you lie.

Eddie scoffs, shaking his head. “Right.”

You let out a heavy sigh, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I don’t know what I feel,” you admit. “I’m just—tired.”

Eddie leans his head back against the wall. “Yeah. I get that.”

And he does. Because for all your differences, for all the things you’ve fought about lately, Eddie’s still Eddie. He still gets you.

You glance at his bruised hand again, guilt gnawing at your chest. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

Eddie snorts. “Yeah, I did.”

You huff, shaking your head, but you don’t argue. Because, really, you kind of love him for it.

For a while, you both just sit there. The school buzzes in the distance, but out here, it’s quiet. Safe.

Then Eddie nudges your arm. “Wanna get out of here?”

You look at him, and for the first time all day, a small smile tugs at your lips. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Eddie grins, pushing himself up and offering you a hand. You take it, and as he helps you up, it feels like something—something fragile and important—has mended between you.

——————————————————————————————————

The bell above the door jingles as you and Eddie step inside the diner, the smell of sizzling burgers and fresh coffee wrapping around you like a familiar embrace. The place is half-empty, the lull between lunch and dinner keeping most people away. You slide into a booth by the window, and Eddie flops down across from you, drumming his fingers against the sticky tabletop.

“You know,” he says, picking up the menu even though you both already know what you’re getting, “I think today calls for celebratory milkshakes.”

You arch a brow. “Celebrating what, exactly?”

Eddie shrugs. “The fact that you finally saw the light. That Hargrove is a grade-A jackass and not worth wasting your time on.”

Your stomach churns, but before you can even think of a response, Eddie is already calling for the waitress. He orders for both of you like he always does, rattling off a double order of fries and two milkshakes. It’s easier to let him keep talking, to let him distract you.

The waitress leaves, and Eddie stretches, cracking his knuckles. “So. Do we think old man Jenkins over there is an ex-bank robber or a former jazz musician?” He nods toward a man at the counter, white hair slicked back, fingers tapping lightly against his coffee cup as if keeping time to a song only he can hear.

You smirk. “Definitely jazz musician. But, like, he got kicked out of the band for being too wild. Went solo. Burned out after one hit single.”

Eddie gasps, clutching his chest. “Ouch. One-hit wonder? That’s cold.”

You roll your eyes, but a laugh slips out, and it feels good. For a little while, you let yourself sink into the rhythm of normalcy, of easy conversation, of Eddie’s ridiculous theories and the warmth of the diner.

Then, without warning, something yanks you right back under.

A laugh. Low and rough. It’s not Billy’s, but for half a second, it tricks your brain into thinking it is. Your head snaps up before you can stop yourself, your heart leaping into your throat. But it’s just some guy in the next booth over, laughing at something his friend said.

You exhale, but the weight in your chest lingers.

Billy was never here with you, but you still think of him. You still see him in places your sure he’s never been.

You look down at your hands, fingers twisting together in your lap. You still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the way he traced patterns on your arm, the weight of his arm slung around your shoulders, the warmth of his breath against your ear. The way he could make you melt with just a few words.

“Hey.”

Eddie’s voice pulls you out of it. You blink, realizing he’s watching you carefully, his teasing demeanor dimmed just a little.

“You still with me?” he asks, tapping a finger against the table.

You force a smile. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

He hums, studying you for a moment longer. Then the food arrives, and he lets it go, shifting back into his usual, easygoing self. But you know he noticed.

And you know he’s not going to let it slide forever.

The rest of your time at the diner passes in a blur of greasy food and easy conversation. You let Eddie’s chatter fill the space in your head, let yourself get lost in the back-and-forth, in the ridiculous conspiracy theories about the cook running an underground fight club, in the delicious food, and the comfort of knowing that Eddie is still here.

But even as you laugh, even as you dip fries into your shake just to watch Eddie make a disgusted face, there’s a weight in your chest that won’t quite go away.

By the time you’re pulling up to the trailer, the sky is a deep indigo, the last traces of daylight clinging stubbornly to the horizon. Eddie kills the engine, and for a moment, neither of you move. The familiar hum of the crickets outside fills the silence.

“Well,” Eddie finally says, stretching his arms over his head before slumping against the driver’s seat, “today sucked slightly less than usual.”

You snort, unbuckling your seatbelt. “High praise.”

Eddie grins, but there’s something softer in his eyes when he looks at you. “You okay?”

You hesitate, fingers gripping the door handle. “I will be,” you say, and for now, that’s enough.

Inside, the trailer is dimly lit, the hum of the TV barely audible from Wayne’s bedroom. The old man must have already turned in for the night, his shift waiting for him in the early hours of the morning.

Eddie kicks off his shoes by the door, making a beeline for his room with a yawn. “If you hear me playing guitar at an ungodly hour, no you don’t,” he calls over his shoulder.

You shake your head, offering a half-hearted “Goodnight, dumbass,” before slipping into your own room.

The quiet presses in as you sit on the edge of your bed, kicking off your shoes and rubbing your tired face. The day is over, but the emotions still linger—anger, hurt, confusion. And beneath all of it, something softer, something warmer. Something you don’t want to name.

You sigh, flopping back against the mattress. You don’t want to think about Billy.

But you already are.

At this point you feel as though you always are.

——————————————————————————————————

You toss for what must be the hundredth time, the sheets twisted around your legs like they’re trying to trap you in your own restlessness. The ceiling above you is dull, unmoving, but your mind spins like it’s running laps. You can't stop replaying the day, every word, every look, every ache that settled in your chest and hasn't gone away.

You’d had fun with Eddie. Real fun. The kind that makes you feel like things are maybe—just maybe—going to be okay. But even with all the laughter and greasy diner food, Billy’s face kept flashing in your mind. Not just the way he looked earlier, but how he used to look at you—like you were something he couldn’t get enough of. Like you were wanted.

Now? You weren’t sure you ever were wanted.

You sigh and press the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to force the thoughts away. You’re exhausted—physically, emotionally—but sleep refuses to come. It dances just out of reach, mocking you.

Eventually, your body begins to settle, the weight of the day dragging you toward sleep. Your eyelids flutter shut.

And then—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You jolt upright, heart leaping into your throat. You blink in the darkness, the sound coming again—sharp and urgent against your window.

You don’t move right away. Your breath catches.

Another knock. Then a low voice, barely loud enough to hear through the glass.

“C’mon, princess. Please.”

Your chest tightens. You should tell him to go to hell. You should pull the covers over your head and let him stew out there in the dark.

But you don’t.

You push the blankets off and climb out of bed, your feet barely making a sound against the floor. As you reach the window, you pull the curtain back—

And there he is.

Billy, standing just outside, hands shoved in his pockets, a faint bruise forming across his jaw, one bright blue one along his cheek, and even darker shadows under his eyes. He looks like hell.

He also looks at you like he’s desperate.

Like you’re the only thing in the world that might save him from himself.

You fumble with the window lock, heart pounding, and slide it open just enough to lean out. The night air is cool against your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the chill running down your spine.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you hiss, your voice sharp and low. “Are you insane?”

Billy’s mouth twitches—almost a smile, but not quite. “Relax,” he says casually, like he’s not standing outside your window at god-knows-what hour, with a bruise coloring his jaw and dark eyes that look like they haven’t closed in days. “Just wanted to see you.”

You gape at him. “You just wanted to see me?” Your voice cracks with disbelief. “Billy, you can’t just show up in the middle of the night like some—some creep!”

He leans against the wall under your window, like this is something he does all the time. Like your heart isn’t jackhammering in your chest. “You weren’t answering me,” he mutters, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Thought maybe you’d talk to me now.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, arms folded across the window frame. He’s so frustrating. So stupidly gorgeous even with those bruises—and he knows what he’s doing. But you’re not going to fall for the soft voice and midnight visit.

