#and they almost recorded me IN THE WAITING ROOM | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jaeyunluvbot · 2 days ago

Text

possibility

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 angst, seungmin is kind of a dickhead, poor y/n, seungmin x fem!reader

word count 𝟅𝟈 5.3k

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The apartment feels eerily quiet, except for the faint sound of Seungmin’s voice coming from the bedroom. You’re curled up on the couch, blanket draped over your shoulders, staring blankly at the paused movie on your tv. The half-empty mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table has long since gone cold.

This has been your routine for weeks now—waiting. Waiting for Seungmin to finish his meetings, his calls, his endless planning for the comeback. You understand. You’ve always understood. Being an idol is demanding, and he’s worked so hard to get where he is. But lately, the understanding has felt heavier. Lonelier.

Tonight, this feeling is especially prevalent, with Seungmin having promised you he’d have the night open specifically for you, no work calls or meetings. You’d been overjoyed at this news, planning a movie marathon for the two of you, a way to reconnect after weeks of distance.

The night had been exactly what you needed, a relaxing evening with the love of your life who had finally cleared up his schedule enough to make time for you. Except, the love of your life was currently on a surprise work call, speaking in a clearly frustrated tone in the other room.

You scroll through the photos on your phone, lingering on one from a few months ago. Seungmin had a shy smile on his face, holding up a peace sign while you snapped the picture. That was before the chaos of schedules consumed him—back when there was still time for dates and lazy mornings in bed.

You hear the creak of his door opening and perk up instantly, setting your phone down. Seungmin walks out, a notebook in one hand, his hair messy like he’s been running his fingers through it all day.

“Hey,” you say softly, your heart lifting just a little at the sight of him. He doesn’t respond, heading straight to the kitchen.

You follow him, watching as he rushes around the apartment, looking for his keys and wallet. “Wanna finish the movie?” you ask, leaning against the counter.

“Hm? Oh, I can’t, Chan needs me to re-record a few lines for the title track,” he mutters without looking at you.

Your stomach twists. “You’ve barely had a break all day, Seungmin. Don’t you think it can wait until tomorrow?”

Before he can respond, his phone buzzes again. He picks it up, reading the message with a frown.

“I really have to go,” he says abruptly, finally finding his wallet and keys, which had been tossed haphazardly on the kitchen counter when he arrived home earlier that afternoon.

“What?” you ask, your voice rising in disbelief. “It’s almost midnight!”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” you ask, following him to the door, wanting desperately to beg him to stay for once. “It’s so late, Seungmin. You need rest. Can’t someone else handle it?”

“My lines aren’t right for the track, I have to fix them,” he says, slipping on his shoes.

“Please,” you say, your voice cracking. You reach for his hand, but he doesn’t stop moving. “Can’t you stay? Just tonight?”

He pauses, just for a moment, his back to you. Then he sighs. “I really can’t, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He opens the door without even looking back, leaving you standing in the middle of the room. He doesn’t kiss you goodbye.

The sound of the door closing echoes in the empty apartment. You let out a shaky breath, the weight of his absence pressing down on you. Crawling into bed feels like defeat, and the sheets are cold without him beside you.

You understood that his job depended on this, and that he was a perfectionist to his core, always criticizing his own work, no matter how good it was, but you had thought that maybe he could finally put work aside to spend the night with you. Clearly, this was a foolish thought, or wishful thinking, but you thought that your three-year relationship was important to him, now you weren’t so sure.

As you get ready for bed that night, your mind is plagued with thoughts of Seungmin, of the good times the two of you had once shared. You crawl into your empty bed, the cold sheets reminding you again that he would always put his job over you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next morning, you move through the rhythms of your daily routine, getting up, showering, and cooking yourself breakfast. The act is painful, as you’d usually cook for both you and Seungmin, and you find yourself getting two mugs out of the cabinet without thinking, another ache shooting through your body as you remember that he’s not here and that he never came home last night.

Your day at work isn’t any better, with grades being due soon and kids trying to turn in late work for extra credit so their parents wouldn’t be mad at their report cards.

The only semblance of relief you get is when your coworkers join you at lunch, chatting happily as you grade papers and projects, distracting you from what’s going on at home.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You’re just finishing your shower when the sound of the door unlocking catches your attention. You glance at the clock—6:00 p.m. Seungmin steps in, looking exhausted, his hoodie wrinkled, and his bag slung lazily over his shoulder.

He doesn’t say anything right away, just sets his things down and heads toward the kitchen.

“Hi,” you say softly, following him. “You didn’t come home last night.”

“They kept me late,” he replies, opening the fridge. “I crashed at the studio.”

You cross your arms, leaning against the counter. “You could’ve at least let me know. I was worried.”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” he says with a shrug.

“Not a big deal?” Your voice rises slightly. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye when you left, and then you just… don’t come back? Do you know how that feels?”

He sighs, shutting the fridge without taking anything out. “Y/N, I didn’t have time to think about it. Work is crazy right now.”

“Work is always crazy,” you shoot back. “It’s always your top priority, Seungmin. Always.”

“Because it has to be!” he snaps, finally turning to face you. His face is a mix of frustration and exhaustion. “Do you think I can just slack off? This is my career, Y/N. It’s not optional.”

You feel a lump forming in your throat, but you push through. “I’m not asking you to slack off. I’m asking you to care about us as much as you care about your job. To care about me.”

His jaw tightens, his voice colder than you’ve ever heard it. “Some of us have actual jobs, Y/N. We don’t all get to hang out with a bunch of kids every day. I have to provide for us.”

The words hit like a punch to the stomach. Your breath catches, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. He’s never talked to you like this before.

“That’s what you think of what I do?” you manage to whisper. “You think my job isn’t important?”

He groans, rubbing his temples. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, you did,” you say, your voice trembling now. “You know how insecure I’ve always been about my career. About how little I make compared to you. You’re supposed to be the one person who doesn’t look down on me for it.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. “You always put your job first, Seungmin. You never think about how it feels for me to be left behind all the time. And now this? It’s like I don’t even matter to you anymore.”

“That’s not fair,” he says, his tone defensive. “You don’t understand the pressure I’m under. I’m trying to keep everything together, and all you do is cling to me like I’m supposed to fix everything for you.”

You flinch at his words.

“I’m sorry being with me is such a burden to you,” you snap, your voice breaking.

He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t do this right now. I’m going to the dorms.”

Your heart drops. “What?”

“I need space,” he says, grabbing his bag again. “I can’t handle this right now.”

“Seungmin,” you say desperately, stepping toward him. “You just got home. When are you coming back?”

He hesitates at the door, not looking at you. “I don’t know. I just… I need to think.”

And then he’s gone.

You stand there in stunned silence, the apartment suddenly feeling impossibly empty. You sink onto the couch, wrapping your arms around yourself as the tears come.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next few days are a blur. You try to keep yourself busy, filling the emptiness with noise and routine. Work becomes your refuge, the chatter and laughter of your students a temporary distraction from the heaviness that lingers in your chest.

You smile at your coworkers during lunch, laugh at jokes you barely register, and nod along to their conversations. To anyone else, you look fine—maybe a little tired—but fine.

But the truth is, you’re unraveling.

The apartment is too quiet now, each room a reminder of his absence. His toothbrush is still next to yours in the bathroom, his favorite hoodie draped over the back of the couch. The silence is suffocating, and every time you catch yourself glancing at the door, hoping he’ll walk in, the ache in your chest deepens.

At night, it’s worse. You lie in bed staring at the ceiling, the space beside you cold and empty. You clutch his pillow, trying to hold on to the faintest trace of him, but it’s not the same. His hoodie having lost his scent from how often you’d been wearing it in his absence.

When Felix texts you to check in, asking if you’re okay, you respond with a cheerful, “Just busy with work! How are you?”

And when Han calls, his voice warm and teasing, you force a laugh, telling him everything is fine.

But they’re not convinced.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

One evening, you’re cleaning up after dinner when there’s a knock at the door. You open it to find Felix and Han standing there, both holding plastic bags filled with snacks.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to sound surprised, though the sight of them makes your heart clench with relief.

“Just thought we’d check in on you,” Felix says, his tone light but his eyes searching yours.

Han holds up the bags. “And bring supplies for a movie night. Unless you’re busy?”

You shake your head quickly. “No, I’m not busy. Come in.”

They settle on the couch while you grab drinks from the fridge. You can feel their eyes on you, their concern unspoken but heavy in the air.

As the movie plays, Felix nudges you gently, offering a gummy bear. You take it with a small smile, grateful for the distraction. Han cracks jokes throughout the film, his energy infectious. For a while, you almost forget the weight you’ve been carrying.

But when Felix casually drapes an arm over your shoulders, you stiffen, the familiar comfort of his affection too much to handle. You pull away slightly, pretending to adjust the blanket.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice low enough that Han doesn’t hear.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, just tired.”

He doesn’t push, but you catch the glance he exchanges with Han.

After they leave, the loneliness sinks back in, an unwelcome, but familiar feeling. You curl up on the couch, clutching your phone, your thumb hovering over Seungmin’s contact.

You want to text him, to ask if he’s okay, if he’s coming home, if he still wants this.

But you don’t.

Instead, you put the phone down and stare at the ceiling, wondering how things got to this point. The pit in your stomach only growing when you think about how long it’s been since he’d spoken more than a few words to you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Seungmin sits on the dorm couch, his head tipped back against the cushion, eyes closed. The weight of exhaustion settles heavily on him—physically, mentally, emotionally. Work had been relentless lately, and though he knew he should feel relief at finally being back in the dorm, the quiet nagging in his chest wouldn’t let up.

The sound of a door opening pulls him from his thoughts, and Chan appears, a towel slung over his shoulder, fresh from a shower.

“Yo,” Chan greets, pausing when he notices Seungmin’s expression. “What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home with Y/N?”

Seungmin exhales sharply, sitting up straight. “I’m staying here for now. Work’s been...hectic, and it’s easier to be closer to the studio.”

Chan narrows his eyes, leaning against the doorframe. “That’s a load of crap, and you know it.”

“It’s not—”

“Nope, stop.” Chan cuts him off with a hand. “I’ve known you long enough to see right through you. What’s really going on?”

Seungmin doesn’t respond immediately, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “We had an argument,” he mutters.

Chan raises an eyebrow. “Okay, and? Arguments happen. Why are you avoiding her instead of fixing it?”

“It’s not that simple,” Seungmin snaps, his voice harsher than intended. “I just... I needed space.”

Chan sighs, crossing his arms. “Look, I get it—work’s a lot right now, and relationships aren’t always smooth sailing. But avoiding her? Leaving her alone while she’s probably upset? That’s not right, man. You’re better than this.”

Before Seungmin can respond, the front door swings open, and Han and Felix step in, their energy noticeably different than usual.

Felix places a bag of leftover snacks on the counter, avoiding Seungmin’s gaze, while Han throws himself onto a chair with a pointed huff.

“Something wrong?” Seungmin asks cautiously, his brow furrowing.

“Not with us,” Han says, voice clipped. “But Y/N? Yeah, she’s not doing great, if you even care.”

Felix doesn’t say anything, but the disappointed look he shoots at Seungmin feels sharper than any words.

“What do you mean?” Seungmin’s stomach sinks, his voice softening.

“She’s hurting, Min,” Felix finally says, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “She’s trying to hold it together, but it’s obvious she’s struggling. She misses you. We can see it.”

Han leans forward, his expression uncharacteristically stern. “You should’ve seen how she lit up when we showed up. Like we were giving her air after she’d been holding her breath for days. And even then, she barely touched us. You know how she usually is—always clinging to us.”

Felix nods. “But not now. She’s pulling back, trying not to be a burden because you made her feel like one.”

Seungmin’s jaw tightens, shame creeping up his spine. “I didn’t mean to make her feel that way.”

“Then fix it,” Han says bluntly. “You’re the only one who can.”

Chan chimes in, his voice quieter but no less firm. “You’ve got to decide what’s more important, Seungmin. Work will always be hectic. That’s the nature of our job. But Y/N? She’s not always going to wait around for you to figure it out.”

“The comeback is so close, it’s only a few weeks, I’ll make it up to her after promotion is over.”

Chan rolls his eyes, “What if she’s not there in a few weeks? What if she gets tired of waiting for you to get your shit together? Then what?”

Seungmin inhales sharply, abruptly standing up from the couch and tossing the blanket on the floor, “I don’t need this from you all, I’m just trying to do what’s best for the team.”

Seungmin then leaves the living room, storming into his bedroom, and slamming the door behind him with a force that makes the walls shake. He stands there, panting, hands clenched into fists at his sides. His heart races, blood pounding in his ears.

He can’t believe the audacity of the guys. Han and Felix had no right to be upset with him—he’s the one who’s been working nonstop, the one who’s been carrying the weight of the comeback, and they don’t understand that.

They’re taking her side, Seungmin thinks bitterly. They don’t even know what it’s like, how much pressure I’m under.

He throws himself onto the bed, his anger turning to frustration. The guilt is there too, gnawing at him, but he shoves it aside. It’s too much to think about now. He needs to focus on work.

But no matter how hard he tries, his mind keeps drifting back to Y/N. You haven’t messaged him, called, or done anything that would make him feel like you're still holding onto him, and for some reason, that stings worse than he thought it would.

The thought of you—alone, without him—is almost too much to bear.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next few days pass in a blur. Seungmin tries to push through the exhaustion, but it’s impossible. He’s barely functioning at work, his focus slipping during practices, missing notes during recording, and forgetting his lines. His energy is drained, and his usual sharpness has been dulled by the mix of stress and guilt.

At one point during a practice, Chan pulls him aside, his face uncharacteristically stern. “Seungmin,” he says in a low voice, “you’re not performing at your best, and it’s affecting the group. You need to stop and get your head straight.”

Seungmin opens his mouth to argue, but Chan cuts him off. “No, you’re not doing any more work until you fix whatever’s going on in your head. Go home. Rest. You’re burned out, and you can’t keep pretending that everything’s fine.”

Seungmin’s jaw tightens in defiance, but he knows there’s no point. He’s never seen Chan like this before—so firm, so sure. Reluctantly, he nods.

He returns to the dorm, barely dragging himself to his room before collapsing into bed. The silence in the place is suffocating, and he feels his frustration build once more.

Felix and Han avoid him completely. When he passes by them, they don’t make eye contact, don’t greet him. The tension is unbearable.

He can’t stand it.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

After a few days of aimlessly rotting in bed, Seungmin finds himself sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at a half-empty cup of coffee. The weight of everything is crushing him.

Felix and Han are in the living room, talking softly, but Seungmin knows they’re talking about him. He can feel the way they avoid him, the way they give him pitying glances when they think he’s not looking.

Finally, Han breaks the silence, his voice calm but unwavering. “You know, Seungmin, we tried to warn you.”

Seungmin looks up, his eyes flashing with irritation. “What are you talking about?”

Felix doesn’t even look up from his phone, his tone clipped. “You’ve been acting like an asshole. You can’t just shut out Y/N because you’re stressed, especially not after everything she’s done for you. You pushed her away, and now you’re both suffering.”

Seungmin feels the sting of their words, but he doesn’t let it show. He scoffs. “And what? Now you’re all going to take her side?”

Han meets his gaze with a level look. “No, we’re not ‘taking her side.’ We’re just saying—before she was your girlfriend, she was our friend. We care about her, and we don’t like seeing her go through all this because of you.”

Felix finally looks up, his expression tight with frustration. “She’s been putting on a brave face, but we know it’s tearing her up. She misses you, and instead of working it out, you’re here moping like you’ve been wronged. You’re the one who fucked up, Seungmin.”

The words cut deep, far deeper than Seungmin expects. His chest tightens, and for a moment, he’s at a loss. The guilt from all the tension and unresolved feelings crashes over him, but the anger he’s been holding onto keeps him from fully letting go.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

Han stands up, walking over to the table, his expression softening slightly. “Well you did, and you can’t expect us to ask her to wait for you when you haven’t made any effort to keep her.”

Felix nods in agreement. “Obviously, we don’t want you two to break up, but why should she sit around and wait if you won’t even check on her and let her know you care?”

Seungmin looks down at his hands, feeling embarrassed at their words, despite knowing deep down that they were right. He fucked up, but now he’s in so deep that he doesn’t know how to fix it.

Seungmin’s chest tightens with each passing second, the weight of everything finally hitting him all at once. The guilt, the anger, the frustration—it all comes crashing down. His eyes sting, and before he even realizes it, tears begin to form.

He lets out a shaky breath, trying to steady himself, but the emotions he’s been bottling up are overwhelming. The anger he had towards you, the defensiveness, the fear of being vulnerable—it all seems so insignificant now. His mind goes blank, and he feels like he can’t breathe.

Felix and Han look at each other in shock. This isn’t the Seungmin they know. He’s always been one to push his issues away in front of other people, and he certainly hasn’t ever cried in front of them like this.

Seungmin’s voice cracks as he finally speaks. “I don’t know how to fix this,” he says, his words barely a whisper. “I don’t know how to make it right. I’m terrified she’s going to leave me.” He wipes at his eyes, as if that could make the feeling go away, but it doesn’t. “I fucked up so bad.”

Felix’s usual calm demeanor softens as he moves to sit next to Seungmin, placing a hand on his back. “Seungmin...” he starts, his voice gentle but firm. “You’ve always been the one who holds everything together. But you can’t do that by pushing people away. You know that, right?”

Han joins them, his expression filled with concern. “You’ve always been our rock, but you’re human, man. You make mistakes, but that doesn’t mean it’s over.”

Seungmin looks down, his hands trembling. “But she’s... she’s everything to me. And I hurt her. I don’t deserve her.”

Felix and Han exchange another look, the weight of his words sinking in. After a long pause, Han speaks, his voice softer now. “You fucked up, yeah. But one thing about Y/N is that she’s one of the most forgiving, kind people we know. She won’t walk away from you for making a mistake. And she loves you, Seungmin. Even when you hurt her.”

Seungmin shakes his head, still not able to fully accept it. “But what if... what if she can’t forgive me this time? What if I’ve ruined everything?”

Felix’s hand gently rubs his back, trying to offer some comfort. “You’ve hurt her, but you’re not beyond redemption. You just need to own up to it. Apologize. Show her you’re trying to change.”

Han adds, his voice firm but caring, “You can’t expect everything to go back to normal overnight, but Y/N has always been there for you. She’s patient. And even if she doesn’t take you back, you need to make it right with her, for your own peace of mind at least.”

Seungmin’s breath hitches as he struggles to process their words. He feels so small right now, like he’s lost control of everything, but at the same time, hearing them say that you still love him gives him a small glimmer of hope.

“I don’t deserve her,” he murmurs again, voice thick with emotion.

Felix smiles softly, a bittersweet look in his eyes. “You do. You’re just... human. You’re not perfect, but she loves you anyway. So go and fix it. Don’t let your pride get in the way of what the two of you have built together.”

Han gives him a light shove, a smile tugging at his lips. “And you know, we’re not going to let you off the hook that easy. You’ve got work to do, but you’re going to get through this. And when you do, Y/N will still be there.”

Seungmin wipes at his eyes, taking in a shaky breath. He feels exhausted, emotionally drained, but the weight on his chest is starting to lift just a little. Maybe there’s a way to make things right after all.

“Thanks, guys,” he says, voice still thick with emotion but filled with gratitude. “I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this.”

Felix and Han both nod, standing up as they ruffle his hair in their usual affectionate way.

“You’re welcome, bro,” Felix says with a soft smile. “Now get to work, and make things right with Y/N.”

Seungmin nods, his heart heavy but determined. The path ahead won’t be easy, but he knows he has to face it, not just for himself, but for you too.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next morning, Seungmin wakes up with a pounding headache, the events of the past few days replaying in his mind. He barely slept, tossing and turning, but now he’s awake, his body exhausted but his mind more clear than it’s been in days.

He stares at the ceiling, his thoughts swirling. The guilt from how he treated you gnaws at him, but so does the realization that he doesn’t want to lose you. He knows he messed up, but now all he can think about is making things right.

The first thing he does is check his phone. There’s a text from you—your usual check-in message, though it’s curt, different from the warm, affectionate messages you used to send him. You’re trying to be polite, trying not to show how much he hurt you. He sees the small signs—an ‘I’m okay’ that doesn’t sound convincing, an emoji that’s more of a placeholder than anything genuine. It stings more than he expected.

He quickly types a reply, his fingers trembling slightly as he types out the words he’s been thinking all night.

“I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t mean what I said. Can we talk later? I’ll be back soon.”

After hitting send, he gets out of bed and heads for the shower, trying to get himself together. He knows it’s going to be a long day, but it’s the first step toward fixing everything.

Checking his phone, he sees a message from you, telling him he can come over. It’s so short and devoid of any personality that it almost makes him reconsider his decision to go see you. He steels his nerves, knowing that he’s the one that did this to you, so it’s his job to fix it.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

When Seungmin arrives at your apartment later in the afternoon, his nerves are shot. His hands are clammy, and he can barely sit still. It feels like he’s walking into a minefield, unsure of how things will go.

You’re sitting on the couch when he enters, your posture stiff, as if you’ve been waiting for this conversation but dreading it at the same time. Your eyes don’t meet his as he steps inside, and a lump forms in his throat.

He opens his mouth, then closes it. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he needs to apologize for. He feels stupid for how he acted, for pushing you away when you only wanted to love him. The silence between you both stretches on, neither of you knowing where to begin.

Finally, you sigh and look up at him. Your expression is guarded, but the pain in your eyes is impossible to ignore. It breaks him, but he can’t shy away from it. He has to face it.

“Seungmin, I don’t know what to say,” you say quietly. “I don’t know how you went from being so sweet to... to treating me like that. I get it, you’re busy, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alone when you’re around.”

Seungmin feels his heart drop at your words. He takes a step closer, swallowing hard. “I know I hurt you, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I was overwhelmed, and I took it out on you. That’s not your fault. I never should’ve said those things. I just... I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I let everything build up, and I pushed you away when you were just trying to be there for me.” His voice breaks slightly, but he keeps going. “I didn’t mean what I said. I never want you to feel like you’re a burden to me, because you’re not. You’re everything to me.”

You don’t say anything, your gaze fixed on the floor as you process his words. Seungmin takes another step closer, reaching out, but hesitates for a moment before gently placing his hand on yours. You flinch, just barely, but you don’t pull away.

“I love you, Y/N,” he continues, his voice thick with all the feelings he’d been bottling up during his time away. “And I’m terrified that I’ve ruined everything. I know I can’t take back what I said, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I promise.”

There’s a long pause before you finally look up at him, your eyes red, and he can see the raw emotion in them. He realizes you’ve been crying, and it makes him feel worse, knowing how much his actions have hurt you.

“I don’t know if I can just forget it, Seungmin,” you say softly, your voice tinged with sadness. “It hurt too much. You made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Like I was just a burden that you had to deal with.”

Seungmin’s chest tightens, and he pulls his hand back, feeling the sting of your words. “I didn’t mean that. You’re more than enough. I’m the one who messed up. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own stuff that I couldn’t see how much I was pushing you away. And I hate that I did that.”

You look at him for a long moment, your eyes searching his face as if trying to gauge whether he truly means it. You take a deep breath and stand up. For a moment, Seungmin’s heart skips a beat, unsure of what you’re going to do. But you face him, standing in front of him, arms crossed.

“I’m not asking you to fix everything overnight,” you say, your tone firm but soft. “But you have to show me that you’re sorry. That you actually care. I need to know that you want to be here for me, even when things are hard.”

“I do. I do care. More than anything,” Seungmin says, his voice low. “I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I’ll show you. I promise.”

You study him for a moment longer before finally nodding, though it’s clear you’re still hurt. “I’m going to need time, Seungmin. I need to trust that you’re not just saying this because you feel guilty. I need you to prove it.”

Seungmin’s heart sinks, but he nods, knowing that you’re right. “I will. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just please... don’t give up on me.”

You look at him one last time, your eyes softening a little. “I’m not giving up on you. But you need to work for it.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

As the days pass, Seungmin tries his best to show you that he’s serious about making things right. He’s more attentive, more patient, and he makes an effort to be there for you, even if it’s just for a few minutes every day. He cancels unnecessary meetings, takes time off from work when he can, and always makes sure to check in with you.

You start to soften again, but the walls you put up are still there. It’ll take time, but Seungmin’s determined. This is his chance to prove that he’s worthy of your love, and he won’t let it slip away.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𝟅𝟈 wrote this instead of doing my schoolwork lmao

masterlist.

#jaeyunluvbot #kpop #angst #skz angst #seungmin angst #seungmin #kim seungmin #stray kids #seungmin x reader #stray kids x reader #y/n #stray kids x y/n

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lovelyshu · 2 days ago

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han jisung and yn being absolutely in love with each other for 5 minutes — [1.3m views]

description. Cute moments caught on camera between han and yn

tags. f!reader, gidle!reader, maknae!reader, use of yn, gidle has a video with skz of competition, reader calls him oppa like once

comments. I have nothing to say, these are just some random scenarios I thought about and wrote. Please enjoy! <3

✰ first clip

During an award event, yn was yet again lost in the crowd. And the other members were trying to find her, even if discreetly.

But then, one of the cameras caught yn bumping into someone. Well, that someone being han jisung.

It was clear even from a distant that both of them got embarrassed by it, quickly bowing and apologizing.

Both of them stayed there awkwardly smiling, until han grabbed his phone to show yn something. To which she excitedly typed something in, before seeing Shuhua running in her direction.

Saying a quick goodbye, she ran off to shuhua's arms, having to listen to a scold and a teasing about always being lost.

What the camera did not caught was their conversation.

“You got his number?!”

“Yess!! I'm literally dying right now!”

“If he says anything bad to you I'm hunting him down all over Korea!”

✰ second clip

As the chk chk boom challenge went viral, a lot of idols were quick to do them. That meant that yn was also doing it.

In the clip, yn is seen trying to hold back her laughter, standing right next to han who was with the same expression waiting for the chorus to begin.

Yn did the challenge with han smoothly, until she messed up at the very end, making both of them burst out in laugh.

Laughing, yn lost the strength to keep standing on her legs, now almost falling to the floor.

Well, until han almost ran (even if they were already pretty close) to her and caught yn on his arms, still laughing.

It's very hard to see due to the camera, but if you squint your eyes hard enough you'll notice a tint of blush on jisung's face, and yn slowly getting more flustered if not for the video ending.

✰ third clip

During han's one kid's room, one of the topics were about people he really cared about.

As the conversation went on with mentioning all of the members and his family as well, until jeongin remembered of someone.

“Isn't there yn too? He's always talking about her.”

“Oh yeah you're right, han never shut ups about her.” - Hyunjin continued, all of them now laughing at some inside joke.

When it was jisung's turn to talk, he said almost the same thing, until he looked down for a moment smiling, suddenly feeling shy.

“There's also yn. We talk a lot and she's probably the closest person I have outside the group and my family. She's very special.”

✰ fourth clip

Gidle was in an interview, answering fans questions about their songs, life, future comebacks and the usual.

Some of the questions were directed to specific members. And one of them being "Does yn have someone she really loves apart from her group?"

Thinking for a moment, yn smiled without even noticing, excited to answer the question.

“Yeah! I really love han from stray kids. His very friendly and kind, I enjoy his company a lot.”

The other members looked at her with widen eyes, a surprised smiled on all of their faces, making yn confused. Until she understood what it might have sounded like.

“I-I mean that in a friend way! I love him as my friend!”

And that was all it took for them to start laughing at her, soyeon even holding on her shoulder lightly.

✰ fifth clip

Felix was recording a vlog, filming the backstage before one of their shows. Everything was chaotic as usual, as he talked about the show.

Suddenly, han came out of a room, not noticing the camera. Felix went silent as he pointed the camera to the man, now hearing what he was talking about.

“Have yn called to any of you? My phone is almost dead so turned it off. She said she would call me before the show begun.”

He continued to talk about the idol, until noticing the camera, making him freeze for a moment before slowly waving at it, an awkward and shy smile on his face.

Jisung was already walking away, regretting his life decisions, and wanting to disappear even more as Minho shouted to him.

“No, she haven't called yet!”

✰ sixth clip

Miyeon was filming a vlog of how their day was going. Yuqi and shuhua were talking on the couch, while soyeon and yn were no where to be seen.

Searching for them, miyeon caught the sight of yn sitting on the corner of the room, hugging a little quokka plushie, a photocard and cellphone in hands.

Giggling to herself, she approached the girl, who quickly noticed the camera and was desperately trying to hide the objects.

“Hi miyeon unnie! Do you need anything?”

“I'm just filming our daily life. What are you doing?”

Yn stared at her with a dumbfounded smile, pressing a few times on the screen before showing it to her unnie.

“I'm listening to our songs.”

Miyeon knew she wasn't, but not wanting to make the poor maknae die on camera, she just nods, walking away to continue the filming.

✰ seventh clip

The first time gidle had managed to record something with stray kids, it was a competition between the members.

They formed seven teams with two people, han and yn being paired up together.

After some games and a lot of chaos, the next game they had to play was one in which, two teams will compete, trying to pull the tail from one of the members.

The one who manages to pull the tail out of their clothes first wins. And the final teams to play were han + yn and shuhua + jeongin.

It was the final round, and yn was the one with the tail, while han was mostly trying to protect her and avoid the other two to get too close.

After around thirty seconds in running around, yn managed to pull the tail from jeongin, making both of them cheer in excitement.

Without thinking twice, jisung and yn ran to each other for a hug, staying there for a long moment before pulling away, a slightly timid expression on both of their faces.

✰ eighth clip

At the music bank program, yn had the opportunity to be one of the mcs for a short period of time.

During this time, stray kids went to the program. Yn was doing an amazing job at being the mc, to which jisung complimented.

Feeling shy from his compliment, yn thanked him, clapping her hands together to avoid looking too timid as she smiled.

“Thank you jisung oppa!”

He mirrored her smile, as the other members laughed a bit.

After a few seconds of talking, seungmin bumped into han's shoulder, not saying anything, but a smirk forming on his face.

Han only looked away, embarrassed by the tease, without saying anything as well to not get the attention of anyone else.

#೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 single ⠀ᰋ #kpop #kpop x reader #female reader #han jisung #han jisung x reader #han x reader #jisung x reader #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader

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ghostlyreader09 · 3 days ago

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The Crimson Threads: Part Two

aged up damain wayne x yn

hiii! i think i’ll keep with this series💛

The Batcave was still, as it always was. A hollow echo reverberated through the cavernous expanse, filled only by the low hum of monitors and the rhythmic tapping of fingers on keyboards. The glow of digital screens lit the faces of Gotham’s protectors, but the silence between them was thick, palpable—a tension that hung like a storm on the horizon. They had gathered here, in this dark sanctuary, trying to piece together the fragments of a puzzle that eluded them.

Damian stood apart, watching from the shadows, his presence more felt than seen. His arms were crossed tightly, his jaw clenched, every muscle in his body coiled with the same restless energy that had kept him on edge for weeks. He could feel their eyes on him, even if they said nothing. Alfred was the only one who didn’t seem to care for his silence, but even the older man’s usually comforting presence couldn’t soothe the knot that had settled in Damian’s chest.

“What do we know about her?” Bruce’s voice was low, measured, as it always was. The leader. The patriarch. But there was something different in his tone now. Concern. A subtle shift, barely perceptible, but unmistakable to those who had grown accustomed to reading his every mood.

“She’s elusive,” Tim Drake spoke up, his fingers gliding effortlessly across the keyboard, his eyes flicking between lines of code. “But that’s nothing new. Whoever she is, she knows how to stay hidden. She’s got a network of data wipes around her, almost like she’s actively erasing traces of herself.”

“Not just a criminal,” Damian muttered, his voice edged with frustration. He could hear the soft clicks of the Batcomputer as Tim continued his work. “She’s a ghost. A shadow that slips through the cracks.”

“I’ve encountered her,” Bruce said, his eyes dark with a hint of the same frustration Damian felt. “She has a strange ability to heal, yes. But we’ve only seen what she does from a distance. Her powers—there’s something more to them. I need to know what.”

“Her name is Sanguis,” Damian interjected, his voice tight as he took a step into the circle of light. “And she’s more than just a healer. I’ve seen it in her eyes—the way she takes from people. The way she absorbs their wounds. I don’t think she’s just fixing them. She’s using them.”

The room fell silent. The weight of his words hung in the air like a fog, thickening the already suffocating atmosphere of the Batcave.

“Wait,” Jason Todd, the ever-impulsive second son of the Bat, spoke up from across the room, his arms folded, leaning against the wall in that way he always did. “You’re telling me she takes on their pain? She absorbs it? That sounds like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.”

Damian’s eyes flickered to Jason, a brief flash of something darker crossing his features. “It’s not a bomb. It’s… more controlled. Calculated. But the fact remains that she’s hiding something.”

“Could be the price of her ability,” Tim suggested, his voice soft as his fingers danced over the keys, searching for answers that didn’t seem to exist. “Not a lot of data, but there’s been mention of people she’s healed—victims of accidents or injuries. The reports are conflicting. Some say they just walked away, fully healed. But others… there are no records. No follow-up. No sign of them ever being seen again.”

“Or they’ve been taken,” Damian murmured, his thoughts racing. He could feel the puzzle pieces clicking together in his mind, but none of them fit. The weight of the mystery was pressing down on him, heavy and suffocating.

“And she never stays around long enough to talk,” Bruce said with a deep sigh. “She disappears before anyone can ask questions.”

There was a brief pause, a pregnant silence that seemed to stretch on forever. In the quiet, Damian felt a flicker of something—a memory, perhaps. Something that had been gnawing at him for weeks. He saw her face in his mind—her dark, unreadable eyes. The fleeting moment when her touch had pulled the pain from his body, the agonizing sensation of his wounds closing and her own taking their place.

She had healed him. He had felt the exchange—couldn’t deny it now. But what had it cost her?

“What if she’s not… evil?” he asked, his voice quieter than before, as if testing the words in the air. The shift in tone was subtle, but unmistakable. He had never voiced such a thought aloud. It was dangerous to even entertain it.

Bruce’s gaze flickered to him, sharp and calculating, as though the words themselves were a betrayal of everything they stood for. But instead of reprimanding him, he merely tilted his head, considering. “You’re suggesting she’s… what? A vigilante?”

“I don’t know,” Damian admitted, his voice low. “But she’s doing something more than what we’ve seen. She’s healing—yes. But there’s something about her… something beneath it. She’s not like us. But that doesn’t make her a villain.”

Tim, still absorbed in his search, sighed heavily. “I wish it were that simple. She’s not giving us much to go on. Whatever she’s doing, she’s keeping her identity locked down tight. Almost like she’s afraid of being discovered.”

“Afraid of being found,” Damian corrected, his gaze distant, as if seeing something none of the others could. “Not just discovered. She’s hiding something more than just a name.”

Alfred, who had remained silent through the exchange, stepped forward, his gaze steady, his expression unreadable. “Master Damian is correct in his assumption. But I believe there’s more to Miss Sanguis than mere fear or secrecy.”

“Then what is it, Alfred?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s her game?”

Alfred’s gaze flickered to the darkened corners of the cave, as if he were searching for something that wasn’t there. “Perhaps it’s not a game at all. Perhaps she is… something else. Something different.” He paused, his voice softening. “We are all bound by the cost of our choices. Some of us carry our burdens in ways that are visible to the world. And some, like her, bear them in silence.”

Damian’s thoughts stirred, the weight of those words settling in his chest like a stone. Was she truly carrying something heavier than any of them could understand? Was she paying a price for her healing that none of them could even fathom?

The room fell quiet again, each of them caught in their own contemplation. There were no answers yet. No clear path forward.

Finally, Bruce broke the silence. “We need more information. Keep an eye on her. Track her movements, Tim. And Damian,” he turned his gaze to his son, the unspoken weight of expectation between them, “I want you to stay focused. We don’t know if she’s a friend or foe. But we’ll find out.”

Damian nodded, but something in his chest tightened. His father’s orders had always been clear-cut, but this was different. This wasn’t just a mission. Not anymore. Something inside him, something fragile, something unspoken, had begun to change.

————

The next night, as the moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over Gotham, Damian found himself watching from the rooftops once again. His gaze swept over the streets, the alleys, the quiet places where shadows lived.

And there she was—Sanguis.

She moved through the streets like a wraith, her cloak trailing behind her, her every step graceful and unhurried. She didn’t see him, not yet, but he was watching—watching her as she healed, as she touched the broken bodies of those who had been torn apart by Gotham’s cruelty.

Her power was a strange and wondrous thing, and he could feel it even from a distance—the way she moved, the way she shifted the very essence of life within the bodies she touched. She wasn’t just a healer. No, that was too simple.

She was a keeper of souls, a silent guardian who traded her own strength to save others.

Damian’s fingers clenched at his sides. This city didn’t need another shadow in the night. But maybe, just maybe, it needed someone who could walk between the light and the darkness. And for the first time, he wondered if he was the one who had misunderstood her.

—————

The night wrapped itself tighter around Gotham as if the city itself were waiting for something. Damian perched silently atop a gargoyle overlooking a dim-lit alley, his eyes tracing the winding path below, where Sanguis had just appeared. The flicker of her silhouette was familiar by now, a shadow within shadows, and every time he saw her, the tension within him grew.

Tonight, he didn’t follow her immediately. He wanted to observe, to understand without moving, without the pressure of confrontation. For the first time, he wasn’t chasing her like prey, as he had done in the past. Instead, he was waiting for something—some crack in her armor that would reveal the truth. Her power was undeniable, and yet he couldn’t reconcile the idea of her as a threat, a mere villain in the shadows. No, there was something more to her.

She had to be more.

Damian leaned forward slightly, letting the cool breeze of Gotham wash over him, but his eyes never left her. The way she moved through the alley, that quiet grace, the fluidity of her steps—they didn’t belong in Gotham. They felt like they belonged to another time, another world, one where healing and pain weren’t bound by the same rules as the harsh city streets.

There’s something about her.

She stopped in front of an abandoned building, kneeling beside a man who lay prone, his face contorted in pain, blood staining the pavement. Damian could tell from here that the man had been injured in a violent attack—his body was broken, his breath labored.

But as always, Sanguis didn’t hesitate. She simply knelt beside him, her hands glowing faintly in the darkness. A soft hum seemed to vibrate in the air as her fingers moved over the man’s chest, his body slowly beginning to mend beneath her touch. She was absorbed in the work, oblivious to the world around her. The man’s breathing evened out as his injuries closed, his pulse stabilizing. It was like watching a miracle unfold, but as always, Damian’s sharp eyes saw the cost.

Her hands trembled slightly as the blood began to settle, as if it had taken something more than just the injury from the man. Her face, normally calm and unreadable, showed the faintest flicker of strain.

There it is again.

The odd sensation—the way she never seemed to just heal. She was taking something from the world around her. Absorbing it.

Damian could feel his pulse quicken. He wanted to rush down, confront her, demand answers, but he didn’t. Not yet. Something in him had changed over the past few weeks. This wasn’t the same cold pursuit, the same bitterness that had once fueled him. No, now he had questions—questions that were pushing him in directions he didn’t want to go.

As she finished with the man, standing slowly, she turned her face upward, as if sensing the eyes that were watching her. Her gaze swept over the rooftops, briefly settling on his position, but she didn’t react. No surprise. No fear.

She knows.

For the first time, Damian felt exposed. The battle wasn’t just about his identity anymore. It was about something much deeper, something tangled in the spaces between their secrets.

Her voice broke the silence, quiet, almost a whisper that was carried away by the wind. “You’re here again.”

Damian didn’t move. He stayed where he was, his gaze never leaving her. “You’re hard to track.”

“And you’re predictable,” she replied smoothly, the hint of a smirk in her voice. “Your shadows follow you too closely.”

He felt his lips tighten at her words, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “Why do you do it? Heal them. Take their wounds. What’s the point?”

Her eyes met his, dark as the night itself, but there was something new there—a flicker of something that Damian couldn’t quite place. Was it… pity? Or something softer? She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she turned her gaze back to the man at her feet, who was now stumbling away, looking dazed but unharmed.

“The point?” She repeated, almost as if the word were foreign to her. “You think I do this for a reason? Because I’m some kind of hero?”

“Are you?” Damian asked, his voice steady, but his mind was racing. He wanted to understand. Needed to.

Her lips parted, then pressed together as if the words were too sharp to speak. “I do it because I can. Because I have no other choice.”

There was a crack in her voice—barely perceptible, but there nonetheless. It unsettled him more than anything she had ever said.

“Choices…” Damian echoed, taking a step toward her. His feet moved of their own accord now, drawn to the vulnerability in her words, to the soft, aching truth that seemed to seep out when she least expected it. “What makes you think you don’t have one? You don’t have to—”

“I don’t have a choice,” she interrupted, her voice suddenly harsh. Her fists clenched by her sides as if her own words caused her physical pain. “This power—this curse, I can’t escape it. If I stop healing them, if I stop taking their injuries, I don’t know what will happen to me.”

Damian felt the breath catch in his chest. A curse?

The thought lingered between them like a thread, fragile and delicate, but no less real. Her face softened then, as if the anger had burned itself out, leaving only the exhaustion behind.

“I don’t do this for glory,” she continued, her voice quieter now, the weight of her words pressing down like a fog. “I do it because I have to. Because if I don’t, I don’t know who else will.”

Damian’s gaze softened. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the way the shadows seemed to part around her, revealing the raw, aching truth she had been trying so hard to hide. Maybe it was the way she stood there, alone in the heart of Gotham, carrying the weight of others’ pain as her own.

For a moment, they stood in silence, the world around them seeming to hold its breath.

Damian’s voice was barely more than a whisper when he spoke again. “That doesn’t make you weak. You know that, right?”

Her eyes flickered toward him, the barest trace of something—hope?—in them before she looked away again, her gaze fixed firmly on the pavement below.

“I’m not looking for anyone’s approval,” she said softly. “I’m just trying to survive.”

Damian didn’t know what to say to that. How could he? He had spent his life surrounded by people who fought because they had to—because Gotham had demanded it. But this was different. She wasn’t just fighting the city; she was fighting herself.

A faint memory crossed his mind then—the first time he had encountered pain that wasn’t his own. The first time he had been forced to watch someone else bleed for a cause that was beyond him. It had felt like a betrayal. A mistake.

But as he watched Sanguis, standing there in the moonlight, her power both a gift and a curse, he began to understand. She had never had a choice.

And for the first time, Damian didn’t know if he wanted to stop her—or if he wanted to help her.

————

Bruce, Tim, and Alfred were in their usual positions, scanning through data, as they always did. But Damian’s eyes were distant. He couldn’t stop thinking about her—about the weight of her words, the way she had felt when she stood in front of him, the way her power had pulsed against him, as if there was something more to it than just healing.

But he wasn’t about to say anything—not yet. He wasn’t sure what it meant, what he was feeling. All he knew was that he had to keep watching her.

Because there was still so much she wasn’t telling him. Something that he had to know.

thank you!!!! any recommendations or ideas for this story is greatly appreciated, and i do take requests! 💕💕💕

sanguis is latin for life-blood and might

#batman #dc x y/n #dc #dcu #dc universe #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #duke thomas #x yn #damian wayne x reader

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lychee-bear · 2 days ago

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These are my favourite characters from (almost) every object show i watched/read, so many funky little characters!

Took me 6.5 hours to draw all 23 characters, which I'm quite happy about! Proud of how it came out too,,,

Speedpaint here!