“Talk about what?” you ask flatly. “The part where you acted like I didn’t exist? Or the part where you asked some other girl out right in front of me?”

Billy exhales, jaw tightening just slightly before he forces another shrug. “Yeah. That.”

You blink. “That’s all you’ve got?”

“No,” he mutters, looking away. His fingers twitch in his pockets like he doesn’t know what to do with them. “But I didn’t think you’d listen if I showed up with a speech or some shit.”

He looks back up at you, and for the first time tonight, the mask cracks—just a little.

“I messed up.”

You stare at him for a long beat, letting his words hang in the air like fog.

“Bad,” he says, quieter this time.

You narrow your eyes, the sting still fresh, your heart still bruised. “No shit,” you mutter, crossing your arms tighter over your chest.

Billy actually winces a little—just barely—but you catch it. His ego never takes hits easily.

He glances around, then back up at you. “Can I come in?”

You scoff. “Are you serious? If Eddie catches you in here, he’ll lose it. And he’s already got a pretty good aim, as I’m sure you remember.”

Billy huffs a breath that’s almost a laugh, touching the bruised side of his jaw. “Yeah, no kidding.”

You lean further out the window, watching him. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You don’t want to give yourself the satisfaction. But still… he’s here. And that has to mean something, right?

“Come outside,” he says, softer now, like he’s trying not to scare you off. “We can just… talk.”

You hesitate, fingers tightening on the window frame. Everything in you screams not to. Not to give in. Not to let him get to you again.

But you sigh, and roll your eyes, already pulling the window open wider.

“Fine,” you mutter. “Just for a minute.”

You grab your hoodie, slip on some shoes as quietly as possible and tiptoe through the trailer. Once you’re out the door, you find him leaning against the side of the house, arms crossed, looking up at the night sky like none of this is unusual.

“You’ve got five minutes,” you say, standing a few feet away, arms folded.

Billy doesn’t say anything right away. He just looks at you, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your face in the dark. The porch light barely reaches where he’s standing, casting long shadows across the bruise on his cheek.

“Thought maybe you’d slam the window shut,” he finally mutters, tone low.

“I considered it,” you admit flatly.

He gives a little nod, like he deserved that. And really? He did.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You snort, shifting your weight. “Could’ve fooled me.” Billy sighs again. He looks… tired. Not just physically. It's something in his posture, the way he holds himself like the weight of the world’s been clawing at his shoulders all day.

“Look, will you just—,” He pauses, running a hand through his hair. “Will you come with me?” He asks as he gestures to the Camaro parked along road.

You cross your arms, staying firmly rooted where you are. “You think showing up in the middle of the night, all bruised and vague, is gonna make me hop in your car like nothing happened?”

Billy’s jaw ticks. “No. I figured you’d give me hell first.”

“Well, congrats. You were right.”

The silence stretches. His eyes stay on you, unreadable. The porch light flickers slightly, casting his face in sharp lines and shadows. There’s something about the way he looks at you, like he’s bracing for impact.

“Just get in the car,” he says again, quieter this time.

You hesitate. Everything about this screams bad idea. It feels like giving in. Like inviting more hurt.

But god, a part of you still wants to go. Still wants answers. Still wants him, even when it shouldn’t.

“I don’t trust you right now,” you admit, voice barely more than a whisper.

“I know.”

You glance at the Camaro, something about it looks oh too inviting. Your stomach churns. “If you’re dragging me off to dump me in a ditch somewhere, I’m not going quietly.”

That earns the smallest smirk from him—just a flicker, barely there. “Noted.”

With a reluctant sigh, you step off the porch and walk toward the car. “This better not be another mind game, Hargrove.”

Billy’s hand ghosts over the passenger door handle, opening it for you. “Wouldn’t waste my gas on a game.”

You roll your eyes, but you slide into the seat anyway.

And as the door shuts beside you, sealing you in with the familiar scent of leather and smoke and something inherently Billy, a sharp wave of anxiety cuts through you. You're not sure where you're going, or why he suddenly wants to talk now—but whatever it is, you're in it.

Billy pulls into the road without another word, the night swallowing the Camaro whole.

The ride is quiet. Not the comfortable kind, but not suffocating either. Just… quiet. The only sounds are the low rumble of the Camaro and the occasional hum of the tires against the road. You don’t ask where he’s taking you, and Billy doesn’t offer it up. You stare out the window, arms crossed, jaw tight, letting the darkness blur past. It's not until the Camaro slows and turns off the main road that you realize—he’s taking you to the quarry.

The quarry.

The place where he first kissed you.

Your breath catches, but you force yourself to keep your expression neutral, like it doesn’t mean anything. Like it’s just another place. Like your heart isn’t pounding in your chest.

Billy pulls into the clearing and kills the engine. For a beat, he doesn’t move, just sits there with his hands still gripping the steering wheel like he’s working up the nerve to do something. Then, without a word, he turns to you.

You meet his eyes, and something about the way he’s looking at you—intense, unreadable, a little desperate—makes your throat tighten. He leans in slowly, testing the waters, his hand brushing lightly over yours. When you don’t immediately pull away, he goes for it. He leans in further and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that’s soft but full of purpose, like he thinks maybe this can fix everything.

For a second, your body betrays you. You kiss him back. You want to kiss him back. But then the hurt, the confusion, the whiplash of the last few days all come rushing back. You push him away with a hand to his chest, breaking the kiss.

“Are you serious right now?” you snap, eyes narrowed. “You think you can just kiss me and that’ll make it all okay?”

Billy pulls back, face shifting like you just slapped him. “I—”

“You can’t keep doing this, Billy. Hot and cold. Wanting me, then pushing me away. Making me feel like I matter one second and like I’m nothing the next.”

His jaw clenches. He doesn’t respond right away. He just exhales, long and slow through his nose, then opens the door and steps out of the car.

You stare after him, unsure. But after a second, he glances back, nodding toward the quarry’s edge. A silent ask.

You sigh, but open your door and follow him. The gravel crunches under your feet, and the night air is cool on your skin as you both walk to the overlook in silence. You stand side by side, the moonlight catching on the water below, everything still except the wind rustling through the trees.

Neither of you speak for a few minutes.

You cross your arms, feeling the weight of the silence settle between you.

There’s not sound out here but nature. Winds rustling the leaves, frog croaks, and the chatter of small mammals. Any other day it would be peaceful, cathartic even, after all the chaos you’ve wound up in. But today, with the way Billy’s acting, it was more eerie than anything.

Nothing like the first night you came here with him.

You peeked at him. His shoulders were tense, eyes focused on the horizon, and a bit of red on his cheek that you hadn’t noticed before. Light and splotchy, as if it was fading. You look down at the water, how it laps at the shore.

“Why were you so… different that night?” Your voice was softer than you intended.

Billy doesn’t answer or move right away. For a moment you think he might just ignore you.

Billy shifts slightly, exhaling through his nose. His jaw tightens, like he’s weighing whether or not to even entertain your question.

Then, finally, he says, “Dunno.” His voice is lower than before, rougher. “Guess I wasn’t thinking.”

You frown, tilting your head. “About what?”

His lips press together, and for a moment, he looks like he regrets saying anything at all. Like he’s about to brush you off, throw up that cocky smirk and turn this into something else entirely. But then, something shifts.

Billy sighs, running a hand over his face before looking at you properly. The usual glint in his eyes is gone, replaced with something more raw—something you can’t quite place.