Can you name them all? Names under cut:

Airy - hfjONE Yaori - ИНМТ (CFMOT) Record - BURNER Dynamite - Objectified Price Tag - BFDI:TPOT Micheal - Love of the S*n YinYang - Inanimate Insanity Invitational Tophat - The Nightly Manor Five - The Waiting Room Cherry Blossom - The Acronym on Tomorrow Badgey - Escape From Abject Reality Traffic Light - At the Cylinder of Events Vegan Gains - THANOS Gara - Battle for Pogone Gray - Mysterious Object Super Show (MOSS) No Way - IT'S TIME FOR THE Map - Modern Objects Moonlight - The Daily Object Show (TDOS) Rooty - Object Legends PC - Unconventionally Centered Lipstick - IVOS Walkie Talkie - Cast 139 Guarana - Open Source Objects (OSO)

#osc #osc art #object shows #hfjone #airy one #ИНМТ #cfmot #burner osc #price tag tpot #micheal lots #yinyang ii #the nightly manor #itft osc #cast 139 #open source objects #objectified comic #At the Cylinder of Events #Escape From Abject Reality #i cant tag all this sorry

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amethystsoda · 2 years ago

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I did not come into work to be recorded in a tiktok by my coworkers

#and we're a medical office #so we have HUGE privacy rules bc of HIPAA #so I warned them not to have any charts with patient names in the video #and they laughed at me for being worried about it #and they almost recorded me IN THE WAITING ROOM #WITH PATIENTS IN THE BACKGROUND #(I would be fuming if someone did that without my permission in a medical setting that REQUIRES PRIVACY)#I don't want to taste colas #I am the asshole but I think it's reasonable #amethyst rambles

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gingerbreadmonsters · 1 year ago

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ginger, cracking an eyelid and thinking about opening requests for a little bit? its more likely than you think 👀👀

#redacted asmr #i never say it in as many words but my askbox is almost always open 🥳🥳#to be honest i am rubbish at actually filling reqs so its probably not a good idea #im so fucking picky about what to write and the kinds of things that appeal to me #plus like....... most reqs that come in tend to be for things that im either not great at and/or dont particularly vibe with yk #its nobodys fault that writing david feels like pulling teeth its just the way it is you get me #hence why in my pinned it makes it clear that i take Suggestions rather than Requests #thing is i could do reqs or we could do like another ask game or smth #yeah another issue w me and reqs is that my little goblin brain just CANNOT stay on track and it fucks me up Every Time 😭😭#the prompt will be like 'uhhhh elliott sunshine beach day fluff uwu' and i will get 100 words in and #think 'wait what if they were actually dead/imprisoned/doomed the whole time that would be so fun' and then thats all i can write #i mean i started what was SUPPOSED to be DAMN crew cute halloween fluffy stuff and all of a sudden they're all dead so #not a great track record on my part #i cant stand a close plan there has to be room for improvisation #which is awkward when someone has asked for smth specific 🫣🫣#ginger rambles #oh also anon is off bc i am not putting up with any more ridiculous horseplay in my inbox no sir #fuck around in my askbox and..... actually don't find out bc surprise! i deleted it already sorry who are you again

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kimkaelyn · 8 months ago

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Ditto [s. todoroki]

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀, 𝑜�� 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜 — 𝒟𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜, 𝒩𝑒𝓌𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈

→ summary: when you transferred to U.A., you didn't anticipate slipping on a pair of chopsticks in the middle of the crowded cafeteria during your first week. however, what was more surprising was the unexpected fall for the boy who gracefully caught you.

→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers

→ word count: 13.1k

→ warnings & tags: sfw, female pronouns are used, usage of y/n l/n, Class 1-A are now third-year students aka 18+, swearing, the usual U.A. chaos, reader has a Quirk, misunderstandings, some training violence, minor injuries, mentions and discussions of insecurities, aizawa briefly belittles the reader as a form of motivation, beginnings of a panic attack but it's cut short, there is one instance of the reader appearing to be ‘flushed’ in regards to a fever, since this is my first bnha fic some characters might be ooc? | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!

→ author's note: AHHHH HERE IT IS! I've been working on this for almost a year now and I am so excited to finally share it with all of you. Honestly, I didn't think I would ever finish this story, but I kept slowly chipping away at it thanks in part to the encouragement from @andypantsx3, @missrosegold, and @getstarried. Special thanks to @pikatsum for beta-reading this for me! Thank you girls. This is for you🫶🏻

The cafeteria at U.A. High School was a pretty chaotic environment, you quickly learned within your first week after transferring from another Hero Course in the countryside. There were multiple things that could and would happen after the famous students had gotten some much-needed nutrients in their systems.

It was only three days into the school year and nothing had happened just yet, but in the U.A. world, that something was overdue.

The first chaotic event of the year that everyone had been anxiously—or in some cases, excitingly—waiting for happened on Thursday.

The day started off average; you got to school with three minutes to spare, which was a new record, but you had forgotten your pencil pouch in your dorm room, so you had to borrow some pencils from a girl who sat in front of you; Mina Ashido.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you took the pastel pink utensil from her. There was even a cute little fluffy puffball at the end in exchange for an eraser. Good thing you had an eraser in your bag.

“No problem! I gotcha!” She physically lit up and gave you a bright smile before turning back to focus on the blackboard.

You somehow managed to get through your morning classes running on the four hours of sleep you got the night before. You were cutting it quite close to passing out at your desk during calculus class, but you were saved by the lunch bell.

As soon as you stepped foot into the hallway, you were wrapped up in the faint, delicious scent of your favorite food coming from the cafeteria. Your mouth instantly watered, and you made a mad dash for the source of the delicious scent.

“Hey!” a sharp voice made you freeze in your steps. You glanced over your shoulder to find Tenya Iida, Class 3-A’s representative, glaring at you. The light reflecting off his glasses made him appear more threatening than he really was, but regardless, you still found yourself shying away from his harsh glare and rapid-moving hands. As they passed by, some students gave you apologetic smiles while others were not shy about openly staring at the scene before them, wondering what you possibly could have done to induce the wrath of the student representative. “There is to be no running in the halls!” You cowered some more at his brisk and overly formal tone.

Geez, what a stuck-up, you thought to yourself.

“My apologies, Iida.” You respond with a bow. He accepted your apology with a curt nod before he continued on his way to the cafeteria.

You waited for him to pass before rising from your bow. “Wow, he makes it feel like I broke the law or something.” You mused aloud.

“Don’t take it personally,” a comforting voice said from behind you. You turned to find Momo Yaoyorozu, Ochako Uraraka, and Tsuyu Asui standing before you. Ochako gave you a slight wave in greeting. “Iida can be quite demanding,” Yaoyorozu reassured you.

“Thank you.”

Tsuyu regarded you with gentle onyx eyes. “It’s L/N, right?”

You smiled, happy that she remembered your name from roll call. “Y-yeah! I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I, um, already know who you guys are.” You suddenly felt shy, and you bashfully rubbed the back of your neck out of nervous habit.

Before your transfer was finalized, you did extensive research into your future school’s history and future classmates. Thankfully—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—a lot of information is public knowledge; the various attacks on the school in the year leading up to and the conclusion of the War between the Paranormal Liberation Front and the Heroes, not to mention the various televised sports festivals, and the fact that the members of Class 1-A are practically household names even before their graduation.

The girls invited you to sit with them in the cafeteria. You had been keeping to yourself the first few days of school, choosing to observe from afar the already established social circles and friend groups. You had waited for an invitation to join one of said groups, and here was your opportunity.

The four of you made small talk as you made your way through the lunch line and to the table. Right away, Asui told you to call her by her given name. You told them about your life growing up in the countryside—with you and Uraraka bonding over your shared reason for becoming Pro Heroes—about the friends you had, embarrassingly funny stories from your junior high days, and eventually what led you to transfer to U.A.

“Well, this is the best Hero Course in the country!” you all laughed. “But to be frank, the only teacher at my old academy who could handle my Quirk retired, and none of the other academies within the prefecture had the resources to help me advance. Plus, my mentor is an U.A. alumnus, so naturally, the only other choice was U.A.”

Yaoyorozu hummed. “It is a shame about your mentor retiring, but that is what led you to transfer to U.A., and for that, I am grateful.” The class vice representative regarded you kindly. “I am a firm believer of things happening for a reason, and your transfer doesn’t change that.”

Uraraka nodded her agreement. “Momo’s right. U.A. is a place where anybody can make a difference, and I think you will find success here.”

You were rendered speechless. The tips of your ears turned red as your classmates regarded you with so much hope and sincerity in their eyes. “Uh . . . I,” you bashfully scratched the back of your head. Not knowing how to respond, you instead reached for the small bottle of milk on your lunch tray and brought it to your lips.

However, before you could take a sip, a BOOM erupted from the front of the cafeteria, accompanied by a gruff voice yelling, “Don’t walk in front of me, Icy-Hot!” You reflexively jolted at the loud noises and lost your grip on the glass, spilling the half-full bottle all over the front of your uniform.

“Shit,” you exclaimed as you instinctually rose from your seat, only to quickly sit down again when the liquid started to fall to the floor. The girls gasped and were quick to hand you all the napkins in the vicinity.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Asui asked as she watched you pat down your sodden skirt.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You waved off her concern as you continued to wipe away the remaining liquid. The napkins managed to soak up most of it, but your skirt was still damp. If you didn’t change skirts, you were going to smell of milk for the rest of the day, and you didn’t want to start off the school year with a reputation for smelling vile. “I’m going to go back to the dorm really quickly and change into a clean uniform. Please let Mr. Snipe know that I will be late for class.”

“Do you want us to accompany you?” Yaoyorozu asked. She began to rise from her seat, but you stopped her.

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You gave her what you hoped to be a reassuring grin instead of a grimace. “Thank you for offering, Yaoyorozu, but I’ll be fine.” Before your classmates could respond, you stood from the table and made your way to the exit.

Great, this is just great, you thought as you walked, not really paying attention to where you were going. As soon as I make some friends, I make a fool of myself.

Unbeknownst to you, there was an obstacle in the aisle directly ahead. You were too distracted by your growing inner turmoil to notice the pair of metal chopsticks lying on the ground before you until your foot made contact and slipped out from under you.

It all happened so fast that you couldn’t even react.

Time froze as you became weightless, and you felt your body become briefly suspended in the air. Before you could react and rotate your body to prevent yourself from violently banging your head on the tiled floor, gravity took hold and yanked you back down toward the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness your classmates’ reactions to your misfortune.

Great, now I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of the entire school. Fuck you, chopsticks.

You prepared yourself for the pain of hitting the hard floor but were shocked when you were suddenly wrapped in a chilled warmth. You did slam into a hard surface, but this didn’t feel like the cold tile you expected.

“Are you all right?” a voice asked from above. You opened your eyes, only to find yourself captivated by a beautiful graphite and turquoise gaze. Your mouth opened to respond to the inquiry, but you couldn’t speak. This strange yet calming gaze hypnotized you, causing the rest of the world to fade into a buzzing silence. You watched as the perfect eyebrows of the owner of those magical eyes furrowed downward at your prolonged silence, the action momentarily drawing your attention.

With your attention span no longer zeroed in on the heterochromatic gaze, the world around you suddenly slammed back into your senses at full force. The volume of your fellow classmates’ conversations was deafening at first, but your ears grew accustomed once again to zone them out and focus on the person before you.

It took about thirty seconds for the entirety of your current predicament to register within your brain.

You were hanging about ten centimeters off the ground. The only thing keeping you upright and injury-free was Shouto Todoroki’s firm grip on your wrist.

“Um, hello?” the dual-haired teenager once again drew your attention to him. His grip slightly tightened before he tugged you up onto your feet.

“I think you broke her, Icy-Hot.” A rough voice drawled from your peripheral.

The intrusion of the other voice is what finally brought you out of your stunned silence. “No, I’m okay. Not broken.”

“Did you hit your head?” Todoroki inquired. He steadied you on your feet but didn’t release your wrist from his hold. Katsuki Bakugou was standing off to the side, trying to appear like he wasn’t involved with either one of you.

“I-I don’t think so.” As you reached down to brush yourself off, you caught a whiff of the unflattering scent of old milk emitting from your clothes. You held back your gag and turned to face Todoroki and Bakugou. “I’m sorry to rush, but I really do need to go.” You gave a quick bow. “Thank you for catching me, Todoroki. Bye!”

The two boys watched you sprint away like a bat out of hell. “T’fuck is her problem,” Bakugou muttered. “Fuckin’ extra makin’ me late for lunch.”

Todoroki didn’t respond to his classmate’s remarks. His lips pursed together as he watched you nearly run into a couple of first years before you disappeared around a corner, out of sight.

“Don’ even think ‘bout it, Icy-Hot.” Bakugou drawled from beside him. Todoroki cocked an eyebrow, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise indifferent expression. “Gettin’ involved with ‘hat extra will ruin your precious bloodline.”

You tried to forget about the cafeteria incident, but the embarrassing ordeal refused to secede from the forefront of your mind. As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers a minute, antagonizing and overanalyzing every second of what had happened.

As the night dragged on, your thoughts shifted from the overall event to one single individual: Shouto Todoroki. You knew who he was, of course. You didn’t grow up underneath a rock. Yet, you weren’t prepared for how much more handsome he was in person than on the news or in photos.

You overanalyzed everything he did in the brief two minutes you were blessed to be in his company, every word he said, and every brief flash of emotion that showed in his heterochromatic eyes. Todoroki had tried to approach you after training in Ground Beta once you had returned from the dorms, but you avoided him, not wanting to face him again so soon after the embarrassing first meeting.

By Sunday, you had begun to forget about your embarrassing cafeteria incident. Your newfound friends didn’t bring up the spilled milk, and thankfully, they didn’t see you slip on the chopsticks and fall into Shouto Todoroki’s muscular arms. You breathed a sigh of relief when you found out that last part. You didn’t want them to think you were a total klutz.

Todoroki may think otherwise.

As you were rounding the corner to walk back up the stairs to head back to your dorm room, Todoroki happened to be walking down. You both turned at the same time and walked straight into each other.

He wasn’t fazed by the sudden collision; however, you were taken completely off guard. No matter how strong you may be, suddenly walking into about a hundred kilos of pure muscle would make anyone stumble. While he remained steadily standing, you, on the other hand, fell back onto your ass.

It took about three seconds for the two of you to comprehend what the hell had just happened. You groaned out when pain flashed across your backside.

“My apologies, I did not see you.” Todoroki said as he offered you a hand. You begrudgingly accepted his assistance, face heating as your super handsome classmate helped you to your feet for the second time in a week.

“Thank you,” you bowed your head to him. You brushed away some dust from your sweatpants, finding yourself too shy to look back up.

You felt a firm, yet gentle hand land on your shoulder. You jerked your head upwards to meet Todoroki’s captivating gaze. “Are you injured?” His heterochromatic eyes searched you for any injury, and they glimmered with relief when he found none.

“No, I’m okay,” you reassured the male. “I may be a little bruised in the morning, but I will be fine.” Not to mention my bruised ego.

Todoroki hummed in acknowledgment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. His eyes were hyper-fixated on you, leaving you to feel bare under his intense gaze.

You shifted your weight back and forth as the silence between you dragged on for a couple more seconds. “Um, I—” You cleared your throat. “I should be on my way now. Got things to study, you know.” You told him with an awkward laugh.

You moved to step around him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to move. Your movements are what must have shaken him out of his stupor, with him bashfully stepping to the side to allow you access to the stairway.

“Right.” He said as you walked by. “Take care, Y/N.” You startled at his sudden usage of your given name, but nevertheless, you felt oddly relieved. You smiled shyly and bid him goodbye. Nothing else was said between the two of you, but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the stairs.

I hope he likes cinnamon; you thought as you peered into the oven.

To be fair, you should have considered that before laboring for over two hours making kinako cinnamon cookies from scratch—which absolutely failed. Therefore, as a last resort, you were forced to run to the store and buy a box mix.

The he in question?

Shouto Todoroki.

It had been several days since your embarrassing first interaction with the dual-haired male and forty-five hours since your second, literal, run-in—not that you were keeping track, of course.

You wanted to do something nice for him as a way to apologize for your newfound clumsiness and thank him for his assistance in both instances. Your calligraphy skills were not . . . up to par, so to say, by any means, so a handmade thank-you card was off the table, and you highly doubt Todoroki was a flower guy. Not to mention his affluent background, so buying him a gift or offering to take him out to dinner was null—and way too straightforward for two people who were barely even acquaintances.

Therefore, you were left with only one option: homemade cookies.

Besides, all the old aunties back home always said the quickest way to win anyone over was through food.

“Ooooh, something smells amazing!” someone exclaimed from the stairway. Smiling slyly to yourself, you turned away from the oven to the new arrival.

You hadn’t interacted much with Rikido Sato save for the casual good morning greetings and thanking him for the delicious red velvet cupcake he baked for you as a welcoming gift to U.A.

“Thanks,” you said, grinning at the male.

The combined low mutterings of more approaching classmates brought your and Sato’s attention to the doorway where Mina Ashido, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, and Hanta Sero were entering the dorm.

“Woah something smells fantastic!” Kaminari said, gazing into the kitchen in hopes of spotting the source of the delicious scent.

“Yeah, it does!” Kirishima agreed.

“Oh my gosh, what is it?” Ashido asked as she walked over. Her eyes lit up when she spotted you. “L/N! Did you make something?”

“I did.” You confirmed with a slight nod. “I’m making kinako cinnamon cookies.”

“Oooooh, yummy!” the pinkette exclaimed as she bounced over to peer into the oven. Your other classmates quickly joined her, all of them staring into the soft, golden light of the oven with stars in their eyes.

“They look so good!” Kaminari was practically drooling at the tawny treats. At that moment, the timer went off with a soft ting! You politely shooed your classmates back as you pulled a hand towel over your hands.

“Step back, everyone,” you warned as you opened the oven door. “They’re going to be hot.” You carefully reached in and grabbed the cooking tray, cautiously sliding it off the rack and fully into your cloth-covered hands. Despite taking precautions, you hissed as the hot aluminum seeped through the towel and made contact with your flesh. As quickly as you could without dropping the pan of cookies, you turned and set it down on the kitchen island.

“These look delicious!”

“Woah, man, they look amazing!”

“I bet they taste as scrumptious as they lo—”

You zoned out the boys’ compliments as you moved to the sink and turned on the tap.

“L/N, are you okay?” Ashido asked as she followed you. Her question caught the other's attention, and they, too, turned to watch you quizzingly.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Your response ended with a wince as your skin made contact with the cool water.

“Here, let me see,” Ashido gestured to your hand. With your permission, she took your wrist with gentle fingers and held it up for you both to inspect. Your skin was reddened slightly, but it wasn’t anything serious. You let out a sigh of relief. “It’s not serious, thankfully, but we should still put some burn cream on it just in case,” Ashido advised as she turned off the tap.

You nodded your head again and followed the pink-haired girl as she went to retrieve the first-aid kit. Before you walked too far from the kitchen, you shouted over your shoulder to your classmates, “Please don’t eat the cookies, boys! They are still hot and are for someone special!”

There was a noticeable delay in response to your warning. After a pregnant pause, there was a muffled, “okamph!” in response. You were about to turn around and make sure that they weren’t eating your treats, but Ashido calling your name changed your plans.

“Let’s fix you up, yeah?” She said as you both entered the girls' bathroom. Ashido gestured for you to sit on the counter while she dug through the first-aid kit for burn cream.

“Thank you, Ashido,” you said a few moments later as she lightly applied the cream to the worst of the reddening. Your skin wasn’t blistering, which was a good sign, but it was beginning to ache.

“No problem,” she replied. She began to gently rub the cream into your skin, mindful of the sore spots. She beamed at you as she said, “And you can just call me Mina. We are friends!”

You smiled at her. “Okay, Mina.” The two of you were silent for a couple of minutes as Mina continued to dress your burns.

“So,” she started, breaking the silence. “Who did you make the cookies for?”

You sharply inhaled. “W-what? What do you mean?” You tried to play it off by playing dumb, but Mina gave you an are you kidding me look.

“Don’t play that game with me, girl.” She scolded you. “So, tell me, who is this ‘special someone’?”

You let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “One of our classmates. . .” You trailed off, turning away from the pinkette, and absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

Mina’s eyes lit up and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh my God, seriously?!?” She squealed. You turned to face her again. “Girl, you absolutely gotta tell me! Who is it?!” She went to grab ahold of your hands but stopped herself when she remembered your injury. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You said. “But, um, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words, but you couldn’t find them. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” You said, barely above a whisper, turning away from your classmate once more in embarrassment.

Mina leaned back, taken by surprise by your change of tone. She studied you for a few seconds, her expression falling when she saw the look on your face; the clenching of your jaw.

“It’s okay, girl,” she reassured you. She set the roll of bandages down on the counter as she finished wrapping your hand. “You don’t have to tell me who your crush is if you don’t want to.”

You whipped back around to face her, eyes wide. “C-crush?!” you stammered out. “W-what?! I don’t have a crush! I never said I did.” you explained.

“Yeah, sure,” Mina smirked at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t of baked cookies for them if you didn’t like them.”

“Um, because I’m nice?” you asked with a lilt in your voice. Mina does have a point, though, you thought.

Mina laughed. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”

A couple of minutes later, you and the pinkette exited the bathroom, laughing over something Mina had said. Your hand had been expertly wrapped and treated with some burn cream. Your injury didn’t even hurt anymore, but you were still going to check in tomorrow with Recovery Girl as a precaution.

As you rounded the corner to go back into the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes fell to the now-empty pan where twenty cookies sat not even ten minutes ago. Mina stopped next to you, and you could see her giving you a questionable look, but you didn’t—couldn’t—acknowledge her. You just stared blankly at the pan, trying to process what you were seeing.

What the hell? you thought.

“Ah, man,” a voice drawled out. You slowly turned towards the source; Denki Kaminari. He was lounging against the counter as he rubbed his stomach for emphasis. “Those cinnamon kinako cookies were delicious!” Your brain blanked out when you heard that, the organ pathetically trying to comprehend and respond to the current situation.