“About… everything.” He shakes his head slightly, glancing away. “Didn’t have to think about what was waiting for me at home. Didn’t have to think about my old man.” His voice tightens, like the words leave a bitter taste in his mouth. “Didn’t have to think about who I was supposed to be or what everyone expected.” He exhales, dragging his fingers through his hair. “That night, it was just… easy.”

You don’t say anything at first. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him talk like this before. No bravado, no teasing lilt, no sharp edge meant to cut or push you away. Just honesty.

It makes your chest feel tight.

“So, what changed?” you ask softly.

Billy huffs out a breath, looking down at the ground. “Everything.”

You wait, giving him the space to continue, and after a moment, he does.

“Figured it was a mistake.” His voice is quieter now, and the way he says it makes your stomach twist. “Figured you’d come to your senses, realize what kind of person I am... I didn’t wanna be the reason you had family issues.” He shakes his head. “So, I made it easier for you.”

You swallow, staring at him. “Easier?”

Billy lets out a humorless laugh. “By being an asshole.” He finally meets your eyes again, and there’s something guarded but… sincere in his expression. “If you hated me, then it wouldn’t matter, right?”

You don’t know what to say to that.

Because there’s not a single part of you that hates him. Though there is a part of you that wishes you did.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s what he’s afraid of.

You take a breath, glancing back out at the water. “Maybe it’s not that simple,” you murmur.

Billy watches you for a long moment, then sighs, nodding slightly. “Yeah,” he says. “Maybe not.”

For once, he doesn’t try to twist your words. Doesn’t try to deflect or turn this into something else.

And somehow, that feels more dangerous than anything else he’s ever done.

Billy sighs and sits down. He looks up at you and grabs your hand, gently pulling it in a silent request for you sit, and you do. The moment you’re settles he leans over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him before resting his head on yours.

You don’t pull away.

You tell yourself it’s just because you’re tired. That your body’s aching from too many emotions and too little sleep. That you’re letting him hold you because it’s easier than fighting right now. But deep down, you know that’s not the truth.

You let him hold you because some part of you still wants him to.

His touch is gentle, quieter than the way he usually exists in the world. His thumb traces slow circles over your shoulder, and his chest rises and falls against your side. The cool night air curls around the two of you, and for a moment, it’s almost peaceful.

Almost.

“I’m sorry,” he says finally, his voice quiet and low. He shifts slightly, enough to tilt his head and look at you. “I mean it. I fucked up.”

You don’t say anything right away. Your throat is tight. Because it’d be so easy to accept this. To pretend everything’s okay and melt right back into him.

But you can’t.

“You can’t just say sorry,” you murmur, voice strained but steady. “Not if you’re just gonna do it again.”

Billy flinches like the words actually sting. He doesn’t look away though, doesn’t argue.

You shift back just enough to see him fully. “I can’t keep doing this, Billy. One day you’re kissing me, the next you’re pretending like I don’t matter. Then you show up at my window like none of it happened.” You shake your head, emotion creeping up your throat. “I’m not doing this half-in, half-out thing anymore.”

He’s quiet. Too quiet.

You go on, needing to say it now that it’s started. “If I forgive you… if this is going to be anything… I need more than this. I need you to want more than this. Because I do. I don’t want something casual, and I don’t want to feel like I’m waiting around to see if you’re gonna change your mind.”

Billy swallows hard. His eyes stay on yours, his jaw tense, like he’s holding something back.

“I know I’m messed up,” he says finally, voice rough. “And I know I’ve treated you like shit. But…” He breathes in, like the words hurt. “You make me want to be better. I just—don’t know how to do this. Not the way you deserve.”

You stare at him for a long beat. Then you nod slowly. “Then figure it out. Because I’m not going to keep getting pulled into something that’s only going to break me.”

His expression softens — not completely, not into something easy — but it shifts. It’s the look of someone who knows he’s got a long way to go.

But maybe, just maybe, he wants to try.

“Okay,” he says quietly. “I’ll figure it out.”

And… he sounds like he means it.

Billy’s fingers thread through yours slowly, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. But you don’t.

The two of you sit like that, the wind brushing through the trees, the moonlight catching on the water below. No more words. Just silence. And the fragile beginning of something that might finally be real.

Taglist: @DeeSparticus @unknownroooose @kielelezo @dprweganggang03 @perpetualyscarred @al33naaa @rowynbriarsalix @tomurasneverusedlipstick @strangerthing93 @lemonysweetheart @fanofgunsnroses @raynewalley1 @universallyneckhoagieshark @romaevelizz @cassiecasluciluce @snegyysnapped @thelastemzy @pennywiselake @morganlolitta @universallyneckhoagieshark @avengersz-biotch

#stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #stranger things billy hargrove x reader #stranger things billy x reader #stranger things billy x you #stranger things billy hargrove x you #brother eddie munson #brother eddie munson x reader #brother eddie munson x you #Billy Hargrove x Munson reader #Stranger things Billy Hargrove x Munson reader #Stranger things Billy x Munson reader

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miaoua3 · 9 months ago

Note

hiiii! I love your fics can I request hannie headcanons ? sfw and nsfw?

tysm <33333

hii! thank you so much, im glad that you’re enjoying my stuff! and sure you can!

Jeonghan Boyfriend Headcanons:

•(sfw! hcs):

you definitely give him cuteness aggression all the time so he will just come up to you and squeeze your cheeks between his hands so your lips look as if you were a fish and kiss you aggressively while saying “you’re so cute ughhh can you stop being so cute somebody is bound to try to steal you away from me?” (drama queen)

loves to randomly give you head pats while you are talking, you could be standing in front of him and complaining about something and all he does is smile gently at you while smoothing down your hair with gentle hands

speaking of hair, loves to randomly pull your hairs into two pigtails with his hands and just…play with it? lmao just randomly going “tututu” while making the pigtails bounce up and down for no reason at all

loves to play stupid when you ask for a kiss, will just be like “hm? did you say something? i could’ve sworn i heard something but oh well-“, will continue to do this until you forcefully pull him down by his shirt and kiss him, will smile while kissing you (little shit)

is the baby in the relationship, wants you to talk to him in baby voice and cuddle him and hold him and scratch his head and kiss him all the time- if you thought that you were going to be the one to get the princess treatment you thought wrong (kinda, he still will treat you like that dw it’s just that he wants that treatment first before he gives it to you too)

randomly bites you all the time- you are in the kitchen and making yourself a coffee? there he is, bending down and biting your cheek, its saturday and you free day so you’re sleeping in for once in your life? yeah no, not when hannie decides its the perfect time to bite your shoulder and demand that you pay attention to him

if you couldn’t tell by the ton of incriminating video evidence, he loves to slap your ass all the time, god forbid you drop something and bend down to pick it up, he’s already all over your ass, squeezing it and making it jiggle (smh you wonder if you’re in a relationship with a 13 year old sometimes)

while he’s usually in the happy and cheerful mode almost all the time, when you come crying to him about something that happened he genuinely gets so angry, he’s ready to throw hands and kill however made you cry, will just grab his keys and angrily be like “where is he? im going to kill him.” you will have to hold him back and beg him to stay with you instead

•(nsfw! hcs):

another one that is more into hardcore stuff, is into power play, choking, slapping and spanking you, he just loves how desperate you look like while he’s fucking you, your hands wrapped around his wrists while he’s choking you, tears and spit spilling down your face

loves it when you ride him, will just sit back and smirk at you, if you get tired will just be like “what, baby is tired already? wants me to take over?” before he flips you over and fucks you hard and fast

is into light slapping, not too hard, he would never hurt your pretty face like that, just a light tap to your cheek when you are mentally gone while he’s fucking you stupid, just a little ‘hey pay attention to me’ kind of slap

can definitely see him be the type to wake you up with his tongue on your pussy, eating you out as if you were his breakfast, will just smirk when he sees that you woke up, say “well good morning angel” before he gets back down to business

he can’t explain why but he really likes it when you wear all white, he guesses it makes you look so innocent and angelic and he gets off on corrupting you and staining your innocence but that’s just a guess

another one that likes to tease you in public, will just come up behind you while you are grocery shopping and lighting press his front into you so you can feel his half hard on pressing in your ass, all while saying “what are you looking at? ah, the date of expiration? well obviously take the left one then”