“You’re telling me!” Kirishima piped up from beside the blond. Sero and Sato voiced their agreement from where they were seated on the couches. “They really hit the spot after the day I had.” The redhead noticed you and Mina. “Hey, guys, welcome back!” he greeted with a wave, a broad smile overtaking his features. “How’s your hand?”

You did not formulate an answer right away, your brain still processing the crumbled remains of your cookies. Your delay didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but before they could question it, Mina came to your rescue.

“It’s okay! Y/N is alright, nothing major.” She informed them. Kirishima’s gaze left you to focus on the pinkette by your side, but Kaminari’s remained transfixed on your blank expression.

“Oh, well, that’s great to hear! I was worried—”

“But you should be ashamed!” Mina cut the redhead off, tone sharp as a blade. “All of you.”

“What—?”

“Mina, why—?”

Kirishima and Kaminari spoke at once, their voices clashing, but the pinkette interrupted them once more.

“Y/N didn’t make those cookies for you.” She said. “She made them for someone special, yet you guys ate them even after she told you not to.” She just about bit the last part out. The boys gaped at Mina, her scolding catching them by surprise.

“Is that true?” Sato asked, rising from the couch to approach you. Everyone fixated their attention on you, waiting for a response.

You hesitated at the sudden limelight, and also in shyness. When you originally set out to bake the kinako cookies for Todoroki, you didn’t expect them to 1.) burn your hand and 2.) for them to be eaten by others. Even though you were upset, you didn’t want the others to be ashamed or scolded. But they did eat them after I told them not to, you thought, pondering your next move.

After a few moments, you squared your shoulders and steadily said, “Yes. I . . . made them for somebody.” At your words, the room’s atmosphere soured. The boys’ shoulders slumped as they realized their mistake.

“Shoot, L/N, I’m sorry,” Kaminari said, stepping forward to gently grab your uninjured hand and bow.

“Yeah,” Kirishima added, scratching the back of his neck and looking away slightly. “That wasn’t really manly of us.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Sero intoned, looking sheepish.

Sato came to stand in front of you next to Kaminari, who still had a gentle hold of your hand. “I’ll be more than happy to remake the cookies for you.” He said. “If you want that, of course.”

You smiled, though it was closed-lipped. “Thank you, Sato, but not today.” He bowed his head.

Suddenly, the front doors slammed open, startling the six of you. You all watched, shell-shacked—you did, at least—as a fuming Bakugou stepped inside, loudly exclaiming, “I had ‘hat dumbass villain handled! Damn Sidekick extra jus’ had to step ‘n and—” He noticed your little group gaping at him. “The hell ‘re ya fools lookin’ at?” As the words left his mouth, the other two members of the infamous U.A. trio entered as well.

“Kacchan,” Izuku Midoriya said, trying to placate the explosive male. “He was just trying to . . .” The rest of his sentence fizzled into the background as the entirety of your attention span landed on Shouto Todoroki.

It had already been well-established that the youngest Todoroki son was even more handsome in person, but seeing him in his Hero costume did things to you. Your mouth almost dropped open to gawk at his god-like appearance, but you clenched your jaw tightly shut to avoid that catastrophe. Despite that, you were pretty positive your eyes were as wide as saucers, greedily taking every inch of him in as if it were the last time you would see him.

I should sue him for the cost of my medical bills when I develop heart palpitations, you thought.

“Shut the hell up, ya stupid nerd.” Bakugou snapped at a sputtering Midoriya, drawing your attention once more. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“Is he always this angry?” you asked under your breath; half-serious, half-rhetorical.

“Oh, yeah,” Mina confirmed, voice just as low.

Sero snickered from his post next to Sato. “You get used to it after a while,” he reassured you.

One of Kirishima’s blinding smiles makes its appearance once again. “Katsuki’s always been passionate about, well, everything.” He told you, not bothering to lower his voice. “It’s who he is. We love him regardless.”

Sato chimed in with, “Platonically.” The boys snickered and Mina rolled her eyes, yet there was a small smile playing on her lips.

“Even though his sour attitude can be harsh and lowkey over the top,” Kaminari began, eyes shining with mischief. “It sure makes him fun to mess with!” Your companions groaned in exasperation and started to voice their reservations.

“No, Denki. Leave him be—” Mina urged him.

“Awe, come on, man. Don’t—”

“Heyy~ Katsuki,” Kaminari crooned, rocking back on his heels as the pale blond’s attention zeroed in on him. Kirishima and Sato facepalmed. “Why have trouble catching a ‘dumbass villain’?” he teased. “Bad day? Your head not in the game?” The hair on your arms rose to attention as an electric charge swept the room, putting everyone on edge. Kaminari’s baiting also drew the attention of the explosive male’s companions. Your eyes briefly met captivating graphite and turquoise, eliciting a sharp gasp to leave your lungs.

“You’re gonna regret the day you were born, dumbass!” Bakugou bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the electric blond, snapping your attention from the hypnotizing gaze. You fully expected him to charge the male, already taking a cautionary step back, but instead of explosions ripping apart the building, Bakugou grunted and moved towards the showers.

Mina turned to the blond and shouted, “Now why did you do that, Denki? You know better than to rile Katsuki up like that!”

Kirishima dragged a large hand down his face before running it through his unruly red locks. “I’ll go check on him,” he announced before jogging after the sandy-blond. You were at a loss for words as you continued to watch your classmates scold a shit-grinning Kaminari, not even the tiniest bit remorseful for his teasing of Bakugou.

“Please don’t take Kacchan’s rashness to heart.” A new voice piped up. You turned to meet the electric green gaze of none other than Izuku Midoriya, the new generation’s proclaimed Symbol of Peace. “I’m s-sorry, I don’t think we have properly met. I’ve been in and out of campus lately—with missions and such.” He practically skipped over to stand in front of you. He smiled brightly as he gently took your hands in his large, calloused ones. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. I’m so happy you are here at U.A.!” he excitedly exclaimed, lightly squeezing your entwined hands. You couldn’t hide your wince and small gasp of pain as Midoriya unknowingly squeezed your burns. The green-haired male let go of your hands so fast as if he was the one burned instead of you, eyes growing wide. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” he asked, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your hand. Midoriya’s frenzy caught the other's attention, and all eyes were on you yet again.

The tips of your ears grew hot at the unwavering attention from the Heroes-in-training—especially from a certain icy-hot male who made your heart falter in its beating. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine.” You stuttered as you met each of your classmate's gazes, trying to reassure them of your stability.

“What happened?” Todoroki inquired, eyes hawkishly zeroed in on your face.

“U-um, well . . .” you trailed off, words fading from your brain as you slightly cowered under his unwavering attention. “I—”

“She burned herself while baking kinako cookies,” Sero spoke for you, having caught onto your growing anxiousness. You didn’t miss Todoroki’s eyes narrowing at the black-haired male’s words. Sato and Kaminari made noises of agreement, the blond absentmindedly rubbing his stomach in content.

Midoriya’s eyes shined. “Really? You did?!” He looked behind you to the kitchen, eyes searching for the aforementioned treats. “Where are they?” he asked when he didn’t spot any, only a plate littered with crumbs. He turned his attention back to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but a wave of shame overcame you as your eyes once again met those of the one you had made the cookies for.

Mina noticed your hesitation, giving you a knowing look as she answered for you. “The three idiots to your left ate them all,” she said with a little bite to her words, glaring daggers at the culprits. “After they were specifically told not to.” She reaffirmed. The boys shuddered at the reminder of their disobedience. The pinkette turned her attention back to the green-haired and dual-haired males. “I patched her up, though. The burns are minor.”

Midoriya nodded his head in understanding. “You should still see Recovery Girl,” he instructed, unashamedly expressing his concern for someone he had just properly met. “At least let her take a look at it.”

“I’m going to stop by to see her in the morning,” you reassured him, words coming back now that your mind was a little clear. His shoulders slumped in relief.

“You should rest, Y/N.” Todoroki’s searing gaze trailed over your form, calculating eyes searching for any additional outward signs of injury or discomfort. “After suffering an injury, no matter how insignificant, rest is important.” He softly chided.

“R-right.” You stammered out, at a loss for how else to respond to your handsome classmate's concern other than compliance. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at that moment. Your feet stumbled as you became lightheaded for a split second. You noticed the dual-haired male take a step towards you, catching onto your sudden exhaustion, but you quickly rightened yourself. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You’re not exactly sure why you thanked him, or what for. His concern, perhaps? He subtly nodded as you turned from the small group, breathlessly mumbling some sort of farewell and something about retiring to your room for the rest of the day.

The others muttered their goodbyes as you made your way to the stairwell.

As you walked up the stairs, head hung low, your throat began to burn and your vision began to blur with tears. The first one fell when you reached your floor, quickly followed by a couple more. You wiped them away, sniffing, as you made your way to your door. You didn’t react to the sudden presence next to you and the weight draped around your shoulders.

Mina didn’t say anything, only traced comforting circles into your back as tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

The next day, you and your classmates were gathered outside Gym Gamma for an impromptu training session. You were surprised that Class 3-A still regularly trained together, but in your defense, that assumption came from someone who didn’t have many options when it came to sparing partners up until your transfer—a major shortcoming in retrospect.

“Today we are working on ‘last stand’ combat.” Mr. Aizawa drawled in his natural I Don’t Give A Fuck tone. “Close-quarter combat in which a violent assailant has obtained the upper hand and corners you in an attempt to defeat you.” He proceeded to explain the instructions of the training exercise and pair the students into groups of four who would take turns being the Heroes and the assailants.

“Midoriya will be with Jirou.” Mr. Aizawa intoned, briefly glancing at the two students to confirm they heard. “Todoroki will be with L/N.” Your muscles stiffened when you heard that. Your heart began to race as you watched the red-and-white-haired male make his way over to you.

“H-hi,” you greeted him, giving a soft smile.

“Hello,” he said, politely inclining his head. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Same here.” You said before facing forward once more as the first group began their round. You and Todoroki observed the match in silence, with you paying extra attention to your classmates’ movements and taking mental notes of how they incorporated their Quirks into hand-to-hand combat.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Expecting the new additions to be Ochako and Asui, you turned to greet them with a warm smile but paused when instead of your friends, Midoriya and Kyoka Jirou were standing next to you, both with warm expressions on their faces.

“Hi!” Midoriya greeted with a wide smile and a small wave. “I’m excited for this training exercise! It’s going to be so cool to see everyone’s improvement with hand-to-hand combat over the break! And any new moves! Or Quirk Awakenings! Or—” You had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying as it turned into a stuttering rant as he went on about each individual’s Quirk.

The rumors were true regarding his ramblings, you mused to yourself, wondering how long he could go on for before a small hand on his shoulder made him take pause.

“Midoriya,” Jirou intoned. “Calm down.” His cheeks flushed a bright red. He began laughing nervously while absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.

“S-sorry,” he said, shyfully.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I agree with your stance, though. Observing others' skills is an effective way to improve your own. Get an idea or two.” You turned your attention back to the ongoing training, taking mental notes of your classmates’ fighting stances and their defensive moves, trying to get a better understanding of the why behind them. You pulled a small item from your jacket pocket, absentmindedly rubbing it between your thumb and forefinger. The movement caught Midoriya’s attention.

“What is that?” he asked, green eyes alight with curiosity.

“What? This?” You held up your good luck charm; a small, pink parrot keychain from a popular cartoon series you had won years ago at one of your hometown’s summer festivals. It was lucky because at the moment, while little you were trying to win, your Quirk had manifested. “It’s my good luck charm,” you explained the pink parrot’s value to you.

“Oh, cool!” Midoriya exclaimed. “You know, I used to have a good luck charm—it was my super rare exclusive All Might trading card! First edition!” His eyes shined as he reminisced. “I would bring it with me everywhere! Even Kacchan—”

“Deku,” drawled a low voice from the other side of your gathered class. The temperature fell as Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed onto Midoriya. “Don’t say another word.”

“He’s such a fanboy.” Jirou chuckled, fondness seeping into her voice. Midoriya smiled sheepishly, not bothering even to try to deny the label. You spent the time until your group’s turn getting to know the two, quickly finding out that you and Jirou share the same taste in music; vowing to swap playlists after class. You were so caught up in your conversation that you almost forgot about Todoroki's presence, if not for the awareness of a body next to you. His chilled warmth seeped into your muscles, causing you to relax one moment, and tense up another.

“Are you all right?” he softly inquired, spying your tensed posture.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You replied, softly smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Just a lil’ nervous, is all.”

Todoroki frowned slightly, not understanding how you could be experiencing anxiousness. “Wh—?”

“Oh yeah!” Midoriya suddenly interjected. “This is going to be your first time demonstrating your Quirk, huh?” he asked you. “Or at least this is gonna be the first time I will see it. What is it again? Object—no—um, yeah, anyway I bet it is awesome!” His eyes still shined with his enthusiasm and curiosity. “Sometime you gotta let me ask you about it! I have so many! Does it work like Ochako’s Zero Gravity? Or Yaoyorozu’s Creation?”

You couldn’t help but give a small laugh at his eagerness. You had never met someone as enthusiastic about Quirks as Izuku Midoriya. It was kind of refreshing to interact with someone as passionate as he was.

“Kind of,” you began, silently pondering over what you know of the brunette’s Quirk and comparing it to your own. “Ochako and I have the same limitations when it comes to the weight of an object, but besides that, our Quirks are different.” Your Quirk was object manipulation; you could telepathically manipulate objects within a certain range. To you, your Quirk wasn’t all that—wasn’t anything unique by any means—but to others, you were seen as a powerful goddess. “To be honest, I’m lacking in hand-to-hand combat skills.” You sheepishly smiled.

“Really?” Midoriya asked, blinking in shock. “I thought your previous school would have prepared you for all types of situations.” Jirou nodded her agreement with the green-haired male. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Shouto continue to observe you with a calculating expression on his face.

“Unfortunately, no.” You shrugged. “Their curriculum was more focused on improving the individual’s Quirk than learning how to fight without it.”

“Oh, wow,” Jirou said. “That could put you at a great disadvantage down the line.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s why—” You were cut off by Mr. Aizawa calling for your group to begin your training round. “Welp, this is it, I guess.” You chuckled nervously.

Midoriya gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great!” he said, giving you a thumbs-up accompanied by a warm smile.

“Do your best,” Jirou added before moving towards the training pitch.

You started to follow, but a cool hand on your shoulder made you pause, shivering softly. You turned to find Todoroki giving you an expectant look. “You’ll do fine,” he said, confidently. He looked as if he put his entire faith in you. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

You felt a surge of confidence fill you at his words. You gave him a determined look. “Right,” you said. “We got this.”

You swear up and down his eyes twinkled when he looked at you, but it could have been a trick of the light. “You got this.” He replied, softly. The two of you walked into the pitch together, side by side.

The training went . . . not terrible, but it could have been better on your end.

Todoroki, Midoriya, and Jirou were amazing. Even without using their Quirks, they each were a force to be reckoned with. You were captivated by how swiftly they moved—as if they were ballerinas performing Danse des Petits Cygnes.

You weren’t on the same level as them and the rest of Class 3-A. You knew that, and you acknowledged it, but to see and be confronted by it so bluntly in person made you feel a whole other level of embarrassment and shame. You weren’t weak by any means, you could hold your own in a fight for some time, but not like your classmates could—and had.

Perhaps that is what separates you from your classmates. They have battle experience. Hell, they fought in a fucking war for crying out loud while you were on the other side of the country, guarding civilian shelters. You were fortunate not to see much bloodshed, but maybe that brought you to a disadvantage against these future Heroes surrounding you.

The horn had sounded as Jirou pinned you in the dirt for the sixth time, signaling the end of the round. You heard the sounds of Midoriya and Todoroki’s scuffling come to a halt from somewhere off to your left as Jirou lifted herself off of you. She offered you a hand as you began to rise from the ground. You accepted her extended hand with a grimace as the muscles in your back burned.

“Nice work.” Mr. Aizawa said as the four of you approached. “You performed adequately,” he addressed Jirou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. He turned to you. “You, not so much.”

You flinched as the words landed home. Damn, you thought, but he’s not wrong. You had naively allowed yourself to believe that Eraserhead wouldn’t call out your inferiority, at least in front of others. Then again, he was Eraserhead—infamous for his bluntness and apathy.

“Your skills are greatly lacking in hand-to-hand combat,” he continued. “I haven’t seen somebody so physically inadequate since your classmates were first years. Coming from another Hero Course, especially one with its reputation, it’s to be expected that you’re not up to par with your new classmates, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” As he spoke, he never broke eye contact with you, scrutinizing you. Even with one eye, his unrelenting gaze made you feel as if he could see every minuscule detail about you. “Based on the performance I saw today, it was a mistake to put you in this class.”

You heard a gasp from one of your classmates; its owner unknown. You gulped down your shame and remained silent. You had a feeling Aizawa wasn’t finished with you.

“From here on out, I expect you to train harder and push yourself further than anyone else. Extra training, extra classes—anything that will make you catch up.” His eye narrowed. “If I do not see substantial improvement in one month, you will be expelled. No exceptions.”

Your eyes widened, but your shock did not stop you from replying. “Yes, sir.” You said, keeping your tone neutral as you mulled over his words. Although extreme, I understand the reason for Mr. Aizawa’s methods, you thought. He’s right though. I’m far from even scrapping the level these guys are on. I need to be more disciplined and work even harder if I want to stand on equal ground with my classmates. Resolve made, you promised, “I will go Plus Ultra!”

“Yaass, Y/N!” Mina cheered. “Woohoo!”

Aizawa didn’t say anything else to you, promptly dismissing the class. Midoriya praised your performance and commented on his wish to sit down and talk in-depth with you regarding your Quirk. You promptly accepted his request, telling him you would let him know when you were free. He smiled before walking off to join Iida and Ochako.

“If it means anything,” a voice suddenly intoned from behind you. You spun around, having not sensed the person's approach. You weren’t all that surprised to find Todoroki there, softly regarding you. “I think you did well.”

You scoffed but smiled softly. “Thank you, but you don’t have to patronize me. I have a lot of work to do if I want to catch up.”

“You will,” he declared, before quickly clarifying, “Catch up. Especially with my help.”

You furrowed your brows. “Excuse me?”

“Should I repeat myself?” he inquired, his heterochromatic eyes swimming in mirth. “I will assist you in your training and classes.”

You didn’t respond right away, regarding him with suspicion. You waited for him to name a condition for his help, but when he offered none, you relaxed. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You inclined your head. “I greatly appreciate it.”

“Shouto,” he corrected.

You blinked at him, taken aback. “What?”

“Shouto,” he reiterated. “You may call me Shouto. We are friends, are we not?”

You gaped at him for a moment, processing his words. “Ye-yeah!” you said a little too loudly. “We are friends, Shouto.”

The small smile that graced his lips lit up your entire world and caused your heart to speed up, pounding almost painfully against your ribcage. “Meet me here tomorrow after class.” He instructed.

“Tomorrow.” You repeated in confirmation.

His smile grew a little wider. “See you then, Y/N.” He said before turning on his heel and strolling away. You watched him go in a daze, in disbelief of what just occurred.

“Oooooooo, Y/N’s gotta date!”

You shrieked at the sudden voice and spun around for a second time to find Mina standing there, hunched over laughing at your reaction.

“Mina!” you shrieked, placing a hand over your heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

She continued to laugh. “Sorry,” she said once her laughter died down. “You were so entranced with Todoroki that you didn’t even realize I was here!”

“Oh, yeah right.” You responded, playfully rolling your eyes. The two of you began to walk to the dorm. “I wasn’t entranced with him.”

The pinkette gave you a look of disbelief, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure,” she retorted. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you ain’t lying to me.”

You scoffed but didn’t attempt to refute her claims. You put your hands in your pockets and looked to the ground, lost in thought. Mina didn’t say anything else, allowing you both to walk in silence.

The next afternoon, you met Shouto at the training grounds outside Gym Gamma for your first tutored training session. He regarded you kindly as you slowly approached, suddenly feeling quite bashful.

“Thank you for offering to do this, Shouto.” You said when you arrived. “It really means a lot. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”

“There’s no need for repayment.” He softly responded. “I volunteered to assist you. Therefore, no repayment of any sort is necessary.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I don’t want to inconvenience you—”

His soft call of your name made your next words die in your throat. “I assure you, this is fine.” He said. “Your company and attention are substantial enough.” You felt your face warm at his admission. Shouto gestured towards the training pit. “Shall we begin?”

He started by teaching you some stretches that are supposed to help decrease sudden muscle spasms and strengthen them. Afterward, he had you show him the little knowledge you had of hand-to-hand combat to gain an idea of where you stand in regard to U.A. training. Once you had demonstrated the few kicks and different styles of punching you knew, you turned to judge Shouto’s impression.

Your breath caught at what you saw.

His handsome features remained stoically blank for the most part, but the pursing of his lips and slight furrowing of his brows spoke a different tale. He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like they didn’t prepare you at all, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure.

“Shouto?” you inquired, voice slightly uneven as your mouth formed the syllables of his name. “Is everything alright?”

His beautiful eyes snapped to yours, and once again you were frozen by the intensity with which he looked at you. His gaze was calculating, and you could just about see the cogs turning in his brain as he silently regarded you. A couple long moments later, his lips parted on an exhale and he finally addressed you.

“We have a lot of work to do.” He declared. “But we already knew that.” You slowly nodded your head, curious as to where he would be going with this conversation. “Thankfully, you’re not completely helpless,” he intoned dryly. “Even though you don’t have many skills regarding physical, non-Quirk combat, I have identified several places where we can start, correct, and then build on.”

You steadied yourself, resolve firmer than ever before. You declared, “I’m ready.”

Shouto gave a quick, but detailed, overview of his plans for your ‘training tutoring’, you referred to your sessions as. He was going to teach you everything he thought you should know—which was everything he knew—in order to successfully become a Hero people could rely on.

The two of you began by improving your physique. You joined him on his early morning run along with Midoriya and Bakugou, who welcomed you with contrasting fervor. When you met for your afternoon training, you would run five kilometers before learning various grades of combat moves, and then concluding your time together by sparring.

It was established early on that neither of you would use your Quirks during your tutoring as the two of you were well-adapted to your respective Quirks—and the strict rules regarding their usage.

For the next several weeks, you worked tirelessly on your training, and your dedication and hard work paid off. At your end-of-the-month assessment, Aizawa was pleased by your rapid and exceptional improvement and announced you could stay at U.A. He also informed you that it was never his intention to expel you in the first place, but nevertheless, he was impressed by your efforts.

You and Shouto continued to grow closer as time went by. You still had your training tutoring sessions in the afternoons, and you became a regular on his early morning runs. You even hung out outside of class and training; preparing pre-workout meals and drinks together, and various study sessions at all hours of the day and night. Once, you even packed him a small canister of his favorite brand of soba noodles for lunch one of the weekends he was interning at his father’s Agency. When he came back to the dorm after his shift, he made a beeline for you and promptly informed you that from then on out, you would be solely responsible for packing his lunches.

“Now why would I do that?” you implored. You crossed your arms, awaiting his response. “Are you gonna pay me?”

Shouto slowly blinked at you in the way a cat would. “Why would I compensate you for an action you chose to do?”

You had no retort for that.

As you spent more time together, you noticed some changes. Shouto would stare at you for seemingly no reason, and whenever you called him out on it, he feigned innocence. He also sought you out more often, insisting on walking to your next class or to and from the dorm by your side. He even began to occupy you on your shopping runs, dutifully holding your bags for you. And whenever you would thank or compliment him, his whole demeanor would light up as if Aphrodite herself had shown favor towards him.

You weren’t any better, though.

If Shouto would do so much as even blink in your general direction, your heart would soar and butterflies would take flight in your stomach. At first, you brushed it off as nerves for being the subject of the Shouto Todoroki’s attention, but you were in denial, not wanting to admit what was actually occurring. Looking back, you realized that deep down, you had known all along what was happening, but at the time, you weren’t ready to admit it—to yourself and him.

Regardless of your rebuttals and lack of admission, you were falling for your dual-haired classmate, hard and fast, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

3 months later . . .

“Y/N! It’s starting! You’re gonna miss it!” Ochako shouted from the couches, the other girls of Class 3-A surrounding her, all dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the class's annual Girl’s Movie Night, which was held every couple of months. Tooru told you earlier that week that they would like to have it more often, like once a month, but given their hectic and ever-changing schedules, the girls had to settle for every few months. They took turns who got to pick out the movie. It was Mina’s turn this time. True to her nature, she selected an early 2000s chick flick set in the States.

“Hold on, wait for me!” you hollered back as you finished pouring the freshly popped popcorn into a large bowl, a few kernels spilling out as you whirled on your heels to sprint into the living area. You nearly tripped over Jirou’s legs as you practically threw yourself towards the last remaining free spot on the couch.

“Ah, sorry!” you exclaimed as you settled yourself into the cushions, checking over Jirou and your popcorn bowl. “Did I miss anything?”

“No, it’s just starting,” Momo said, taking a sip from her cup of tea as the opening credits began to roll.

“Ooh, this is one of my all-time favorite movies!” Mina squealed next to you. “Have you ever seen it before?” she asked.

You hummed, acknowledging her question. You thought hard, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen the characters on the screen before. “I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”

The pinkette gasped aloud and theatrically placed a hand on her chest, sprawling backward. “Y/N! You wound me!”

Across the room, Tooru piped up from her spot next to Asui. “How could you not have?! It’s only one of the greatest movies ever made!”

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Ochako interjected. “Gonna have to disagree.” You expected them to start arguing back and forth over what is truly the greatest movie ever made, like your friends back home would have done, but they don’t. Mina stuck her tongue out at Ochako before turning back to the movie.

You all watched the movie in relative silence, save for the light background noise of popcorn moving around in a bowl and slurping from a now-empty straw. It was nice, peaceful; a well-deserved and appreciated respite from the grinding hustle of being Pro-Heroes-in-training.

“Just confess already!” Jirou shouted at the screen as the main character allowed another opportunity for them to confess their feelings for their classmate slip through their fingers. “Gosh!” A corner of your mouth curled at her irritation. A few grumbles of agreement sounded from the others as the movie continued playing.

You had to stifle your laughter as the main characters continued to pine after one another, completely oblivious to the other’s growing feelings. I can’t believe there are actually people in the world who are like them, you silently mused. It’s so obvious they like each other. I can’t believe they don’t see it.

“Ugh, the anticipation and pining is killing me!” Tooru cried out, her slippers moving frantically in the air as she kicked her legs.

Asui raised a brow. “I thought you’ve seen this movie before?”

“Well, yeah, I have,” the invisible female said. “But the suspense still gets to me!”

“It is quite intense.” Ochako agreed. “I hope they confess soon. It hurts to see them think the other doesn’t return their feelings.”

“I don’t understand how they cannot.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. The girls turned to look at you as you continued, “I mean, they’re so obvious.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda annoying at this point,” Jirou mumbled.

Mina snickered. “Y/N, as if you’re one to talk.”

You gave her a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, come on. You’re so obvious, too, with your crush—”

You cut her off, “I do not have a crush.”

“You have a crush?” Asui asked. You and Mina responded at the same time.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, she does.”

“What is this about?” Momo inquired, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.

“Nothi—” you began but was swiftly interrupted by the pinkette next to you.

“Y/N has a crush on Todoroki!”

The girls gasped and gapped at you, eyes wide.

“I do not!” You said, face burning as you tried to mitigate the situation. “We’re not like that!”

“Oh my.” You thought you heard Momo say under her breath, but you couldn’t really hear since Tooru started shrieking with glee.

“You guys would be the cutest couple!” she exclaimed, jumping up from her spot on the couch and racing over to pull you into a tight embrace.

“I mean, it does make sense given they spend so much time together.” Ochako mused, a finger on her chin as she considered the situation.

Asui jumped on the bandwagon with, “Oh they are definitely into each other.”

“One hundred percent,” Mina agreed.

“Girl, you gotta spill the tea!” Tooru exclaimed as she pulled away. “Tell us everything!” The others voiced their agreement.

“I do admit, I am curious as to how this relationship came to be,” Momo vocalized, setting her tea cup down onto its saucer. “That is if the two of you have gotten that far into your companionship.”

You blinked at the midnight-black-haired woman, shock clouding your brain for a moment as you processed her words. “Um, n-no. We aren’t in any type of r-romantic relationship.” You clarified, but immediately you could tell certain people thought your answer was complete horse poop. “We aren’t!”

“Regardless, you guys are pretty close,” Ochako interjected. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “And all the extra training you do together.”

“The early morning runs,” Asui added.

“Okay, okay,” you threw your hands up in a placating manner. “I understand what you guys are trying to get at, but you’re wrong.”

Mina came to stand beside you, giving you a knowing look. “Girl, Y/N,” she began. “You can try with all your might to deny it, but it’s obvious what is really going on between you and Shouto.” She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And I know you know it, too.”

You stared at the pinkette, pondering her and the other’s words. You wanted to continue denying what they were saying, but you were getting tired of denying your feelings to yourself. You slumped your shoulders, the tension leaving your body as you resolved to come clean with the truth—to yourself and your friends, besides a certain dual-haired male. “Alright, fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, mentally preparing yourself for their reaction to your next statement. “I like him a little.” You confessed, looking at the floor, too afraid to meet any of their gazes.

The room was dead silent for two breaths before Mina erupted in choking laughter. “’A little’? Yeah RIGHT!” She laughed so hard that tears began to stream down her pink cheeks. After she managed to calm down a bit, she turned to face you fully, laying a hand on your knee. “Girl, you’re lying to yourself.” She told you, tone light yet serious. “We have all seen the way you look at Shouto—” the others nod in confirmation. “—and your eyes tell it all.”

You flinched as embarrassment flooded you. “Is it really that obvious?” you asked. You turned to the others to gauge their reactions. “Am I?” They all nodded.

“Definitely.”

“For sure.”

“We could see it from a mile away.”

You gasped. “Oh my,” you covered your face with your hands. “Do you think Shouto knows?”

“I doubt so,” Momo said. “Shouto is quite intelligent and a formidable force to be reckoned with, but as I’m sure you’re aware, his experience and understanding of social concepts and cues are fairly limited.”

“In other words,” Jirou interjected. “He’s none the wiser.”

You released a sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t think I’m a psycho stalker or something.

“Hey, give him some credit, guys,” Ochako remarked. “Todoroki’s more aware than he’s given credit for.”

“Moving on,” Mina said. “Have you thought about confessing your feelings to him?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, shamefully looking away. “No. . .”

“What?!”

“Really?!” Tooru shouted. “But he’s so hot!” The sleeves of her shirt crossed in front of her. “I would do anything to be his girlfriend.”

You laughed. “While you are correct about his handsomeness, I don’t even know where I would begin or how I would confess.”

“Your feelings are valid, Y/N,” Asui assured you. “Confessing one’s feelings for another is a life-changing occurrence.”

“You gotta do it before graduation in a couple months, though,” Ochako added. “If not, then you may never get another chance to do so.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked. “As Pros, wouldn’t we work together often? Why does it need to be before we graduate and turn Pro?”

“Possibly, but with our chosen line of work, there is always a possibility. . .” she trailed off with a grimace.

You understood immediately. “Oh.”

“Although rare in the line of duty, it does happen.” Momo said. “I wouldn’t worry about that though, but I agree with Ochako.”

“Plus,” Mina began, mischief glowing in her eyes. “If the two of you get together before you make your Pro Hero debut to the world, you wouldn’t have to worry about him falling in love with some random civilian he rescues on the street or another Pro.”

You nodded. “You have a point.”

“Either way, I think it will all work out in the end,” Ochako said, her cheeks widening with her smile. “I think perhaps Shouto returns your feelings, and just simply doesn’t know what to do about them or how to address them, therefore you should tell him.” The other girls voiced their agreement.

“Yeah, it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture or anything,” Jirou said.

“Just be honest with him, Y/N,” Asui said.

“Yeah, girl,” Mina added, giving you a warm smile when you met her gaze. “You got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

You squared your shoulders as a burst of confidence filled you thanks to the encouragement you received from your friends. “Okay, I will!” you loudly announced. “I will confess my feelings to him!”

The others cheered as you all held up your lemon water in a faux toast. In your happiness, none of you noticed the shadows shift in the stairwell and the soft noise of retreating footsteps on the wood.

You were screwed.

“How am I gonna tell him!?” you mewled aloud a couple of days later in the cafeteria. You dramatically slumped your forehead on the tabletop, mentally kicking yourself for allowing the girls to convince you that confessing your crush would be an easy endeavor. You felt a reassuring pat on your shoulder. Groaning, you lifted your head from the table to shoot puppy eyes at Ochako. “Ochako, help me!” you cried. “How do I confess?”

The brunette gave you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know, Y/N.” She professed, her eyes apologetic. “Proclaiming one's love for another isn’t really my strong suit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Asui mumbled under her breath before taking a sip of her drink, receiving a glare in response.

“Y/N, sweetie,” Mina cooed from your other side. “I think you’re overthinking it a little. It shouldn’t be but so hard. Just be honest with him!”

“But that is hard!” you said, waving your hands in the air. “I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘hey, Shouto, I think you’re really hot and amazing. Wanna go out with me?’”

“Sure you can,” Momo intoned, trying to reassure you. “Maybe not in those exact words, but when the time comes, you will know what to say.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. “I hope so.”

As time passed, you found that you did not, in fact, know what to say when the time came to confess your feelings to Shouto Todoroki. Whenever you were near him, you became tongue-tied and could barely speak without becoming a stuttering mess. During each interaction, Shouto would give you a long, confused look, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he watched you struggle for words. He wouldn’t comment on it, bless him, but he must’ve thought you to be a total weirdo.

Yet, he still accompanied you on the walk back to the dorm every day after classes ended, and he insisted on continuing your training sessions every weekend after he finished his shift at Endeavor’s Agency. The two of you grew closer, to your absolute delight, and yet you still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to confess your feelings to him.

Until one day . . .

You were sitting in homeroom during free period, chatting with Midoriya about the latest episode of the rebooted All Might: The Mightiest Man TV series.

“I’m telling you, Midoriya,” you said. “It doesn’t matter how much the animation and special effects have improved, the original will always be better than the reboot.” You crossed your arms and lounged back in your chair, waiting for the forest green-haired male to start sputtering his counterargument. “You can’t change my mind. I will die on this hill.”

“Are you seriously sayin—?”

A call of your name from a familiar tenor drew your attention. You turned towards the source to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. Shouto was making his way to your desk, coming to a stop right in front of you. You had to tilt your head back in order to maintain eye contact. After a moment, he turned his attention to Midoriya next to you. “Pardon me, Midoriya, but I need to speak to Y/N in private.”

You and Midoriya gaped at the dual-haired male for a good twenty seconds before you slowly rose from your seat. “O-okay.” You turned to face your green-haired companion. You hoped your eyes were conveying your inner panic as you said, “Midoriya, I’ll be back.”

All he could do was nod as he watched you follow behind Shouto, wondering why you looked so panicked to go with the male. Maybe you were constipated.

As Shouto led you toward the classroom door, Ochako and Mina shot you curious glances. When you met their gazes, they gave you a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, respectfully.

“Good luck, girl!” Mina whisper-shouted.

“You got this, Y/N,” Ochako said. You tried to match her comforting smile with your own, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

You followed behind the dual-haired male, silently wondering what was going on. Once you were outside the classroom, he led you down the hallway to a little corner nook bathed in the golden light of the afternoon.

“Shouto, is everything okay?” you asked, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?” At your inquiry, he finally came to a stop in front of a set of windows and turned to face you.

“Yes, everything is fine.” He reassured you. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

You blinked. “Okay,” you said. “Shoot.”

Shouto likewise paused at your usage of unfamiliar slang but didn’t comment on it. “Um,” he started, but drifted off, not finishing the thought. He opened his mouth only to shut it again after a moment or two without making a sound. You furrowed your brows as you continued to watch him struggle for words.

“Um, Sho?” you prodded. He didn’t respond, however, still thinking over his next words. Shouto never hesitates, you thought with a mixture of wonderment and anxiety. Is something bothering him? you thought with growing concern. You felt your heart come to a skittering stop as another horrifying conclusion came to mind; am I the problem?

“I overheard you and the other girls’ conversation on Movie Night,” he confessed at last, interrupting your spiraling train of thought. He bashfully looked away as if he was ashamed.

“Oh, okay?” you responded, absentmindedly going through the events of the night in question. Your heartbeat began to calm down to a normal rate. “What conversation?” You couldn’t think of anything in particular and were about to ask him to elaborate before the realization hit you like a freight train.

“I like him a little.”

“Okay, I will! I will confess my feelings to him!”

“Yeah, girl, you got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

Oooohhhhh.

Fuck.

Maybe he didn’t hear that particular part of the conversation! You tried to reassure yourself as you waited for Shouto to answer your question. Your heart rate picked back up as panic began to settle in. We were there for several hours. There is so much he could’ve—

“You have an admiration going on.” You hate to admit you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before his formal wording translated into modern speech. You have a crush.

FUCK!

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” you rushed out, trying to save face and whatever friendship you had with Shouto. You felt your cheeks burn. “Please, just forget you ever heard that!”

Shouto snapped his head to you as your words registered in his brain. “Why would I do that?” he asked after a moment. “We live in the same building with shared living space, barely anything is not overheard by another.”

Oh God, how much did he overhear?

“Besides,” he continued. “At our age, it is completely natural for one to harbor feelings for another.”

You blinked at him as his words registered, your cheeks now tingling due to the burn. Gosh, he sounds like a grandpa giving the birds and the bees talk.

“It—it’s j-just,” you stammered. “I-I-I—” You let out a harsh breath in frustration when your words continued to fail you. Shouto raised a brow before his eyes narrowed. Your heart sank when you saw that.

Oh great, he’s annoyed!

“Are you all right?” he asked before moving so he was right in front of you. You squeaked at the sudden warmth of his body heat as he placed a hand on your forehead. “Do you feel ill? You feel warm, and your face looks to be flushed with some perspiration gathering on your forehead.” His eyes frantically looked you up and down as he examined you for any further signs of sickness. “I should get you to Recovery Girl.”

“N-no!” you exclaimed when he went to sweep you off your feet. “Sh-Shouto, I—I’m fine, really. I’m n-not s-sick.”

“Oh?” Shouto blinked in confusion and, adorably, subtly tilted his head to the side. “Then why are you so febrile? And you are stuttering?”

“It’s not because I am sick. I’m just em-embarrassed.” You whispered the last part, and you couldn’t help but look away from Shouto in shame.

“Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed, Y/N?” You shut your mouth, refusing to speak. Shouto sensed your hesitation. The light slowly left his heterochromatic eyes and he bashfully looked away from you. “Is . . . is it because you don’t want to be seen with me?” he asked. “For fear that your crush will see us together and not return your affection?”

You let out a gasp in surprise. “What? No!” You are quick to reassure him—your actual crush—of your intentions. “That’s not it at all!”

Shouto met your gaze again. His eyes lit up with what looked like . . . anticipation? Hope? You weren’t sure, but your heart began to race in trepidation. “Then what is it?”

“I like you,” you blurted out. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide from your drowning embarrassment. “Like, not even a little bit, but, like, really, really like you.” You whispered from behind your hands.

There was no immediate response from the dual-haired male. You didn’t dare to remove your hands from your face to check if he was still standing in front of you.

He probably didn’t hear me. You internally slapped yourself upside the head.

Before you could react, Shouto was carefully removing your hands from your face. His touch was gentle, like he was afraid you would crack and break under his fingertips. “Why are you hiding from me?” he whispered. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him.

“I—I.” Despite your efforts, words weren’t able to come out of your mouth.

“You should never feel like you need to hide,” he continued. He let out an airy tsk before he reached his hand up and gently tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. You felt your face heat up even more at the action. “Especially from me.”

What.

“W-what?” you voiced aloud. You blinked a couple times, trying to bring your brain back from the brink of short-circuiting.

Shouto chuckled lowly, moving impossibly closer into your space. “I think you need to get your hearing checked out, love.”

You blinked some more. “What?”

“Have I broken you?” he asked, the corner of his perfect lips turning up at the thought. “First you forget your words, and now you have lost your hearing. . .” he trailed off as he continued to stare intently into your eyes.

What is he playing at. . .? you wondered as you blankly stared at him.

The two of you stood there and took each other in for quite a while. In reality, it mustn’t have been for very long—at most a minute and a half—but to you, it felt like hours. You were so close you could see the light reflecting in his heterochromatic eyes and the small streaks of gray in the turquoise-colored one.

“I . . . like you, too,” Shouto suddenly confessed, violently snapping you out of the daze his proximity causes. “I have harbored feelings for you for some time now.”

WHAT!?

“You . . . do?” you asked, skeptical. You were hesitant to believe his words in fear that this whole thing was some sick prank. But—

No. Shouto isn’t that type of person, you thought. He barely understands humor as it is, so he must be telling the truth.

“I do,” he confirmed.

“Oh, um.” You fumbled again for words, embarrassment flooding your entire system once more. You licked your dry lips, missing the way Shouto’s eyes locked onto the movement. “Cool.”

Shouto blinked at you, one of his perfect eyebrows raising. “Cool?” he repeated with a sly smile overcoming his lips.

“Mhm.” You dumbly nodded. “Cool.” You paused before muttering a small, “Ditto.”

He chuckled again, subtly moving the tiniest bit closer to you. He was just about crowding you into the corner at this point. “Ditto, huh?” He mumbled under his breath with a widening smirk playing at his lips. “I think I have broken you, dear.”

You grinned. “Perhaps.” Shouto chuckled again before falling silent. The two of you stared at the other, lost in each other’s gazes.

“Can I kiss you?” He spoke on an exhale, his deep voice somehow even deeper. Before you could internally flip the fuck out and fully comprehend what was happening, you were already nodding. That was all the confirmation Shouto needed before he brought your lips in for a sensual kiss. Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as you relaxed into him.

You smiled into the kiss. Thank you, chopsticks.

The next day, you and Shouto walked into the classroom holding hands. Everyone collectively stopped what they were doing to openly gape at the two of you as Shouto, always the gentleman, escorted you to your seat. The shocked silence lasted all but three seconds before Mina and Tooru let out ear-piercing shrieks and practically tackled you.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Mina was shouting meanwhile Tooru was holding onto you so tight to the point that she was nearly crushing you into her invisible body.

“AHHHH, I knew this was gonna happen!” she exclaimed before somehow pulling you in closer.

“Can’t . . . breathe.” You wheezed out before your boyfriend pulled you away from the two fangirls and protectively held you to his chest.

“I would be grateful if you didn’t crush my girlfriend to death, Tooru.” He intoned in his naturally dry tenor. His statement only made them freak out even more.

“Ah! Look at the two love birds!” Ochako swooned.

“Fuckin’ disgustin’,” grumbled a deep voice from somewhere in the back of the room.

Before you could turn to shoot Bakugou a death glare, Shouto was already clapping back. “What, are you jealous, Bakugou?”

The desks which had surrounded the blond a moment prior were blown to shiverines.

“I’LL END YOU!”

Fin.

→ extras: snapshot 1, snapshot 2, fic tag

No plagiarizing, re-uploading, translating, or copying of any kind or on any platform of my writing or inserted into any type of AI generator. Do not recommend my work on TikTok. Do not repost on YouTube.

#shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #fic: ditto #todoroki x you #shoto x you #shouto x you

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luveline · 2 months ago

Note

hello might i ask for sassy badass reckless reader who is the #1 leading cause of aaron's gray hairs pls 🤞🏻 he is SO exasperated with her like he is TIRED™ but also tweaking bcs he's horrendously down bad for her he's gna throw up

Good morning. I hope you slept well, honey. Can you come to work early, say 6.10AM? I’d like to see you and talk about something in person.

You squint at the text that’s just come through. Another follows as you’re finishing, lighting the dark of your room.