LOVES having his hair pulled, will literally moan if you do it, just imagine- he’s laying between your legs, lapping on your pussy and drinking up all your juices when you start rapidly approaching your high, and then you pull on his hair and he’s moaning so loudly into your pussy that it’s enough to make you cum all over his pretty face❤️

another one that is into orgasm delay, loves it when he can feel you clenching around his dick, your pussy pulsating in need to reach the high, your nails biting into his arms, shoulders and back, and then he just pulls out and you let out a frustrated sob (that you will get spanked for) before doing it all again

#seventeen #svt #svt x reader #fypシ #tumblr fyp #fypage #smut #svt fluff #fluff #svt smut #jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan svt #yoon jeonghan

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jungkoode · 3 months ago

Text

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 09

˗ˏˋ rules ˎˊ˗

"Rules are funny things. You make them thinking they'll keep you safe, keep everything contained. But sometimes the person you're really trying to protect yourself from… is you"

next | index

⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 6.5k

content: candle shop shenanigans, friend group dynamics, rules and boundaries

✧ author's note ✧

OKAY FIRST OF ALL—who absolutely LOVES Yeji? Because ME. The way she clocked Jungkook within seconds and had NO filter??? Like, I'm obsessed. Mans was genuinely SHOCKED that someone told him to sit his ass down. The audacity of this woman to not immediately melt under his smirky, tattooed menace energy?? I respect her so much. A feminist icon, if you will.

And IRYA. Ughhh, my precious girlie. The way she’s just casually vibing with Jungkook? Like?? They are NOTHING alike, and yet she’s over here just mingling with him, being friendly, unbothered, meanwhile Yeji is foaming at the mouth in the background. I love that contrast so much. It’s like, she doesn’t see him as a threat, just another guy in the room, which makes Jungkook (who is used to either being hated or obsessed over) lowkey confused. You can see the gears turning in his head like “Wait. Why aren’t you scared of me. Or pissed at me. Or flirting with me.” HAHAH POOR BOY.

And let’s talk about Jimin, because HELLO, my quiet support KING. He’s not even saying much in this chapter, but he’s there, next to Y/N, just in case. That kind of silent loyalty? The “I know you can handle yourself, but if you need me, I’m already here” type of presence??? I eat that up every time. Their friend group is everything to me.

Speaking of menace behavior—Jungkook. Are we surprised? He’s so unserious about everything. I loved giving him Kuko as a contact name for Y/N because in every fic, it’s always Kook or Kookie or Koo and I just—I wanted something different. Something slightly sharp and weird. Like, why does it sound like a pet name and an insult at the same time 😭😭 It’s PERFECT for their dynamic.

And finally, Y/N. My messy, mouthy, disaster baby. She is THEE representation of someone who’s barely entered adulthood, fresh into uni, kind of immature, kind of figuring it out, but loud as hell about it. Like, I KNOW some of y’all are probably reading this chapter thinking “girl, seriously??” but THAT'S THE POINT. She’s got so much personality, she’s a walking contradiction, she’s flawed, but she’s HER. I love her for it.

I also stuffed this chapter with SO many Easter eggs. Like, the foreshadowing is right there at the end, but I know y’all aren’t catching everything yet. You’ll come back later, reread it, and be like “OH MY GOD, KIKI???” And I’ll just be sitting here like 😌✌️ I love when a plan comes together.

Anyway, here’s Chapter 9, babes. Enjoy the mess. I’m off to go prep for my therapist session because, let’s be real, I probably projected a little too hard in this one LMAO.

⋆｡°✩ read on ✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

You don't know why you agreed to go shopping with Yeji.

She texted at ass o'clock in the morning about "needing your expert opinion," and honestly? Your sleep-deprived brain just went sure, whatever without processing the implications. You just mentioned having to buy something for Emma — her birthday's in two weeks — and it was downhill from there.

"This place smells like a Pinterest board threw up," Yeji announces as you enter the third candle store of the day. Some fancy boutique with mason jars everywhere and prices that make you want to cry. "Who names a candle Whispers of Moonlight?"

"Someone getting paid way too much," you mutter, checking the price tag. Jesus. "Forty dollars for—is this supposed to smell like grass?"

"Rich people grass." Yeji picks up another one, face scrunching. "Autumn's Last Kiss. What does that even mean? Like, trees making out?"

"Pretty sure it's just pumpkin spice trying to be fancy."

"Capitalism is wild." She moves down the aisle, combat boots squeaking against the polished floor. "Oh shit, look at this one. Midnight Jasmine's Secret Rendezvous. That's not a candle, that's a Mills & Boon novel."

You snort, trailing after her. "Speaking of reading material—"

"We are not starting a book club book chat right now."

"I'm just saying, if you actually showed up to Victorian Lit—"

"And listen to Professor Stevens cream himself over Dickens for two hours? Pass." She picks up another candle, this one in black glass. "Dark Temptation. Bet you five bucks it smells like axe body spray."

She's not wrong. You wrinkle your nose as she waves it under your face. "Why does everything 'dark' and 'masculine' smell like a frat house?"

"Because the straights are not okay." Yeji sets it back, wiping her hands on her jeans like the scent might be contagious. "What did Emma say she likes again?"

"Anything except roses." You pause at a display of seasonal scents. "Her roommate burns those generic rose ones from the dollar store. Pretty sure she's traumatized."

"Valid." Yeji's already moved on to the next shelf, picking up random ones and reading their names in increasingly dramatic voices. "Summer's Sweet Embrace. Woodland Mystery. Oh my god, Bachelor's Button? What the fuck is a bachelor's button?"

"It's a flower," you say, distracted by a actually nice-looking sage and cedar one. Still overpriced, but... "My mom used to grow them."

"Sounds fake, but okay."

She’s quiet for a second. Then:

"What about this one?" Yeji holds up a purple candle, squinting at the label. "Lavender Dreams. Sounds pretentious as fuck."

"Put that down before you break it," you mutter, scanning the shelves. The prices are criminal. “And aren't you supposed to be in Art History right now?"

"Professor Wang's doing that thing again where he talks about his divorce for two hours." She shrugs, setting the candle back with surprising care. "I've already heard all about Karen three times this semester."

You roll your eyes, picking up a sage-scented one. And no, you're not lingering in the candle section because you love them, okay? Emma likes candles too. It's completely reasonable research for a birthday gift. Nothing to do with how your apartment could use some—

"These are boring anyway," Yeji declares, already moving on. Her attention snaps to something across the street. Barnes & Noble, its windows displaying the latest bestsellers.

"Wanna check out some books?" she asks, hands stuffed in the pockets of her worn-out grey zip-up. The one she definitely stole from Irya's closet.

"Since when do you read?" You snort, following her out of the candle store. Because you know damn well Yeji's idea of "reading" is skimming SparkNotes twenty minutes before class.

"Woah, judging a book by its cover?" She gestures to her whole aesthetic: combat boots, ripped jeans, that stolen sweater. "Just 'cause I look like this doesn't mean I don't read."

"You told me last week that Romeo and Juliet was, and I quote, 'straight people nonsense.'"

"It is straight people nonsense." She pushes open the bookstore's door, a blast of air conditioning hitting you. "But we need books for the club."