I love you. Sorry, I know you don’t like when I forget to tell you in the mornings.

Your own response is sent without propriety. I love you too handsome. 6.10 is not gonna work.

Can you make an effort for me? he asks.

You do your very best.

“It’s almost seven,” Hotch says when you finally get there that morning, his frown audible and plain to see.

You hold up the bag of sugar donuts you’d purchased from the truck on the square just outside of Quantico’s endless parking lots. “Necessary delay.”

“Unnecessary. I asked you nicely to come early and you’re barely on time,” he grumbles.

How adorable. You put the bag of donuts on the desk and ignore the paperwork laid out waiting for you in favour of his side of the desk. He smells like cedar, his suit sleeve starched under your hand. You lean back against the lip of his desk and pretend you hadn’t been thinking about climbing into his lap —he’s formidable and lovely and that’s the best combination for lounging about atop someone, especially when that someone is very good at pressing you backwards, and better at kissing your neck.

He knows what you’re thinking. “You’ve woken up in a mood,” he murmurs.

“A good one,” you promise.

You take his coffee and steal a sip. Hotch, resigned, lays a hand on your thigh. “I have important things to talk about, you know? I thought I made that clear this morning.”

“You made a couple of things clear.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I…” He tilts his head to the side. “Like I’ve been sending you dirty texts or photos.”

“Is that an option? I don’t think I’ve subscribed to those emails.”

“You make me out to be this salacious lark–”

“Aaron, I don’t do anything of the sort.” You can hardly hold back a laugh. “I’m sorry I implied you were sexting me, okay? I wish you had been.” He sighs a long-suffering sigh as you carry on. “But you were very formal. I’ll be sure to tell HR the same thing.”

His hand slips between your thighs. Nowhere it shouldn’t be, just trapped between soft flesh. “Don’t tell HR anything.”

His coffee is lukewarm and unsweetened on your tongue. Would it kill your uptight love to add just a dash of cream and sugar? Wrinkling your nose, you set aside the mug and press your mildly heated hand to his cheek. Just quickly, brushing a thumb up to the skin below his eye before you let it fall. “Tell me what you wanted me to come in early for. And, for the record, I’m sorry for not trying to get here before, just I didn’t sleep well, and my neck hurt too much to rush.”

He looks like he wants to ignore your apology. He doesn’t ask you for much, and showing up when he’d wanted you to would’ve been the kinder thing to do —he can be annoyed as both boss or boyfriend.

But he doesn’t have it in him.

“Why didn’t you sleep?” he asks softly.

“Thinking too much about my nice boyfriend.”

“Really?”

You slouch a little. Cover his hand where it rests between your legs. “I don’t know. It was really hot, and my mattress is getting old, probably.”

He ushers you down for a sympathetic kiss. He’s always so sorry to hear about your minor ailments, he must like you too much.

You attempt to crawl into his lap, curling an arm behind his head. He, disgruntled and yet far from reluctant, lets you take a seat.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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actiniumwrites · 1 year ago

Text

𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇

synopsis: wriothesley finds out you have a crush on someone and somehow manages to guess it’s on literally everyone but himself

characters: wriothesley x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k

warnings: fluff, a tiny pinch of angst and insecurity, my poor attempt at humor, slight miscommunication, friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, swearing, first time writing for wriothesley so he might be ooc

notes: i almost made this angst to fluff but then decided i need to stop adding angst into literally everything i write (even though there’s like a tiny pinch of angst in here too 🙄). anyway, wriothesley is a lot harder to write than i thought he would be so i apologize if he seems ooc here

“Heard you gotta crush on someone,” Wriothesley teases as he walks into his office where you sit on one of his couches. You don’t even hear him walk in, too engaged in the book you were reading to pass time until you had to go through hundreds of inmate records to find something Neuvillette had requested.

His declaration is so sudden it almost makes you spit out the tea you had stolen from him.

Your eyes go wide as you stare at where he moves to lean against the front of his desk, arms crossed and waiting for an answer with that stupid smirk of his, “Hey now, that tea is expensive, so don’t go wasting it, okay?”

“Who told you about that?” you press for answers, a hint of anger in your voice as you ignore his previous statement about the tea. He had plenty to spare anyway.

Wriothesley’s smirk widens a bit, “So it is true.”

Damn him.

You don’t even bother trying to make an excuse, knowing your best friend all too well. He’d pick apart your words like weeds in a garden, finding meaning in them that you hadn’t even intended.

“And what if it is true?” you cross your arms defensively, glaring at him from across the room.

“At least tell me who it is,” he says as he rests his palms on the wooden desk behind him. When you don’t give in to his pleading, he playfully scoffs, “Oh c’mon, I’m your best friend! It’s kinda an obligation for you to tell me these things.”

You turn away, fixating your gaze on a nearby wall adorned with some weird painting he had hung awhile back, “Oh yeah? Since when? Last I checked there aren’t any rule books for being friends with someone. I don’t have to tell you a damn thing.”

“It’s Neuvillette, isn’t it?” he smiles knowingly. Perhaps that was why you were always the one receiving tasks from the Chief Justice instead of him — a guess at best, but enough evidence to convince him Neuvillette was the one.

No, you idiot. It’s you.

You snap your head back toward him, “What? No! I don’t like Neuvillette…not like that, at least. He’s nice and all, but I don’t think I’d be able to date the guy.”

“Damn, I really thought I had that one,” Wriothesley mumbles in defeat, pushing himself off the desk and instead moving to walk around the room as he thinks. It scares you. The fact that he’s so particular with facts and little details that it’s only a matter of time before he collects all the pieces to the puzzle and figures out he’s the one you like. What would he say when that happens? “Too nice, huh? So you like someone a little colder, then.”

Damn it, he got you again!

You don’t answer him.

“Not even going to try to deny it?”

“No,” you grumble to yourself, slumping further into the couch, “you’re only going to dig further anyway.”

He gives a satisfied hum, “Right, so it’s Clorinde then. I mean c’mon, we don’t get a lot of visitors, so it has to be her. She fits the description too.”

You exhaustedly sigh and swipe a hand over your face dramatically, done with his antics, “It’s not her either. And there is no ‘description.’”

He perks up in a way that makes you way too uncomfortable, “Navia?”

“No, I’ve never even met her aside from like one time two years ago,” you refute, sliding further down on the couch to fully lie down and shut your eyes, “I don’t get why you’re so excited over this.”

Wriothesley thinks for a moment before squinting his eyes, “Don’t tell me you have a crush on a prisoner?”

You teasingly peek an eye open while leaning back to look at him, “And if I did?”

“You better not,” he warns, pointing a stern finger at you like you were a prisoner and not his coworker.

You laugh to yourself at his sudden change of mood, “Relax, I was only joking!”

“Not funny,” he says unamused, prepared to pull out the prison’s rule book and slap it over your head if you did, “I’m really runnin’ out of people here.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll your eyes, “thousands of people live in Fontaine. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

You really hope he doesn’t.

The following ten minutes consist of Wriothesley irritatingly pacing around the room and mumbling all sorts of names to himself. Some of which you recognized, others you had never even heard of before. And, despite all of your countless no’s to his guesses, he never gives up. Nor does he realize the answer is right in front of him.

“Just give it up already,” you finally interrupt as he stops in front of you.

A heavy sigh falls from Wriothesley’s lips as he collapses onto the couch, narrowly missing where your legs were outstretched. Defeatedly, he lays his head against the back of the sofa, shutting his eyes as he thinks a little harder. “Oh my god,” he says suddenly, head shooting up to look at you, “…don’t tell me.”

No way. Did he figure it out?

Your breath captures in your throat as his eyes flicker back and forth between your own, searching for some sort of truth. He knows. Your best friend knows that you have feelings for him — and not just the platonic kind.

His brows furrow and his face morphs into one of disgust. It makes your heart drop; the way he’s looking at you.

He doesn’t feel the same way.

“I can’t believe it,” he clicks his tongue in disgust, crossing his arms and turning his attention away from you, “you like Furina.”

Your jaw drops to the floor and suddenly you don’t feel bad anymore, “I actually can’t believe you just said that. Archons, I think you need to visit Sigewinne. I mean, seriously! Furina? Of all people!”

He grins and shrugs carelessly, “I don’t know? She was the last person I could think of.”

“Something is seriously wrong with you.”

“Clearly not so wrong that I couldn’t figure out that the person you actually like is me.”

“Oh please, I don’t even—wait, what? You knew?!”

A boisterous laugh erupts suddenly as you stare at him with wide eyes. You sit up on the couch quickly, slapping his shoulder as he continues to laugh, “Sorry, sorry!”

You don’t find it amusing, “I—when did you figure it out?”

His laugh eventually subsides into a drawn out sigh and his blue eyes soften a bit as they gaze into your own, “I’m not an idiot, you know? I wouldn’t be running this place if I was.”

“Right,” you mumble awkwardly, averting your gaze from his, “so, um, were you just doing all that to lighten the mood so you could let me down easily or…?”

“Or…what?” Wriothesley mocks you, a playful smirk pulling at his lips.

You roll your eyes with a scoff, “don’t make me say it.”

He spares you, luckily. It’s unlike him, but he doesn’t care to joke with you any longer when the subject is so serious, “Yes, I feel the same way. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“No, I totally wanted to hear you say you hate me and want me dead,” you say sarcastically, trying to fight a smile.

“I’m being serious, I really do like you,” Wriothesley presses, ignoring the way you’re becoming awkward from the nervousness floating in the air.

You finally exhale the breath you had been guarding in your chest, relieved that this didn’t go as horribly as you once thought it would.

The alarm sounding for dinner goes off after and you both stand from your places on the couch, “So what do we do now that that’s out of the way?”

Wriothesley falls into step next to you, holding the doors to his office open to let you out first, “We have our first date in the cafeteria, of course.”

Your face drops and you stop in your tracks to glare at him, “That better be a joke.”

He laughs it off quickly, not thinking you’d take it so seriously. Eagerly, he grabs your hand tightly in his as he pulls you to the exit of the Fortress, “Relax, I’m just teasing you! You deserve only the best, after all.”

“You are so annoying.”

“Only for you, sweetheart.”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n

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2hightocare · 3 months ago

Text

BIRTHDAY CHAOS!

Synopsis: It’s Jungkook’s birthday and obviously it couldn’t just be a small get together… according to everyone.

Genre: comedy, found family, established relationships.

Pairing: DILF!jungkook x fem!reader

Warnings: curse words, mentions of sex, alcohol consumption, family oriented, jungkook being sappy, just full on fluff, this is more bts centered than just jungkook and oc, cowboy jungkook YEEEHAW!

a/n: Tupac back! TUPAC BACK! hi im back… i haven’t been writing these pasts months like i used to— school has had me busy with so many papers that the idea of writing for anything outside school literally sends chills down my spine. BUT! i miss writing my very close imaginary family so enjoy🤍

…

"We're doing the absolute most," Jia sighs, slumping backward and releasing an untied balloon. It zooms across the floor, landing by your feet. "We're talking about the same person, right?" Eunbi asks from her position on the floor, colorful confetti spread out in front of her as she carefully glues a number onto the banner.

"Let’s not bully my man on his birthday," you playfully scold your best friend, giving her blonde hair a gentle tug.

Eunbi looks up at you with a pout. "Ow!" She scrunches her nose, sticking her tongue out before returning to decorating the banner on the ground.

"That ‘happy birthday’ looks crooked as fuck," Taehyung comments, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at the colorful banner beside the long-haired blonde. "Ari, permission to clock his shit right now," Eunbi says, looking up to Taehyung’s wife, who is perched on Namjoon’s shoulders, sticking balloons to the wall.

"Permission granted," Ari mumbles around the tape in her mouth. "But stay away from his face; we have an event coming up." Her voice is clearer as she uses the tape to secure a balloon.

"Honey, you did not just—what the actual fuck?" Taehyung gasps dramatically, quickly dodging Eunbi’s attempt to hit him with a pair of confetti poppers.

"Girl, next time, aim for his balls—" Aera begins but is interrupted by the front door slamming open, making everyone freeze in place.

The room goes deathly quiet before everyone exhales in relief as Lora, Jimin, Daeun, Yoongi, and Seokjin come rushing through the door.

"Y/n, I tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t listen," Yoongi says first, rushing to his wife on the floor. He drops a kiss on her cheek before looking up at you, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Don’t even! You helped us pick which one!" Jimin defends himself, placing a hand on his chest as if he’s been mortally wounded. Lora laughs out loud, bouncing with excitement.

"You look too happy for anyone's peace of mind," Hoseok observes, a small smile of amusement on his face.

You raise an eyebrow, confused, both hands on your hips as you wait for someone to start explaining. "Before you get mad..." Lora begins, only to be silenced by your raised hand.

"I’m already mad," you sigh, making everyone burst into laughter.

"Jungkook said he wanted one, so we got it for him," Daeun explains, clicking his tongue and biting her lower lip anxiously. She’s the newest addition to your group—she and Jimin started dating a few months ago. Despite her shy nature, Daeun clicked with everyone quickly, although her personality is much more calm than anyone else’s she fit in perfectly. Still no one could beat Jungkook’s and Eunbi’s track record when it came to the most extroverted of the bunch.

You raised an eyebrow in confusion, waiting for an explanation. At the same time, Seokjin nervously let out a small, low-pitched "giddy up," his voice cracked as he hesitated. He awkwardly mimed cracking a whip, glancing around with a sheepish grin, clearly embarrassed and already regretting it.

"You guys bought him a horse?" you gasp, eyes nearly popping out of your head as you watch everyone else's expressions mirror your shock. Silence fills the room, and it’s almost comedic when one of the balloons that Ari was blowing deflates. As everyone waits for your reaction, you hear the blonde on the ground whisper.

"Wait, he really wanted a horse? I thought he was joking! Babe—we should’ve gotten him the horse first as a thank you gift for giving me bubbles on my birthday," Eunbi whispers to her husband, who gives her a 'not now, baby' look.

Before you know it, you're pulling on Eunbi’s hair again. "The fuck are we going to do with a horse?" you sigh heavily, flailing your arms around.

One thing you learned from everyone is that they all go to great lengths for each other, no matter how ridiculous the idea or situation might be—and you fully participate in the chaos. But right now, the only thought in your mind is how you’re going to murder five people simultaneously.

"How did going for birthday hats end with you guys buying him a horse?" Joon asks, his face scrunched in confusion as Taehyung tries not to laugh while helping his wife off Namjoon’s shoulders.

"We didn’t buy one..." Jimin says, looking around nervously, waiting for someone to step in.

"We rented one!" Lora jumps in happily, clapping her hands. Her long, straight black hair bounces around her face as her deep dimples appear while she shoves her phone into your face.

"Isn’t it so cute? The person renting it out said his name is Rex, but I think he gives off more ‘Goody’ vibes." Lora shrugs happily, showing you multiple pictures of a huge, beautiful black horse.

"Can we talk about how big a horse shits," Seokjin mentions dramatically to the boys that stayed behind at the house. Your mind already making a mental note that the five responsible will be cleaning up after the horse in your backyard later.

"When is it getting here?" you sigh in defeat, making Lora clap excitedly.

"Aww, you didn’t crash out! Maturity looks so good on you, babes!" Eunbi cheers from the ground.

…

"I am not wearing this shit," Hoseok groans loudly, rolling his head back and stomping his feet like a child. "Why did I get the worst one out of everyone?" His hands flail dramatically as he explains, clearly annoyed that his t-shirt is, in his opinion, the most boring.

"You think yours is wack?" Eunbi side-eyes him, pointing at her own shirt. "I’m wearing a picture of Jungkook's face with the words, ‘Big dick is back in town.’" She reads it out loud before throwing her head back with an overly dramatic sigh.

"I low-key love mine," Jimin chimes in, striking multiple poses to show off his t-shirt, which reads, ‘I wish he was real,’ beneath a large photo of Jungkook giving a thumbs-up while wearing Iseul’s pink tutu.

"That’s because yours is cool! Mine is literally..." Hobi starts, sounding enthusiastic before suddenly clamming up, which causes Jia to burst out laughing beside him.

"Wait, now I wanna see it!" Eunbi’s face lights up, reaching for the shirt bunched up in Hoseok's hands.

"Stop! I love it!" Eunbi bursts into laughter as she reads the large text across the middle of his white shirt. "Show me!" Yoongi nudges his wife, poking her in the hip for her to move aside so he can see.

A grin spreads across his face as his eyes scan the words: ‘Sorry, princess, I only date DILFs who look like this,’ followed by a heart-shaped picture of Jungkook, shirtless, flexing his muscles with a pout on his lips. Yoongi can't hold back his laughter.

"I need to know who came up with these," Yoongi chuckles, dropping his head onto Eunbi’s shoulder, still shaking with amusement.

"I am not wearing this," Hoseok snaps, snatching the shirt back from Eunbi before crossing his arms in front of his chest, pouting like a sulking kid.

"Babe, you’re so cute," Jimin teases as he watches his girlfriend make her way to the small group, whistling as he gives his girlfriend, Daeun, a playful spin. She blushes, biting her lower lip as she reads aloud the words on her own shirt.

"‘Introverted but willing to discuss...’" Daeun pauses and points at the picture of Jungkook dramatically winking beneath the text.

"That one is so cute!" Jia claps happily beside Hoseok, who is still throwing a tantrum while Eunbi laughs and points at his pouty face.

You silently chuckle as you overhear their conversation shifting from shirts to whether they should have gotten a photo booth. You quickly announce that you’re going inside to get Iseul and yourself ready before heading into the house.

The laughter from the backyard fades as you close the sliding door behind you, having spent all morning decorating it. You take a moment to check the kitchen, living room, and walls, ensuring everything looks as you had planned before rushing upstairs to shower before Iseul wakes from her nap.

After showering, blow-drying, and straightening your hair, you start to hear small whines from Iseul as she begins to wake up. You poke your head out of the bathroom and into your and Jungkook’s room, finding Iseul sitting up in bed. Her hair is disheveled, and she’s rubbing her chubby hands over her eyes, surrounded by pillows creating a makeshift barrier.

“Hi, my love,” your voice soars to a higher pitch as you approach her. “How’d you sleep, baby?” You coo, brushing her small light curls away from her face, gently poking her cheeks before planting a kiss on them both.

“I slept good,” Iseul murmurs softly, finally opening her eyes. Her Bambi-like gaze looks up at you. “Is Daddy here yet? It’s his birfday.” Your four-year-old scans the room, only to pout in disappointment when she realizes it’s just you both in the room.

“He’s almost here, so we need to make you look pretty! Okay?” You poke her small side, making her giggle and nod enthusiastically. You wrap your arms around her, holding her tight as you lift her and carry her to her room. You carefully set her down on the bed before heading into her closet to find the outfit you had planned. You also grab a couple of alternative pants options just in case the original choice doesn’t work out.

“Okay, you have two options. Pick,” you say, emerging from the closet with two pairs of bottoms. “Skirt or jeans?” You wave the options as Iseul puts her index finger on her chin and furrows her eyebrows, deep in thought. “What are you wearing?” she asks carefully, making you smile. “A skirt,” you reply, watching her nod several times before pointing at the skirt in your left hand.

"I wanna wear a skirt too!” she exclaims with a beaming smile, her dimples—clearly inherited from her dad—showing prominently.

You nod in approval and quickly help her change and brush her teeth. You also brush her hair, letting it flow down her back.

“Okay, pose for me, princess,” you giggle as you watch your daughter smile and place her hands on her hips, striking a pose.

“Okay, now stand still and look down at your shoes for me.” You ask, as she hums and gazes at her Adidas shoes and white socks with ruffles, while you click away on your camera. “You’re so beautiful,” you coo, finally standing up and reaching for your daughter’s hand to guide her outside so you can finish your makeup and get dressed.

As you open the glass door to the backyard, she finally speaks. “I know, Daddy told me I’m the most beeyootiful girl ever.” She quips before stepping out, where Yejoon—who just got here, after being dropped off by his grandparents from his dad’s side—rushes toward her, and Eunbi and Taehyung quickly start showering her with compliments about her custom-made shirt as if it were a competition.

You laugh as you watch Eunbi’s smile falter when Iseul jumps into Taehyung’s arms first. You shout that you’ll be right back, earning several thumbs up from the group. As you rush back to your room, your phone rings in your back pocket. You quickly pluck it out and see a picture of you smiling at the camera with your husband’s bicep cradling your face, making you smile as you press the green button and click ‘speaker.’

“Baby,” Jungkook’s voice comes through as you place the phone down on the counter and start your makeup.

“Hi,” you reply, tucking your hair back out of your face.

“Hi, my obnoxiously gorgeous wife, I miss you,” Jungkook says, and you smile, hearing the warmth in his voice.

“Are my girls ready? I’m almost home,” he continues. You giggle and reply with a small “yes” as you blend concealer under your eyes.

You had told Jungkook the other night that instead of a party, you wanted to take him out to eat for his birthday, just the three of you. He agreed immediately, not knowing it was a complete lie. Knowing damn well the group chat you just have made the other day with everyone from the already standing “plan b survivors” group chat with the exclusion of Jungkook—obviously—was currently being spammed with multiple suggestions of whether getting a bouncy house was a good idea or not.

“Your mom sent me her GIF not too long ago; it’s the best one she’s sent to date,” Jungkook says, making you burst out laughing, knowing exactly which kind of GIF he means. Your mom has a habit of sending extravagant GIFs with blooming flowers and sparkles, with bold text that reads something completely different depending on the mood, situation or event.

“She edited me into the background this time. You know, the one where I’m flexing my muscles with those pink ribbons you tied on them,” he recounts, and you hum in agreement, knowing exactly what picture he’s talking about since you were the one who took and sent it to your mom.

“I love the way confetti pops the moment you click on it to play,” he chuckles, making you mirror his smile.

As he continues talking about how everyone wished him a happy birthday at the meeting he had to attend—scheduled long ago and unmissable—you listen as he changes topics to how he plans to start taking Iseul to swimming classes while you finish your makeup.

“Okay, baby, I’m around the corner. Can you put an outfit out for me so I can shower and change quickly?” Jungkook asks as you apply the last coat of mascara to your eyelashes.

Humming in agreement, you reply, “Okay, and I already did, baby,” as you twist the mascara cap shut and check yourself one last time in the mirror before grabbing your phone and heading to both your clothes laid out on the bed.

“I love you,” Jungkook says, as you return the sentiment before he disconnects.

You quickly change into your t-shirt, tying a rubber band at the back to create a crop top. You follow up by slipping into your denim mini skirt, not even taking a minute to check if it fits perfectly as you rush to find socks and matching shoes to match Iseul’s. The moment you’re dressed, you hurry downstairs, turning off every light as you make your way to the backyard, where everyone’s eyes turn to you.

“He’s coming, everyone hide!”

The position you were in was uncomfortable as hell, and no one seemed to be enjoying themselves. Iseul started to whine, complaining that her knees hurt from crouching behind the couch, which prompted Ye Joon to comment smugly that “she isn’t as strong as he is,” earning a loud “shhh” from Ari. The twins, Nari and Yeseol, were also not having it. Barely a year old, both blondes were already driving Eunbi and Yoongi crazy—you could hear Yoongi trying to calm down Nari from behind the kitchen counter, as she teetered on the verge of crying.

From your peripheral vision, you caught a glimpse of Aera and Namjoon making funny faces to distract Nari and keep her from crying. You also noticed Jiho texting on his phone, his brows furrowed in concentration. You tried not to laugh when Jia snatched his phone away, scolding him to “pay attention.”

Suddenly, your heart fluttered as you heard the front door open, followed by Jungkook’s familiar voice calling out.

“Baby, where are you?” he called, murmuring under his breath about how dark it was. He moved towards the light switch and flicked it on. Before he could react, everyone shouted, “Surprise!” as colorful confetti burst from poppers, flying everywhere and littering the floor.

“Oh, fuck!” he shrieked, clutching his chest in surprise.

“Happy birthday!” everyone yelled together, rushing forward to hug him. Iseul was the first to reach him, raising her short arms for her dad to pick her up. “Happy birfday, Daddy!” Iseul kissed his cheek as Jungkook smiled brightly, while Lora snapped multiple pictures with her camera. “Your shirt, princess,” your husband beamed, reading the words and poking her side, making her squirm. “You’re a hundred percent ‘Birthday boy favorite girl,’” Jungkook said, pressing a big kiss to her cheek, reading off her shirt.

“Happy birthday, my brother,” Taehyung and Jimin chimed in, launching themselves at Jungkook the moment he set his daughter down to greet everyone else. “Where’s my gift? I don’t think my wife would’ve let anyone in without a gift fee,” Jungkook joked, patting Jimin on the back.

“I was thinking about what to get you, and I realized you don’t need anything—you already have me. I even debated wrapping myself since I’m clearly the biggest gift in your life,” Taehyung said, making everyone burst into laughter. “Exactly what I thought too,” Jimin added, earning a side-eye from Taehyung.

“Just two dumb bitches telling each other ‘exactly!’” Eunbi mocked behind them, scooting in-between the boys to give Jungkook a hug.

“Hi, blondie,” your husband teases, poking your best friend’s side, before laughing at the words on her shirt. “Big dick back in town!” Jungkook guffawed, throwing his head back in laughter.

You watched with a huge smile plastered across your face as your husband finishes hugging everyone and complimenting their shirts. Once he had said his hellos, his eyes finally met yours. His grin widened, and he walked towards you. Feeling playful, you shifted all your weight to one leg and twirled your hair around your index finger, giving him an innocent look that made him burst out laughing.

“Hi,” Jungkook smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

“Hi,” you smile back, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. He gave you a quick wink before leaning down to kiss you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you melted into the kiss, his lips moving against yours in a slow, agonizing pace.

Smiling into the kiss, he finally pulled away as everyone started whistling in the background.

“There are kids here!” Namjoon shouted playfully, watching as Jungkook stuck his tongue out at him like a child.

“You take my breath away every damn time, baby,” Jungkook says, turning back to face you and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Mhm, really?” you tease, raising an eyebrow at him. He chuckles, his gaze drifting from your shoes back up to your eyes. “Yes, really,” he says, biting his lower lip.

“Okay, we get it. You guys are in love. Can we go eat now?” Jiho interrupted, looking up from his phone with a bored expression, clearly used to this level of PDA, since his own parents were just as bad.

Everyone laughed and agreed, while Jiho earned a light swat on the back of his head from his mom for “interrupting a moment.” Lora shook her head in mock disappointment, quickly passing her camera to Ari to place on the marble table before ushering everyone towards the backyard.

“Happy birthday again,” you whisper to your husband, stopping him before you could join the others who were waiting to show him the bouncy house and decorations.

“Thank you, baby,” he voices out, his voice soft and serious, making your heart clench. “Always,” you reply, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his lips again.

“I like your shirt,” Jungkook murmurs just for you, his voice low and teasing. You bite your lip, meeting his gaze.

“I mean, it’s true,” you shrug playfully, watching the slow smile spread across his face. His thumb and index finger toy with your belly ring that you’ve just put back in, and he tilts his head with a grin. “I’m hoping I got a shirt and it says ‘I heart milfs’ to match yours,” he jokes, his smile faltering when he notices the way your lips press together.

“What does it say?” he sighs, bracing for disappointment.

“‘Birthday boy,’” you reveal, trying not to laugh as his jaw drops in exaggerated shock.

“That’s not fair! I was expecting something wild like everyone else’s. How does Eunbi get ‘big dick back in town,’ and I get ‘birthday boy’?” He pouts, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Well, aren’t you the birthday boy?” you tease, placing your manicured hand over his, resting on your belly.

“I guess...” He blows out a dramatic sigh, making you giggle.

“I missed your belly piercing,” he says softly, tugging gently on the teardrop ring in your belly button.

“And I miss your lip piercing,” you reply, brushing a finger over his bottom lip. “Please put it back in. Hopefully, Iseul doesn’t tug on it like last time.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” he groans, shuddering at the memory. Remembering how his daughter yanked on his lip piercing with all the strength a one-year-old could muster.

“Thank you for everything,” he says, hooking his fingers through the belt loops of your skirt and pulling you into a tight embrace. “I appreciate everything you do and more. I know this whole thing was your idea. Thank you,” he murmurs into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t make me cry,” you sniffle, feeling him press small kisses along your neck. Your hands rub soothing circles on his back, and you stay wrapped in each other’s arms for a minute, though it felt like only seconds. “I love you so much, baby,” he continues, squeezing your cheeks with both hands and forcing your lips into a pout before kissing them.

“I love you,” you reply, kissing his nose, making him chuckle.

“Is it bad that I want everyone to leave already so I can just spend time with you?” he whispers as you both walk towards the glass sliding door. “Lowkey yeah,” you chuckle, stopping at the door and looking up at him, only to find him already gazing at you.

“What?” you giggle, feeling shy under his intense stare.

“Nothing, just one more kiss, please. Count it as my early birthday gift,” he winks, leaning down to capture your lips again. You pull back with a laugh when you felt his tongue start to intrude. “Baby…” Jungkook whines, a goofy grin still on his face as he tugs you closer.

“Jeo—” you start, but he interrupts, kissing you again, this time swirling his tongue with yours. Your shoulders slump as his hands cradle your face, keeping you in place before separating with a small string of saliva connecting you.

“Sorry, it’s my birthday,” he whispers against your lips, before finally opening the sliding glass door and extending an arm to guide you outside. You roll your eyes playfully but let out a small yelp when you felt his hand smack your ass as you walked past him through the door.

“It’s my birthday,” he says with a cheeky grin, raising his hands in defense when you shot him a warning glare.

…

Everyone is drunk, and things spiral out of control quickly.

The moment Jungkook steps out of the house, freshly showered and changed into his matching t-shirt like everyone else, everything becomes a blur. After countless photos taken on Lora’s camera, you all eat, sing happy birthday, and Jungkook blows out his candles before cutting the cheesecake you made him the night before.

By ten at night, the kids are sent inside to sleep, and that’s when the chaos begins.

“You’re fucking lying!” Jungkook yells, eyes wide as Seokjin and a man lead a huge black horse through the backyard doors.

“Where’s my camera?!” Lora screams, looking around frantically.

“It’s inside!” Ari shouts back. Before you can react, a head of caramel curls dashes into your house.

"That thing is literally humongous," Namjoon mutters, running a hand over his face, his eyes slightly red from all the alcohol.

“You shouldn’t be talking,” Jimin retorts, eyeing Namjoon up and down, causing everyone to burst out laughing.

“You’re just mad you’re short,” Namjoon fires back, but you’ve already tuned them out, watching as Jungkook climbs onto the horse with the help of the owner.

“This is such a bad idea,” you screech, covering your eyes.

“Here!” Ari runs back out, handing Lora her camera. She immediately starts snapping photos of Jungkook, now balanced on the horse.

"Hold on tight, bro!" Yoongi yells as Jungkook wobbles before finding his balance as the horse starts walking.

"Baby, look at me!" Jungkook calls out, taking off his shirt, revealing his flexed muscles as he jokingly cracks an imaginary whip. Your heart skips a beat—stomach flips—half from how ridiculously handsome he looks and half from the fear that he might fall.

Lora, on the other hand, is in her element, snapping photos like her life depends on it.

“I wanna ride next!” Eunbi cheers, jumping up and down.

“I’ve never seen you this excited to ride me before,” Yoongi says nonchalantly, causing everyone to groan.

“Brother, eugh!” Hoseok fake gags, while Jungkook laughs from atop the horse. Eunbi’s face turns pink as she playfully pushes Yoongi, who apologizes profusely for his comment.

"Baby, can we keep it?" Jungkook asks, flashing you his signature doe eyes.

"Fuck no," you respond immediately, leaving no room for negotiation.

"You’ve only got an hour—make the most of it," you shrug, moving closer to the horse.

"An hour only?" Jungkook gasps, glancing at his friends as if they betrayed him. "Y/n didn’t want the horse, we had to compromise, lil bro," Yoongi says matter-of-factly, making Jungkook roll his eyes playfully.

"Come on, baby, let’s ride," Jungkook says, winking as he pats his lap, motioning for you to hop on, which earns a chorus of fake gags from your friends.

The hour passes in a whirlwind of laughter and screaming. Everyone takes turns riding the horse, which ends with Ari nearly face-planting, sending everyone into a panic—except for the owner, who looks like he’s ready to be done with all of you and head home.

"Shot! Shot! Shot!" the group chants as you down a shot of tequila, scrunching your face in disgust, earning more laughter. Jungkook rubs circles on your back as the cold liquor burns its way down your throat. "Fuck!" you exclaim, tapping your chest like it’ll help with the heartburn.

"You did so good, princess," Jungkook praises, tossing back his shot like it’s water, letting out an exaggerated "ah" as he sets the glass down.

It’s nearly two in the morning now. The horse is long gone, and everyone is utterly trashed. The guys, all shirtless, are slumped around the backyard, claiming it’s too hot—likely the alcohol talking.

"Five, six, five, six, seven, eight!" Eunbi shouts as the speaker blasts "Hot to Go," jumping onto a chair and belting out the lyrics.

"Here she goes," Taehyung sighs jokingly, watching Eunbi throw herself into the song.

"You’re her biggest opp," Aera comments with a smile as Jungkook joins Eunbi, copying her arm movements.

"Opp stands for opposite, right?" Taehyung asks, which sends everyone into another round of laughter.

"Opponent, dumbass," Jimin smacks him on the back of the head, snickering at Taehyung's widened eyes.

"Did you guys read the weight limit for the bouncy house?" you ask out of nowhere, standing up, suddenly eager to jump around.

"There’s a weight limit?" Daeun and Seokjin ask simultaneously, then look at each other. "Jinx!" they say in unison, making you laugh.

"Yeah, the person who rents them usually tells you," you explain, kicking off your shoes before climbing into the character-themed bouncy house. You barely stand up before everyone starts piling in.

"If anyone throws up, I’ll kill you—" Lora screeches as Taehyung accidentally shoves her, sending her face-first into the bouncy floor. "I’m so sorry!" he laughs, trying to help her up despite the bouncing of everyone.

"Guys, I think it might pop," Daeun warns, clinging to Jimin for balance. You try reaching for Jungkook but get launched across the bouncy house by the devil herself, Eunbi.

"Ah!” You scream, laughing as you tumble into Lora. The laughter doesn’t last long, though, as a loud pop echoes through the air. Everyone stills before panic sets in as the bouncy house deflates rapidly, and everyone scrambles to the small exit.

You all stand in stunned silence, staring at the flattened bouncy house sprawled across the grass. Despite knowing how much trouble you're in with the renter, you can’t help but laugh.

"Welp, happy birthday to me," Jungkook shrugs with a grin.

🐈‍⬛: @allie-is-a-panda @minghaosimp @nicolepvp8 @blaricee @parkinglot-nights @jmscaffeine @httpjeonlicious @jeonjungkooksbabamomma @army061313 @crazyovayou @thvvcut (idk why some don’t tag😔)

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bunnyhugs77 · 10 months ago

Text

Mr. Take Your Bitch

Pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Content Warning: jk is a little cocky, player! jk, reader gets flustered so easily, jk is such a tease, smooth talker jk, clubbing, ft bts, interviews, reader is small (like 5'1), insults, alcohol consumption, infidelity, readers boyfriend is an asshole, mentions of smoking, impulsive jk, what happens in vegas stays in vegas, messyyy, suggestive themes, sweet gestures.

Other Content: hair pulling, manhandling, oral sex (f! receiving), squirting, missionary, jk splits reader in half, big dick! jk, doggy style, dacryphilia, praise and degradation, cream pies, minor possessive jk, unprotected sex (be better than them), recording.

"How do I look?" Sunny tosses the perfectly sculpted curls in her hair once more, pouting in the dressing room mirror, making sure that not a strand was out of place.

"For the eighth time, you look great, as always." She stands, her red off-the-shoulder top accenting her white pencil skirt and perfect figure, she really did look gorgeous. "Great isn't enough. This is the first time I'm interviewing THE BTS. I need to look perfect."

"You do. I promise." You reassure with a comforting right hand on her shoulder while you center her necklace with your left. "Y/n, we need you out here to help set up." Your manager cracks the door open to call for you briefly before leaving.

"I still cannot believe you dragged me into this coffee girl job just for you to get close to Namjoon." Sunny's full lips stretch from ear to ear showing off her million-dollar smile, "What's so wrong about me wanting you nearby for emotional support? But at least I got you a job out of it, 3 weeks ago you were on the brink of poverty.'' Her arms crossed and you had to admit, she did have a point.

"What was the whole point of this again?" You simply had to ask, remembering the midnight phone call Sunny surprised you with about a month ago when she landed the Hybe interviewer position.

"Remember the story I told you about, in Junior year, me and this boy from math camp snuck out 6 miles away with fake IDs and got shitfaced at the nearest bar then hooked up but I never got his name and he was in the middle of signing my journal we were interrupted and I never saw him again until-"

"You saw Namjoon's face on a billboard in Seoul, and you took this opportunity to get close to see if it was him or not. Yes, I remember now, it's all coming back to me." You finish her story for her.

"Exactly, and-"

"--Y/n, sometime today would be great." Your manager interrupts once again and you leave, apologizing frantically for making them wait, not wanting to lose this job. It actually paid pretty well considering all you did was make drinks.

Walking out of the dressing room, ignoring the buzz in the back pocket of your jeans as you followed your manager to the coffee cart offset. Although from here you had a perfect view of where the interview would take place.

They set it up to be very stylish and modern with BTS albums and concept photos placed strategically around the set within the camera shot. Along with a small coffee table, one chair on one side where Sunny would sit and seven on the other side.

It almost gave you chills to think about. The fact that in a few moments, the most popular boy band in the continent would be sitting right there. All seven of them, including the tempting one.

The one who makes you stumble over your words every time he comes down to the first floor to get a coffee even though there's a gazillion other places to get something to drink in the building.

Every time you see him, he's displaying a new style. Sometimes he comes down stacked with complex layers of clothing and covered in jewelry, or with nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, although the latter was possibly the worst of your few interactions. He's just so handsome, it made you want to squirm.

That day he was saying all the right things, yet saying nothing at all. Asking you simple questions like when you started working here, and if you liked coffee, meanwhile all you could mutter was an embarrassing 'yes'. What exactly you were saying yes to? You may never know.

You turned your back to the set and focused on making the pre-ordered drinks the members had sent down with their manager beforehand. By the time you turned back around Sunny was sitting in her place, anxious but ready.

You've been best friends since the 6th grade. She's incredibly outgoing and sociable, a balancing contrast to your more introverted nature although you could be a little extroverted with some alcohol in your system.

She was born for this job, you're sure she'll kill the interview. She mentioned that she'd bumped into a few of the members since she started working a month ago, but not Namjoon.

She definitely underestimated how hard it would be to 'bump' into a man who is guarded by security constantly and extremely busy, not to mention rarely in the country.

Hoseok was the first one to walk in, looking sharp as ever in casual attire but he he made it look incredible. Next was Jimin, and you noticed the way Sunny's eyes nearly widened when she finally saw Namjoon walk in behind Tae.

Finally, they were all inside and all greeted Sunny with a friendly hug and you can see she enjoyed her hug with Namjoon a little too much. Somehow finding something small to laugh about with him as they pulled away.

With an empty cup in your hand, you watched the most handsome group of men you've ever seen, file into the room and take a seat. "Go set these down before cameras start rolling." You feel a tap on your shoulder from another worker.

Did you zone out?

You placed a firm hand on your chest, taking a deep breath before placing a sturdy grip on the handles of the cart and bringing their beverages over. 'One foot in front of the other' you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the feeling of their gazes turning to you as you got closer.

Unable to look any of them in the eyes as you set down their drinks on the table saying the name of each one so they know which one is theirs.

You could feel his gaze on you whilst Sunny got to witness it first hand from where she sat. The way his jaw slowly clenches with each passing moment, watching you with dark, intense eyes. In that moment, the world around him blurred, and all that remained was the captivating image of you.

It was while you were placing down the final cup that you felt bold enough to finally look up from the table, glancing at Jimin who was talking to Hoseok on his right. Slowly your line of sight inches up and over his head to Jungkook who was sitting on a taller chair behind him.

He was looking right at you.

And that was more than enough for you to return to the cart and retreat to your station. The boys reached for their cups as the countdown to the interview began.

You watched with engaged eyes from the sidelines as the interview began, going through basic introductions and standard questions, you were listening along to the jokes made along the way.

It seemed they were having a great time out there, but you couldn't focus on all of them for too long. You wouldn't be doing your duties as Sunny's best friend if you didn't watch Namjoon's every move; including how he seemed to be the first one to answer almost any of her questions.

The questions were flying by and the discussion was so entertaining to watch but it was over before you even registered it. Sure, cameras had stopped rolling but they were all still talking.

You felt another buzz in your pocket, finally deciding to check.

Daehyun: Are you still mad? It's been 2 days, you're being dramatic. 12:02 pm

Daehyun: Why aren't you answering my texts? 1:12 pm

Daehyun: Fine. Keep ignoring me. Real mature, Y/n. 1:13 pm

You scoff at the messages.

Unbelievable.

Your boyfriend has left you astonished. Again!

You put your phone back on silent, secretly wishing you'd never checked it in the first place. Muttering under your breath about what a jerk he's been to you lately but you stop yourself. Because he's still your boyfriend, and sure, he fucked up a few times, bad. It doesn't change the fact that you're in a relationship with him.

If you could even call it that.

You've slept together twice. Well- 1.5 times if you wanted to get specific. The second time was so bad that you simply had to stop it altogether and make up some excuse so that you didn't hurt his feelings.

Shaking him out of your head and focusing back on your task at hand which was collecting the empty mugs from the table. Repeating the same process as before, avoiding all eye contact, but this time you didn't look up.

You didn't bother because you already knew he was watching you.

You were intimidated but you weren't oblivious.

"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!" You hear her from around the corner before you see her running towards you at your coffee station on the first floor. Sunny was practically bursting. You would think that she had captured the sun between her hands but it was something that would take your life for a spin, but you didn't know that yet.

"You're interview went so well!" You slip in your comment first knowing that once she says whatever she has to say, it'll go on for years.

"I know right! After you left to pack up, I was still talking to the guys and they really seemed to like me so they invited me and any +1 I want to invite on their weekend in Vegas trip tomorrow night! All expenses paid for!" Jaw-dropping wasn't the word. Knee buckling may be a better fit as you had quite literally stumbled and dropped a mug, thankfully it didn't break.

"No. No no no." You say, backing up and her entire demeanour deflated like a devastated puppy. "Why not?" You lean in close, whispering, "Because Jungkook is gonna be there--" She interrupts you, practically exploding with emotions. "Oh my god, he wants you so bad. Did you see the way he was looking at you?!" She whisper shouts.

"I know!" you plain shout out, realizing your volume needed adjusting and leaning forward onto the counter. "But he's Jeon Jungkook and I have Daehyun-" The most disgusted look runs across Sunny's face.

"I cannot believe you are even comparing the two right now. You said it yourself, one is Jeon Jungkook, and the other is Daehyun, a man you should've left in the dust months ago." Here we go again, you sigh.

"C'mon Y/n. He's an asshole, he's childish, he's bad in bed and honestly, the list should end there but no, he humiliated you in front of your family and he was caught in your sister's dm's on Christmas!!"

"It's May for god's sake and he's still stressing you out, and seeing you stressed makes me stressed. So why don't you come tomorrow, I'll keep you away from Jungkook if it comes to that, but please, you need to let loose a little and forget about him for just the weekend." She begs.

She could see you were starting to consider it.

"Please?" She pouts, giving you those same puppy eyes that convinced you to work here in the first place. "Please don't look at me like that, stop." You try to avoid her sorrowful gaze but It's like it intensifies to a point where you just can't look away, nor can you deny.