"You mean the chat group you named 'Fuck The Patriarchy Book Club' that's basically just for rambling and complaining?" Like how you ended up here today, victim to Yeji's class-skipping schemes. "That club?"

"Yeah?" She flashes that smile that you’re starting to associate with trouble. "C'mon, I need to check if they have Pride and Prejudice."

You trail after her into Fiction & Literature, past towering shelves and that distinct bookstore smell. "Pride and—hold up. Weren't you just shitting on romance classics?"

"Yeah, and?" She's already scanning the 'A' section with laser focus. "My girl wants to read it, so we're reading it."

"You're buying it because Irya mentioned it once in the group chat."

"And?" Yeji doesn't even pretend to deny it, moving purposefully through the aisles. "My girlfriend has taste. Unlike some people who waste their time reading..." she picks up a random book, "The Art of Corporate Finance."

"That's not even—"

"Found it!" She pulls out a leather-bound edition, definitely not the cheapest version available. "Look at this fancy shit. Irya's gonna love it."

You're about to point out how whipped she is when something catches your eye. A "Now Hiring" sign at the front counter, clean white letters against dark wood. Huh. You've been meaning to look for a job, something to get you out of the apartment more. And to help your finances. too. God knows you’d rather avoid having to ask mom and daddy for more money.

"Earth to Y/N?" Yeji waves a hand in front of your face. "You good?"

"Yeah, just..." You gesture vaguely at the sign.

Working at a bookstore wouldn't be the worst thing. Plus, employee discount.

"Oh shit, you should totally apply." She examines the sign with newfound interest. "Then you can hook me up with discounts on all the books Irya wants."

"I haven't even—"

"Excuse me?" she calls to a passing employee, ignoring your attempt to shut her up. "My friend here wants to apply for the job opening."

You're going to kill her. Slowly. With one of these hardcover books.

But the employee's already turning around—young guy, probably another student, name tag reading 'Mark'—and you can't exactly bolt without looking insane. Perfect. Just perfect.

"Oh, yeah?" Mark brightens. "We're actually pretty desperate for people who can work weekday afternoons. You have any retail experience?"

"I—"

"She's great with books," Yeji cuts in, because apparently she's your agent now. "Like, literally will fight someone over their trash literary takes. You should hear her rant about Hemingway."

You shoot her a death glare, but... well, she's not wrong about Hemingway.

"That's actually perfect," Mark says. "We get a lot of students asking for recommendations. Here—" He heads to the counter, returning with an application form. "You can fill this out now if you want. Manager's still here."

And somehow, because the universe hates you, you end up at one of the reading tables, filling out your work history while Yeji "helps" by suggesting you list your special skills as "roasting bad authors" and "setting pretentious men straight about their Joyce opinions."

Your phone buzzes. Group chat.

6B Hell

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙲𝚊𝚗 ��𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜? 𝚆𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚗

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞

Yoongs 🎧: 𝚆𝚎’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝟷𝟻𝚝𝚑

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚝𝚑𝚡 𝚖𝚊𝚗

You're about to reply that you'll grab some later when another message pops up.

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡 𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖

What the actual fuck?

You: 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜?

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚌

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎

You let out a disbelieving sound. Yeji, who's been "helping" by pointing out every minor spelling mistake in your application, peers over your shoulder.

"What's up?"

"My roommate being a jerk as usual." You know for a fact Jungkook's probably sprawled on the couch right now, doing fuck-all except maybe killing brain cells on his PlayStation. But sure, you should get the coffee.

You: 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎

You: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘, 𝚒’𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚊𝚠 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚡

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝?

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚝

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎?

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard. That asshole.

You: 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗?

You: 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝…

You: 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢

You: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎?

Yoongs 🎧: 𝚈/𝙽.

Something about Yoongi’s message makes you pause. That's... weird. But before you can think about it:

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 :)

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚢𝚊 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠?

"I'm assuming he means video games," Yeji says, still reading. "Not the fun kind of grinding."

You elbow her in the ribs.

You: 𝚔 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝

You: 𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘

You: 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎? :)

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚝, 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚗𝚊𝚑 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚡? ;)

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜?

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 :)

You're going to murder him. You're actually going to commit homicide, and Yoongi's going to have to find a new roommate, and you know what? He'll probably thank you.

You: 𝚛𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕

You: :)

"So," Yeji says as you aggressively save his number under 'Kuko🖕🏻', "this is fun."

"I hate him so much."

"Uh-huh." She glances at your phone, where he's still sending coffee emoji spam. "You know what this means though, right?"

"That I need better roommates?"

"That you're definitely getting this job." She taps the half-completed application. "Can't spend all your time at the apartment if you're working retail hours."

She... might have a point.

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚢

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝

Yoongs 🎧: 𝚈/𝙽, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝚆𝚎,𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛.

Your phone buzzes again, but this time it's the other group chat. Thank fuck.

Fuck The Patriarchy Book Club 📚

Irya 🌸: 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚜?

Irya 🌸: 𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗

Jin ☕️: 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

Jin ☕️: 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚜.

Jin ☕️: 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝟻𝟶𝚔𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝟻.

Jin ☕️: 𝙶𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎.

Your phone keeps vibrating with notifications from the other chat. You peek at it.

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Jesus fucking Christ.

Yeji 🖤: 𝚙𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊 𝚊𝚝 𝚢/𝚗’𝚜?

Yeji 🖤: 𝚠𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎

Your head snaps up. "Excuse me?"

"What?" Yeji doesn't even look guilty. "You keep complaining about him, might as well know what we’re working with here."

You: 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝

You: 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Irya 🌸: 𝚘𝚘𝚑 𝚢𝚎𝚜!! 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗??

Irya 🌸: 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗

Irya 🌸: 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎?

You let out a loud sigh, now considering Irya’s question. Because part of you thinks about bringing unwanted guests to the apartment, about how that could disturb the peace, especially for Yoongi.

But also? Also, Jungkook brought his friends last time. No warning, no group chat message to let you know you’d meeting random dudes in your pokemon PJs.

So he can suck it, honestly.

You: 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎

You: 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘

Jin ☕️: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙹𝚘𝚎’𝚜.

Jin ☕️: 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎.

Jin ☕️: 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘, 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗.

Another cascade of coffee emojis floods your notifications. You switch back to the apartment chat.

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡𝚡𝚡𝚡𝚡

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚒𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝟿𝟶% 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚎

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

You hit mute so fast you nearly crack your screen.

You: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎

You: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚈𝙾𝚄’𝚁𝙴 𝚋𝚞𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚎𝚓𝚒

Yeji 🖤: 𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚘 𝚗𝚘

Yeji 🖤: 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝟻𝟶 𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔

Yeji 🖤: 𝚒𝚖 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎

Irya 🌸: 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔? 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚎? 👀

Irya 🌸: 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔?!?!?! 💘

Jin ☕️: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐.

Jin ☕️: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚜.

Yeji 🖤: 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢

Yeji 🖤: 𝚐𝚘 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜

"So," Yeji says, watching you aggressively fill out the availability section of your application. "Should we warn your roommate about pizza night or...?"

You think about the endless coffee emojis. About how he's probably still spamming them, the notifications piling up in your muted chat.

"Nope."

She grins. "Chaos it is."

You make it to your apartment after what feels like the longest trek ever, juggling the coffee capsules bag and your dignity. And no, you didn't buy them because of him, okay? You bought them because Yoongi deserves his caffeine fix. Yoongi, who actually helped you carry boxes up flights of stairs when you moved in. Yoongi, who warns you when the hot water's acting up. Yoongi, who—unlike some people—doesn't blast music at 3AM.

"Still can't believe you actually bought them," Yeji says for the fifth time, trailing behind you up the stairs. "Like, you're really just gonna enable his bratty ass?"

"They're not for him." You dig through your bag for your keys. "I got the regular ones for Yoongi. The vanilla ones are mine."

"Uh-huh." She's got that look again. "And you got the vanilla ones because...?"

"Because I like vanilla coffee." Your keys jangle aggressively as you search. "Not everything is about him."

"I offered to spike them," she reminds everyone, way too loudly for a hallway. "Could've made it look factory-sealed and everything."

Jimin looks slightly concerned. "Do I want to know why you know how to do that?"

"Probably not," Irya says cheerfully. "But that's why I love her."

You finally locate your keys, jamming them into the lock. It sticks—because of course it does, these old-ass doors—and you have to do that weird wiggle thing to get it open. "The last thing I need is a lawsuit for attempted murder by coffee."

"It wouldn't kill him," Yeji argues. "Just, you know. Mild poisoning. Character building."

"Pretty sure that's still illegal," Jimin says.

"Only if you get caught."

The door finally gives, swinging open to reveal... nobody. The living room's empty, thank fuck. No sign of Yoongi or—more importantly—no sign of him. Maybe they're both out. Maybe you'll actually get through this pizza night without any—

"Yo, this is actually nice," Yeji says, already making herself at home on the couch. "When you said 'bros' cave' I was expecting, like, beer pong tables and stolen street signs."

"Those are in Jungkook's room," you mutter, dropping the coffee bag on the kitchen counter. Not that you've seen his room. You haven't. Obviously.

Irya's examining the vinyl collection by the TV. "These are good albums. Your roommates have taste."

"Those are Yoongi's." Probably. You're like 90% sure they're Yoongi's. You've never actually asked.

"The place is surprisingly clean," Jimin notes, still hovering politely by the door. "Need help with anything?"

"Nah, just—" You pause as something orange streaks past. "Oh, shit, wait—Griffin, no—"

Too late. Your cat roommate's already winding between Jimin's legs, purring like the attention whore he is.

"You have a cat?" Irya drops to her knees immediately. "Oh my god, he's gorgeous."

"He's not mine." You dump your bag on the counter. "He's Jungkook's emotional support menace."

"Like owner, like cat," Yeji says, watching Griffin charm his way into Jimin's arms.

"True." You roll your eyes. "Demanding, dramatic, and constantly in the way."

Griffin headbutts Jimin's shin, purring louder.

"Should I..." He looks uncertain. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah, he does that." You start unpacking the coffee capsules. “He's harmless. Just attention-starved and thinks he owns the place."

"Again," Yeji says, "like owner, like cat."

"Pretty much.”

"At least the cat's cute." She stretches out on the couch, combat boots definitely leaving marks. "Makes up for the personality."

"Tragic how the genes weren't distributed evenly," you mutter, strategizing about how to arrange the coffee capsules in the cabinet. Normal ones for Yoongi, vanilla ones hidden in the back where grabby hands can't reach them.

Irya's still on the floor with Griffin, who's now rolled onto his back. "I don't know, he seems sweet."

"The cat? Yeah." You slam the cabinet open. "The owner? Walking nightmare."

"Speaking of nightmares." Jimin's still by the door, ever polite. "Should we maybe warn him we're having pizza here? Since it's his apartment too..."

You think about the forty-seven coffee emojis still sitting in your muted notifications.

"Nope."

"Absolutely not," Yeji agrees. "He can deal with it like she dealt with having his dudebro friends over last week."

Irya looks up from scratching Griffin's belly. "Oh yeah, didn't you say you ran into them in your—what was it?"

"Pokemon pajamas," you groan. "Look, they were clean, okay? And it was like, Saturday morning. Who has people over at Saturday morning?"

"Douchebags," Yeji supplies helpfully.

You're about to agree when you hear it. A door opening down the hall. Footsteps.

Of-fucking-course.

"You bought the coffee, phoenix?"

The drawl comes from behind you, and you briefly consider whether jail time for murder would really be that bad. Jungkook's leaning against his doorframe in—are those fucking Sonic pajama pants?—looking like he just rolled out of bed. At 7PM. Because of course he did.

"Nice little reunion you got going on here, by the way."

He yawns, running a hand through his messy hair as he saunters into the kitchen. Like this is totally fine. Like having your friends over without warning isn't exactly what he did last week with Hoseok and Taehyung—who, by the way, apparently has keys to your fucking apartment.

You pointedly ignore him, which would work better if he wasn't literally heading straight for you. He reaches around you to rummage through the shopping bags, and you slap his hands away.

“Get out of my stuff."

"Oh," he pulls out the vanilla capsules before you can stop him, "you actually got me the vanilla ones?"

"They're not for you." You snatch them back. "Get your hands off them."

He grabs for them again. "Pretty sure you bought them because—"

"I bought them for me." You yank them away, but he's already going for the other bag. "Oh my god, can you not—"

"So this is the pain in the ass?" Yeji's voice drips with disdain from the couch.

Jungkook quirks an eyebrow, still trying to get his hands on your shopping. "Who's Cruella de Vil over there?"

You elbow him away from the bags. "None of your—"

"Another candle?" He snatches it up, holding it over his head where you can't reach. Dick. "Seriously? After last time?"

"If you'd stop making everything smell like balls and nachos—" You jump for it, but he just stretches higher, "—I wouldn't have to buy them, Rogue."

"I don't smell like—"

"Wait," Irya interrupts, and you catch her hiding a smile behind her hand. "Phoenix?"

"Rogue?" Jimin adds quietly from his corner, looking between you back and forth.

Jungkook's smirk widens as he finally lets you grab the candle back. "Oh, she hasn't told you that story?"

"We are not discussing this again." You shove the candle in its bag. "Ever."

"Why not? It's hilarious." He's fully grinning now, leaning his hip against the counter like he owns it. "Haven't told them about how you almost set the place on fire your first week here?"

"BECAUSE YOU ENTERED THE HOUSE LIKE A FUCKING—" Your hand's fisted in his t-shirt before you can stop yourself, and he's snickering, the absolute dick. "Like a complete psychopath," you finish through gritted teeth.

"The lock sticks!" He's still laughing. "I told you, it's an old door—"

"You didn't have to shoulder it open like the SWAT team!"

"You dropped a lit match!"

"Because you scared the shit out of me!"

"Ugh," Yeji groans. "Is he always like this?"

"Worse," you mutter, finally releasing his shirt. "Usually he's too busy being edgy in his room with his electric guitar."

Irya's definitely smirking now. Jimin looks like he wants to disappear into the wall.

"Whatever, phoenix." He makes another grab for the vanilla capsules. "Rising from the ashes of your attempted arson."

"That's not—" You smack his hand away. "That's not why you started calling me that and you know it."

"Pretty sure it is."

"Pretty sure you're full of shit."

Griffin chooses this moment to abandon Irya and wind between Jungkook's legs, the little traitor. Jungkook immediately scoops him up, and you pretend not to notice how the cat starts purring instantly.

"See?" He scratches under Griffin's chin. "G knows I'm right."

"G's a whore for attention." You start shoving the shopping bags away. "He'd side with Satan if Satan had treats."

"So that's why he likes you."

"You calling me Satan now? Wasn't it phoenix? Pick your poison, dumbass."

"Nah." He's still petting Griffin, who's practically melting in his arms. "Just saying you're both dramatic as fuck."

"Says the guy who kicked down a door over a—"

"The lock was stuck!"

"Yeah? Like your head up your ass?"

“Do you two always do this?” Irya prompts.

"No," you mutter, yanking the coffee bag away as he tries to sneak another grab at it. "When he's not gaming like a twelve-year-old, he's—stop touching my stuff!"

"Just checking what flavor you got," he says innocently, which might work better if he wasn't actively trying to steal the vanilla capsules. "Since you bought them for me and all—"

"I will actually murder you."

"With what? Another candle?"

"Keep talking and find out."

"Children," Yeji interrupts, looking physically pained. "Can we not?"

But Jungkook's already reaching for the bag again, and you swat his hand away. "I swear to god—"

"What? I'm just being neighborly—"

"You're being a pain in the ass—"

"Aw, you noticed?"

"Hard not to when you're—" You break off as he successfully snags a vanilla capsule. "Give that back."

"Make me."

"What are you, five?"

"Says the one hoarding coffee—"

"It's my coffee—"

"Pretty sure you bought it with daddy's credit card—"

The words hit like a slap and before you can think better of it, you snarl, "Fuck you."

Your eyes widen the second it leaves your mouth because you know that look on his face, that slight quirk of his lips, the way he's already—

You slam your hand over his mouth so fast you practically punch him, fingers digging into his jaw. He makes a muffled sound of protest, but you can feel him grinning under your palm, the absolute dick.

"Don't," you hiss. "Don't you fucking dare."

He raises his eyebrows like who, me? but you can feel him trying not to laugh.

"Okay!" Jimin claps his hands together, looking slightly alarmed. "So, pizza? Anyone want to look at the menu?”

“Oooh, that sounds promising.” Jungkook says, yanking your hand away.

"Can't you leave?" You eye him. "Go jack yourself off while you look in the mirror or something. Maybe play your fucking guitar."

"Huhhh?" He's already propping his elbows on the back of the sofa, leaning over the narrow table that ‘separates’ the kitchen from the living room. "I want pizza too. Plus, your friends look nice." His smile is all teeth. "I'm sure they don't mind."

Jimin materializes next to you in the kitchen like some kind of conflict-sensing angel, pretending to be interested in the coffee maker. You know he's checking if you're okay, which would be sweet if you weren't currently fantasizing about drowning Jungkook in vanilla coffee.

"I mind," Yeji announces flatly.

"No problem!" Irya chirps at the same time.

Yeji shoots her girlfriend an exasperated look, but Irya just settles more comfortably against her side. You're going to kill both of them.

"Who's the pink pony over here?" Jungkook nods at Irya, and you see Yeji's arm tighten around her shoulders, hackles practically visible.

"Touch her and die."

"Aww, babe." Irya pats Yeji's thigh. "I'm Irya, and this little black cat over here is my girlfriend Yeji." She points across the room. "That's Jimin."

Jungkook glances back at where you're now aggressively reorganizing coffee capsules, Jimin hovering uncertainly beside you. There's something in his expression you don't like, mouth opening to say god knows what—

"And the third roommate?" Yeji cuts in.

You're about to answer but Jungkook beats you to it. "Yoongi's not here."

"Working late," you add, just to be contrary. "You know, like an actual adult with a job?"

"Unlike some people," Yeji mutters.

You snort at her commentary, and you tune out Jungkook’s comeback. Instead your eyes flicker to Jimin, who’s scrolling through his phone, probably looking at pizza options, when—

"Yo Jim, come here." Jungkook waves him over. "Let me look at the menu."

You grab Jimin's arm before he can move, linking it with yours. "I'm choosing first, wait your damn turn."

Jungkook rises from the sofa with a click of his tongue. "Come on, I just wanna—"

"Did she fucking stutter?" Yeji snaps, and Jungkook actually blinks, like he's not used to being shut down that fast.

You turn back to Jimin's phone with maybe a bit too much satisfaction. "Okay, so what are we thinking?"

"They have this new quattro formaggi that's supposed to be good." Jimin tilts the screen so you can see better. "Or the classic margherita—"

"Boring," you mutter, scrolling past. "Oh, what about the spicy one? With the—"

"The calabrese?" He zooms in on the description. "Spicy salami, fresh basil..."

"That looks good." You're actually getting hungry now. "Maybe we could—"

A shadow falls over the phone as Jungkook appears in front of you like some kind of pizza-seeking missile. He peers over both your lowered heads, close enough that you can feel the heat from his chest, and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs.

"Have you two decided?" His breath hits your ear. "Because I—"

You're about to grab a fistful of his hair and yank him back to a respectable distance when he snatches Jimin's phone right out of his hands.

"What the fuck—" You start to reach for him, but Jimin catches your wrist.

"It's okay," he says quietly. "Don't worry about it."

Jungkook's already scrolling, completely unbothered. "Yo, what do you two want?" He nods at the couch without looking up.

"Hawaiian for me," Irya pipes up cheerfully. "Yeji wants the diavola, extra spicy."

Yeji just grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "men" and turns on the TV.

"Cool, cool." Jungkook's still scrolling. "Phoenix, you getting the calabrese?"

"None of your business."

"Just trying to make sure we don't order the same thing." He glances up with that insufferable smirk. "Unless you want to share?"

"I'd rather eat glass."

"Okay, so that's a no on sharing." He's still scrolling through Jimin's phone like he owns it. "I'm thinking meat lovers."

"Of course you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're basic as fuck."

"Says the one getting—" he squints at the screen "—spicy calabrese, like some—"

"Can you two shut up for five minutes?" Yeji snaps from the couch. "Some of us are trying to hear the TV."

"My bad," Jungkook says, not sounding sorry at all. He hands Jimin's phone back—finally—and stretches. "Alright, four pizzas ordered. Now we wait."

You watch him sprawl onto the armchair—the one he keeps arguing it’s his (it’s not?)—like he belongs there, and something about it sets your teeth on edge. The casual way he's inserted himself into your evening, how he's somehow charmed Irya into actual conversation, how he keeps looking at you when he thinks you're not paying attention.

"Whatever, man." You push away from the counter, desperate to get away from his presence for at least two minutes. "I'm gonna get into my PJs, I'll be back."

You head down the hall, your skin prickling like he's watching you go. Which he's not. Obviously. You're just on edge because he's being more insufferable than usual, getting all cozy with your friends like he has any right to—

"Yo, phoenix, wait." Jungkook's voice stops you. "Remember that thing with the landlord? The, uh, maintenance form?"

"What maintenance form?"

"You mentioned to Yoongi about the lock sticking, right?" He's already moving towards you with that easy confidence that makes you want to punch him. "Super's been bitching about proper documentation. Needs your signature since it's your door."

He keeps talking as he approaches, something about liability and repair schedules, and it sounds legitimate enough that you almost miss how he's gradually crowding your space. Almost miss how each step brings him closer until—

He reaches past you, hand brushing your hip as he turns the handle. The door barely has time to click shut before Jungkook’s on you, his whole body crowding into yours, ushering you backward so fast you stumble. Almost fall.

“Jesus—”

Your balance tips, but before you can catch yourself, his hands are already on you—grabbing, steadying, possessive. A solid chest against yours, broad palms locking around your wrists before you can shove him away.

He grins down at you, smirky, flushed, pupils blown. That lazy, cocky amusement dripping from his expression like he planned this. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Relax, Phoenix.” His grip tightens, pulling your wrists just slightly apart. “You’re fine.”

And then his mouth crashes onto yours.

Hard. Messy. Zero warning, zero hesitation. Just heat and teeth and tongue, urgent like he needs to shut you up.

You match him instantly, kissing back just as fiercely, nails curling into his shirt, yanking him closer. His hair is soft under your fingers, thick and dangerous, and you tug—just the way he likes it. Just the way that always makes him groan, makes him grab.

Which he does. Both hands drop to your ass, full palms, fingers digging in like he can’t help himself. A rough squeeze that pulls a breathy sound from your throat before you can stop it.

He chuckles, low and wrecked against your lips, hips rolling slow and deliberate against yours.

“Fuck—” Another squeeze, his voice dropping. “You get all mouthy with me, and then you act surprised when you turn me on?”

Your stomach flips.

His mouth is still moving against yours, sharp and demanding, and fuck—you’re dizzy, heat curling low and deep.

You don’t realize he’s backing you up until your spine collides with the wardrobe.

You wince. “God, fuck—”

Jungkook barely lets you finish before his teeth graze your jaw, lips dragging lower—

No.

You shove at his chest, breath coming fast. “What is your problem?”

His smirk is instant, panting slightly, lips wrecked. The fucking look in his eyes—smoky, half-lidded, shamelessly pleased with himself.

“Mm?” He tilts his head, like he didn’t just grope the hell out of you. “What?”

“You can’t—” A sharp inhale. You straighten your shirt, glare sharp enough to cut. “My friends are here.”

He blinks. Shrugs. "So?"

"So," you bite out, "we are not doing this."

Jungkook just looks at you, like you’re speaking a foreign language. "Doing what?"

"Don't." You level him with a flat stare.

His head tilts, gaze dragging over you, slow and deliberate. "I just wanted to talk."

"Talk," you repeat, incredulous.

"Yeah." He plants a hand on the wardrobe beside your head. Not caging you in—just existing in your space, like he belongs there. "Privately."

Jesus fuck.

"Nope." You press your palms to his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through cotton. "Not happening."

"Phoenix." His voice dips, lazy and smooth, like he’s humoring you. "I'll be quick."

A disbelieving scoff. "Absolutely the fuck not."

He laughs, quiet and amused, like this is funny to him.

Of course it is. Of course it is.

You shove at his chest again. "They don’t know about this, and they’re not going to know about this."

His brows pull together, expression open, genuinely confused. "Why?"

Oh, you could kill him.

"Because," you grind out, "I don't need them speculating."

"Speculating about what?"

"About us, dumbass!"

The words land—and then he snorts. He just, snorts. Like you just told him a funny joke he lowkey doesn’t want to laugh at.

"Oh, fuck off," you snap.

His grin lingers. "Nix. We fuck. That’s it. No one’s gonna think we’re picking out wedding invitations."

You glare. "You're missing the point."

"I really don't think I am."

"Rogue." You exhale sharply. "I don’t want them in my business, okay?"

He watches you for a beat, head tilted like he’s reading between the lines.

Then he nods. Simple. Easy. "Okay."

You blink. "Okay?"

"Yeah?" He shrugs. "You don’t want them to know, they won’t know. It’s not that deep."

Right. Not that deep.

It shouldn’t be a relief—he’s only agreeing because he doesn’t care—but your shoulders still drop a fraction.

"Good," you say.

He hums, gaze flicking over your face, considering. "I mean, it’s not like you gotta tell them I’m your boyfriend or something. Just that we fuck sometimes. What’s wrong with that?"

You scoff. "Everything is wrong with that, Jungkook."

He raises an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Like—god, where do you start?

Like the fact that this is supposed to be contained, something that stays locked in this apartment and nowhere else. Like the fact that you need to be in control of it because if you’re not, it means it’s spiraling, and spiraling is—

Not an option.

He hums, considering. The vibration shivers over your skin. "Interesting."

The fuck does that mean?

You glare at him. "What?"

"Nothing." But there's a glint in his eye you don't like. Knowing. Assessing. "Just seems like you're overthinking it."

"I'm not—"

"Ashamed?" His head tilts. "Embarrassed?"

Heat crawls up your neck. "Fuck you."

"I mean." A slow drag of his gaze, head to toe and back again. "If you insist..."

Oh my god.

Your foot connects with his shin. Hard. He grunts, flinching back. Good.

"Touch me again," you growl, "and you lose your dick."

He holds up his hands. The picture of innocence. "Message received."

"Is it?" You cross your arms. Narrow your eyes. "Because it seems like you're having trouble understanding basic fucking boundaries."

"Nah, I get it." But there's a wicked glint in his eye, and oh, that can't be good. "No telling your friends about all the filthy things we do."

"There is no we.” You jab a finger at his chest. "No us."

A slow nod. "Right."

"I mean it, Rogue." You hold his gaze, unflinching. "This?" A sharp gesture between your bodies. "Doesn't leave this apartment."

"Mm." His tongue swipes over his bottom lip. Deliberate. Obscene. "So I shouldn't mention how you like it when I—"

Your hand clamps over his mouth, muffling his words. "Finish that sentence and die."

He grins against your palm, wholly unrepentant. Bastard.

You drop your hand. Take a step back. "I'm serious, Ry."

"Oh, I know." But there's a curl to his lips you don't trust. Not one bit.

"Do you?" You cross your arms. "Because it sounds like you're angling for a free pass to run your mouth."

"Nah." He mirrors your posture, arms folding over his chest. “Just getting a feel for the rules."

Right. Sure. "The rules are simple." You hold up a finger. "Rule one: no one knows we're fucking."

A nod. "Easy enough."

"Rule two," you continue, "if anyone asks, we're just roommates."

"Uh-huh." His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. Considering. "That all?"

Wariness prickles up your spine. "Why?"

A shrug. Too casual. "No reason."

Bullshit.

You shake your head. "Just—forget it. Are we done here?"

Jungkook watches you for another long second.

Then he nods. "Yeah, we're done."

He turns, already reaching for the doorknob, when—

"Oh." A pause. Like he just remembered something. "And just so we're clear—this isn’t exclusive, right?"

You blink. "What?"

He glances back, expression easy. Casual. "Like, I can fuck other people. That cool with you?"

A laugh bursts out of you. Short. Sharp. "Why the fuck would I care?"

His mouth twitches. "Dunno. Just making sure."

"Well, consider it confirmed." You fold your arms. "Do whatever the fuck you want, just—"

He lifts his brows. "Just?"

"Don’t give me an STD." You level him with a flat look.

He snorts. "Noted." A beat. Then, amused— "You want test results?"

"Oh, fuck off, Rogue."

"Just offering, Phoenix." His smirk lingers for half a second before his expression smooths out. "So, rule number three, then."

You narrow your eyes. "Rule what?"

"Rules." He gestures between you. "One: no one knows. Two: if they ask, we're just roommates." A pause. "Three: no feelings."

Something in his voice shifts, something light but pointed, like he's not saying it just for your benefit.

You scoff. "Yeah, no shit."

He nods once, satisfied. "Cool."

And then he's gone, door clicking shut behind him like the whole thing never happened.

The air in the room is suddenly too thick.

You exhale sharply, back hitting the wardrobe, and press your palms over your face.

God damn him.

Not just for being an insufferable pain in your ass, but for being right. Because logically, there's no reason to keep this a secret—he's not your boyfriend, he's just your roommate who happens to fuck you sometimes. It's not a big deal. It's not anything.

But something in you rebels at the thought of anyone knowing. Of having to explain yourself, to justify your choices. You've had enough of that to last a lifetime, enough of measuring every decision against someone else's expectations. Enough of being told what you should want, what you should do, who you should be.

This thing with Jungkook? It's yours. Messy and stupid and probably a horrible idea, but it's yours. The one thing in your life that nobody gets to have an opinion about, that nobody gets to control but you.

And maybe that's fucked up. Maybe normal people don't feel this desperate need to keep parts of themselves hidden, to maintain this iron grip on every aspect of their lives. Maybe they don't lie awake at night planning escape routes from their own decisions.

But you've never been very good at normal, have you?

You straighten, smooth your shirt, school your face into something neutral.

Then you open the door, step back into the living room, and pretend like your world isn’t tilting.

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