"Fine, fine. Okay, I'll go."

Considering you only just found out you were leaving the country yesterday, you think you did pretty good packing light but efficiently.

That's what you were thinking as you stepped behind Sunny onto the empty private jet. She'd already made arrangements to sit beside Namjoon.

She was crazy but you had to give the girl credit, she worked fast.

You weren't taking in a single thing, part of you was still in disbelief you had even seen the boys up close and personal yesterday.

This would all sink in for you in 5 years and then you'll be hit with a numbing regret of not doing things differently.

Or maybe it'll sink in for you right now, Jimin's full head of brown wavy hair is the first one you see to pop up on the plane and he flashes you a kind smile, taking a seat beside you.

He introduces himself as if you and half the world don't already know him but you engage anyway, giving him your name and the rest is history.

The flight was 11 hours so there was a lot of ground to cover between the two of you for the first 6 hours. Jimin was just such an easy person to open up with, any time you said something crazy you felt like he would have an even crazier story of his own to share.

He'd told you all about his first impressions of the guys to his first scandal that the label somehow managed to cover up because even you were in shock. It would have been over for him.

Then it was your turn, telling him about your exhausting boyfriend since it all started seven months ago.

"On Christmas?!" He shouts, "Why are you with him again?" You groan, "God you sound just like Sunny!"

The two of you were clearly enjoying your conversation while Sunny worked on getting Namjoon to talk a little bit about his past, trying to see if he really was the boy from all those years ago, but he seemed occupied reading his book and she wasn't going to interrupt him any longer. She sighs softly, looking out the window, watching the clouds fly by like art.

Meanwhile, at the front of the jet, Jungkook typed away on his laptop, sometimes blurbing some possible lyrics, but mostly keeping himself busy with a thousand rounds of Tetris. He tuned out the sound of your angelic laughter with his headphones, but it couldn't stop him from glancing to the back of the plane where you sat with Jimin every so often.

Only about an hour left before you landed and you really needed to pee but Jimin was in the way and fast asleep. You looked around, it seemed that everyone was fast asleep, but you really had to go.

Lightly tapping Jimin and asking him to let you through, he moves, half awake, just giving you enough time to pass before going back to his original position.

You exited the bathroom, nearly falling to the ground in horror when you came face to face with the man you'd nearly forgotten was on the jet. He smiles that classic bunny smile that the fans go crazy over.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He says it so sweetly, and in this hushed tone due to the late hour of the night it was making your head think things. Things that you should not be thinking about.

"You okay?" Checking in, seeing that you seemed to have zoned out mid-conversation. Shit. You were doing it again. "Y-yeah." You hated speaking to him it made you feel like you couldn't speak at all. He was just so tall, and his eyes were so big and endearing and-

"Really? Cause it looks like you've got something on your mind." It comes out in such a way that brings heat to your face, suddenly hyper-aware that everyone is asleep, and the two of you are out of sight in the narrow hall of the bathroom.

"Yeah, just excited for tomorrow." You lie, you felt sick to your stomach. He made you sick to your stomach. He gets a little closer, now close enough for you to be able to smell the soft cologne on his clothes. "What's got you so excited?"

It felt like you were watching yourself fall from the sky, it was slow but graceful, but you knew once you hit the bottom, things would get ugly. So you grew wings. "My boyfriend. We're planning on Facetiming tomorrow." It was like a repellant, the way he stepped back.

"Oh, that's nice." He mumbles and you take this opportunity to run back to your seat, hopping over Jimin and strapping yourself back in your seat, shaking your head over and over again.

This was a bad idea. You should not have come on this trip.

"She has a fucking boyfriend." Is the first thing Jungkook says to Yoongi and Jimin while the three sit in the back of the taxi that is en route to the hotel. Yoongi wasn't listening, still half asleep after only waking up 30 minutes ago. He would need a repeat of it all tomorrow.

"Pfft. Barely." Jimin mumbles. Triggering quite possibly the fasted head turn known to mankind, Jungkook looks at him with intrigue, "What do you mean by that."

"He's an asshole. Like a literal piece of shit, but she's still with him for whatever reason. It's gotta be Stockholm syndrome." Jimin shrugs. "But you can't tell her I told you this, I think she's pretty cool, so before you get your dick wet, think with your head first."

Yoongi hums in agreement with that one statement. He may be asleep but he knows a good statement when he hears one.

Jungkook did think. He thought about you all night. From the cab to the hotel, until he fell asleep and again when he woke up. Sure, you had a boyfriend, but it sounds like you shouldn't be with him, or at least deserved someone better.

The morning sun seeps through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the lavish surroundings. You and Sunny share a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the incredible experience that awaits. Or at least that's what Sunny thinks.

Instead, you retreat under the covers of your bed with an unpleasant sound. "How could I let you bring me here." Your voice is muffled and scratchy from it being the morning still. "Because you love me." She runs from her bed and jumps onto yours.

"Should we get room service?" She proposes and you slowly pull the covers down, revealing an interested expression. "Who's paying?" You ask. "Who cares! It's not us." She springs up and bounces for the phone.

By the late afternoon, you'd gotten an invite from Jimin, inviting you guys down to the pool, it was reserved just for them. "We're going, this isn't up for debate, Y/n. You said you would relax on this trip, so it's my job to make sure you do!" She pulls out the violet two-piece you'd packed in your luggage and shoves you into the bathroom, throwing the clothes in there with you after and shutting the door.

"I hate you y'know," you say from the other side of the door.

"You'll thank me one day, Y/n. One day."

There was a roar of cheers from the guys as the two of you walked into sight, the sun was beaming down on you and you were glad you brought your sunscreen.

Jungkook tried to be respectful to the sham of a relationship you were in but what was he supposed to do? You looked so hot in your bathing suit, you were so small but you still had curves in all the right places.

He just wanted to break you in half. Pin you down and-

A splash of water hits him in the face, "Stop eye fucking her and act like you've been neutered for once." Yoongi warns, swimming away before Jungkook could retaliate.

Jin calls Sunny into the water, and she just about jumped in while you were working on unwrapping your new bottle of sunscreen. Jungkook uses this as an opportunity. Looking down at the white shirt that was now soaked through, sticking to his abs he slowly steps out of the water.

Looking you right in the eyes as you shook the bottle. Now you were staring but you didn't care. You were looking at the son of Adonis, or maybe the god himself.

In the warm glow of the poolside sun, Jungkook emerged from the sparkling water, droplets cascading down his glistening skin. The pool's rippling surface bore witness to his athletic grace as he approached the pool chair where you reclined, still shaking the bottle.

His steps were confident, each one leaving a trail of water on the tiles beneath his feet. As he neared, he held your gaze with an intense, playful glint in his eyes. The air between you became charged with a magnetic energy, and a sly smile played on his lips.

With deliberate movements, Jungkook reached down to the hem of his white shirt, clinging to his sculpted physique. The fabric peeled away, revealing the contours of his toned abs. Beads of water followed the curves of his body, accentuating every defined muscle.

As the shirt came off, the sunlight caught on the droplets clinging to his skin, creating an ethereal effect. The sensual eye contact between the two of you intensified, creating a moment suspended in time. The poolside ambiance seemed to hush, allowing the connection between them to take center stage.

Your fist clenched, the sunscreen blurted out of the bottle, some landing on the smooth skin of your thigh but most hit the chair.

Jungkook's expression hinted at a playful confidence, acknowledging the allure of the moment. Your little accident told him all he needed to know. You wanted him.

Even if you didn't know it yet.

Wiping desperately at the sunscreen that had landed on you, a bigger hand comes to help. Gently rubbing the soft flesh of your thigh, Jungkook was crouched to your level with nothing more than a sincere smile as he helped you with your sunscreen.

Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water as you watched him from beside yourself. Unable to believe what was happening. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, and other places but you shook your head.

"Wh-what-" Jungkook looks up to you, moving his hand away. "My bad. I didn't mean to overstep, I just noticed that you'd spilt some of your sunscreen," He inches just a little closer so that you looked down at him from where you sat on your chair. "I'd hate for it to go to waste."

That mischievous tongue of his makes an appearance briefly as it swipes over his bottom lip before retreating; leaving behind glossy plump lips. It's not what he says, but how he says it.

Almost as though he wanted you to break.

You hated how he made you feel without saying anything out of the ordinary.

"You have to be shitting me," Yoongi curses to no one in particular as he watches Jungkook lean up towards you from where he was floating in the pool on the flamingo inflatable.

"You've gotta admit, the boy's determined." Jin adds while Hoseok shakes his head, "He just doesn't know when to give up."

Opening your hotel room door to see Jimin leaning against the wall waiting for you. He looked incredible in his black button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair swooped to perfection.

"About time." He kicks himself off the wall as you scoff, "Don't blame me, blame the dress." Your freshly manicured nail points to the red, velvet dress that left your chest exposed before it went under the halter neckline.

There was so much skin offered to anyone that looked at you. You looked absolutely stunning. The way the dress clung tightly to your curves was almost ungodly but made you seem even more angelic.

Twirling on your toes slowly to showcase the full rotation of your outfit and Jimin failed to suppress his gasp. The back- Your back was completely exposed safe for where the halter crossed behind your neck.

"You look hot, and I'm not just saying that." You grin, leading the way to the elevator and waiting for it to come up.

While you were watching the elevator screen, Jimin was watching you. Not lustfully or anything since he really did see the two of you becoming close friends in the future but his gaze was full of.. fear?

Jungkook was going to eat you alive tonight, and he was willing to put money on it.

The man has been able to show limited amounts of self-control since the trip began, and his little shirtless stunt at the pool earlier that day was proof.

The elevator dings and the doors open.

You step in, hearing your phone vibrating from within your maroon chain side bag. Digging through your various lipsticks, mini perfumes and hair pins you finally grab your buzzing device.

Daehyun: When did you go to Vegas?? and how did you get there? 4:33 pm

Daehyun: Baby, I'm sorry. I mean it. Stop Ignoring me. (now) 8:12 pm

You sigh, scrolling through your messages sadly. "Am I being too hard on him?" Jimin leans over to look at the messages, his face turning sour at Daehyun's messages. "I bet you he doesn't even know what he's apologizing for."

The elevator doors close, and Jimin presses the star symbol for the nightclub on the first floor where you would meet the others.

Shaking your head repeatedly, "No. That's impossible. He knows, Jimin. Trust me." He doesn't seem convinced in the slightest,

"Okay. Since you're so sure-" He snatched your phone from your grasp, his fingers moving at the speed of light and you panicked, reaching for the device but he held it high. "Jimin No-!"

"I said 'What are you apologizing for'. I won't send it if you don't want me to. But It seems like he's only apologizing because he knows he's in the wrong, but doesn't know what for."

The elevator dings, going down floor by floor, the silence slowly creeping up on you, "Send it." You say, and his thumb hits send.

The doors open.

You and Jimin step out into the club. Before you sprawled a vast expanse of vibrant colours. Neon lights adorned the walls, casting a kaleidoscope of hues that danced in rhythm with the music.

The dance floor, surrounded by elevated platforms and VIP booths, was the epicentre of the vibrant spectacle. Mirrored ceilings multiplied the dazzling display, creating a sense of endless sin.

"Do you know where they are?" You ask while Jimin leads the way into the crowd of hot bodies and blasting music, he glances down to the text from Tae, "Tae said they're in section 9." Maneuvering your way through the swarm of people until you meet up with the others.

Jimin walked up the steps first, the group's cheers blending in with the roars coursing throughout the rest of the club as he joined them with you closely behind, the cheers continuing for you with whistles once you reached the platform.

"Oh shit!" Sunny curses, rushing to your side to shower you with compliments. "I guess being 30 minutes late pays off, you look great." Tae welcomes you with a side hug and an invitation to sit beside him.

"You need to cool it." Jin pulls Jungkook in by the collar so that he could hear him over the music. Jungkook finally pulls his hungry gaze off of you and looks to his elder.

"You're making it way obvious, and obvious is not what you want. She has a boyfriend. There are hundreds of other girls here, find someone else." He lets him go and Jungkook shakes his head.

How Jin even found out that you had a boyfriend didn't phase him. The seven of them were as close as brothers, it was hard for him and Jimin to keep anything to themselves.

Hundreds of girls but they weren't you. He couldn't just switch it on and off. This wasn't as fun and playful as it once was before, he was starting to get addicted to the thought of you.

"You have any pre-rolls on you?" Jungkook leans over to Namjoon who was deep into a conversation with Sunny. Namjoon reaches inside the pocket of his blazer, "Never leave home without them."

"Great. I need a smoke." Jungkook huffs, standing, purposefully avoiding your gaze. God you looked so fucking fine in that dress, it made him crazy, sick to his stomach.

He's Jeon Jungkook for god's sake.

The concept of want is so unfamiliar to him. Any girl he wants could easily be in his bed the same day, but you-- he shakes his head bitterly-- you were giving him a hard time, all over what? some lame-ass boyfriend.

"Namjoon you comin' ?" He looks over his shoulder to see both him and Sunny standing, "Mind if I join?" She asks, "The more the merrier."

You watched as the three of them disappeared into the bustling crowd vanishing out of sight. "Where did they go?"

Tae leans forward looking at where the trio had just walked through. "Probably went to go ball up." Tae shrugs, "Which means it's time to really get this night started. First round on me."

It wasn't until three shots later when Jungkook had finally come back, this was the first time you really got a good look at him. He was wearing nothing but a black jacket that had the most delicate body chains striping across his abdomen, giving you a clear view of his sculpted abs and-

Your phone buzzes.

You: Why are you apologizing? 8:13 pm

Daehyun: Because you're upset. (now) 9:27 pm

God, Jimin might be right. He doesn't have a clue.

You: Do you even know why I'm mad? 9:27 pm

Daehyun: Is it because of the nudes I sent Soo-Min? I was drunk, I promise. It was a mistake. 9:28 pm

You gasp. You had no idea what he was talking about. You were referring to him standing you up when you told all your family that he would be coming. You never knew this had even happened.

You: What the fuck are you talking about? 9:29 pm

You: I cannot believe you right now. 9:29 pm

You: Stop fucking texting me. 9:30 pm

You weren't even sad or disappointed. You were used to him letting you down constantly. "Looks like you need another shot." You look up from the screen in your lap, making eye contact with ringed fingers wrapped around a shot glass with your name on it.

You take the shot in your own grasp, looking Jungkook in the eyes as you down it. Your face wincing a little at the burn in the back of your throat but you were beginning to feel that exciting warmth in your chest.

The strobe lights turn red as Chris Brown's Take You Down begins to play through the loud speakers all around the club. "Wanna dance?" He offered you his hand, your brain was a little hazy and your cheeks were flushed but Jungkook was too hot to resist.

"Love to."

The two of you walk off to the dance floor with the rest of the crowd.

Taehyung looks to Jin who looks to Hoseok who looks to Yoongi.

Yoongi sighs, shaking his head slowly taking another shot. "It's out of my control. Once they step on that floor, their fate is sealed."

It's true, the moment Jungkook's hands were on your hips that swayed to the music you knew you were screwed. You had every right to be apprehensive about going on this stupid trip in the first place, but deep down you knew it was inevitable.

This very moment was destined from the start.

"You look fucking perfect tonight." He whispers in your ear from behind you, subconsciously pushing your hips back on him and Jungkook could swear he's never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you at this very moment.

"Says you," You spin in his hold, now face to face.

His grip on your hips tighten, body unable to maintain its façade for much longer. Your hair was up in a bun tonight, showing off the industrial piercing he never even knew you had.

There were so many things he wanted to know about you, and not just physically. He wanted to be able to sit with you over a cup of coffee and talk about everything and anything.

His tight hold on you prompted a breathless whine to escape your lips but he heard it. "Stop it." He says and your eyebrows scrunch, genuinely confused. "Stop what?"

"Stop tempting me. I'm trying to be respectful." Astonishment wipes over your features. "You're telling me to stop? It's been you all along, making me trip over my words, and being so shirtless and hot all the time, making me forget I have a boyfriend." He chuckles.

"So you admit it. You think about me too?"

You step back.

"Yes, Jungkook. I cannot stop thinking about you and that's my problem. I need to get you out of my head." Your mouth was saying one thing, but with the way he was looking at you, your heart wanted him between your legs.

The almost forgotten feeling of lust finally coursed through your veins. It'd been so long since you'd gotten any action, you needed this.

But you couldn't.

He steps towards you, even closer than before. You could feel his firm body crowding against your own. The way he towered over you made you feel dizzy. He leaned down, ensuring that you could feel his warm breath on the shell of your ear when he spoke "Tell me you don't want me and I'll walk away."

You don't want him. you lie to yourself.

Trying to put these thoughts into words, your mouth opens.

"I need you, Jungkook." Finally admitting it.

There was no going back now, his lips crashed against yours with nothing less than an animalistic desire. It was fast-paced and messy but you loved it.

The dam finally broke.

You kissed with more than your lips, his hands on your waist, squeezing tight as he rolled his hips into you with the rhythm of the music.

This was so so wrong, but it felt so right.

The way his tongue rolled over your bottom lip with such skill made your thighs clench, you could only imagine the things he could do with it--

"Y/n!" Sunny screams your name from behind you, not even processing what you and Jungkook had just been doing while Namjoon was busy enjoying the music behind her.

You turned around, a little breathless and bothered after being disrupted but you were immediately occupied with analyzing Sunny's appearance. For starters her hair was ruffled and looked like it'd been put through the wringer, her lipstick (what was left of it) was fading and a little smudged.

And last that you checked she was wearing lashes when the night began but they were nowhere to be found. "Sunny where did you go-- Oh my god- Did you and Namjoon-" Her non-stop nodding causes you to clasp your hand over your mouth.

"It's him! He remembers me!" The two of you have your moment, squealing before Jungkook whispers in your ear. "Meet me at the elevator in 5." Sunny actually does catch on this time.

"Oh my god!? Are you gonna-"

You think about it, "I don't know!! Should I?! Daehyun just voluntarily admitted to sending nudes to Soo-Min god knows when and-" Sunny groans. "Leave him, for the love of god y/n stand up!" She yells.

"I can't just leave him he's my boyfriend, and it wouldn't make me any better than him." Sunny's eyes roll. "It won't be cheating if you plan on breaking up with his ass tonight. Just hurry up and decide, Jungkook's waiting for you." She winks and it gives you butterflies.

He was waiting for you.

The moment you turned the corner of the hallway, you saw Jungkook waiting outside the elevator as he said he would be, finally pressing the button. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," he laughs internally to himself at the double entendre, knowing Jungkook's track record, this has never been an issue for him.

The two of you step inside the elevator, it would be a long ride up to the 21st floor, the two of you did your best to stay to your respective sides of the elevator until there was a crowd of people that entered as well, pushing you into him.

Completely oblivious to the way your ass was pressed flush against his crotch, he looks up to the ceiling, wondering what he'd done in his past life to deserve this kind of punishment.

A beautiful girl pressed up against him but he couldn't do anything. As the crowd moved, so did you he hisses and your body stills, finally aware of what you were doing.

On the 13th floor the elevator empties completely, leaving just the two of you and you try to move away from him but his grip holds you in place. "Didn't think you'd be running from me so soon." You'd never heard his voice like this. It was deeper, bass full of wants and desires,

He spins you around, he had you cornered.

Looking up to him with that doe gaze of yours. His index finger gently rests under your chin, your gaze was practically begging him to kiss you, but in case he was hesitating you nodded just a little, permitting him to open your lips with his.

This kiss was a lot slower and deeper than the one before. It was soft and sweet, but slowly turned into a full-blown make-out session by the time the elevator made it to the 21st floor.

He leads the way to his room at the end of the hall, beside Hoseok's room.

Jungkook worked on unlocking the door while you chewed on the tip of your acrylic. Were you really about to do this?

"I'm going in my room, and you don't have to follow, but I'm leaving the door unlocked." He says, disappearing behind the door. Looking over your shoulder, your room was 4 doors down.

You could still back out now, it wasn't too late.

All you would need to do is have a long talk with Daehyun.

You scoff, even his name irritated you. Your heart knew things weren't going to work out between the two of you once you got back home, regardless of whether you slept with Jungkook or not.

He's broken your trust far too many times, and besides, Sunny was right, he is an asshole.

You walk into Jungkook's room and make sure to lock the door behind you.

"That's my girl," He purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before gracing you with a heated kiss, the kind of kiss that made you stumble as he walked you back to the door.

"Hope you put that phone on dnd." He whispers, kissing down your neck, skillfully managing to take your hair down at the same time. You looked like the epitome of sin, hair falling over your shoulders as if it fell from grace while your neck was littered with hickeys, your plump bottom lip tugged between those perfect teeth of yours.

Your dress was the first thing to go, he loved it on you, but it served its purpose, and it did it well. Soon his jacket was finally off revealing his muscular build that you'd seen in the fan cams but it couldn't compare to the real thing.

You kissed him back desperately as your legs were wrapped around his waist while he made his way to the bed, dropping you down to your back watching the way you bounced.

Your perfect tits are the first victim of his passionate affection. Leaving tender kisses on the soft flesh, "Jungkook-" you gasp feeling him wrap his lips around your nipples, tongue working hard to push you towards that edge that you'd been inching closer to since you got in here.

He groans as he feels your hands roam over his back, anticipating the feeling of your nails scratching his skin. Finally moving down from your breasts once they were covered with his kisses and hickeys.

You could feel yourself practically soaking through your under, not to mention the way it was sticking to you. "Looks like someone's worked up," he teases, slowly peeling you out of your ruined underwear.

"What's got you so hot and bothered, is it your boyfriend?" You sit up so fast almost getting a head rush and he laughs. "Jungkook." You say and he gives you a look of lust. "What? Say it baby, use your words. Tell me who makes you this wet. Is it me or him?"

You press your legs together, unable to believe that this was turning you on more. "He couldn't turn me on." He looks up to you with wide eyes. "Is that so?" Nodding your head slowly, letting Jungkook gently push you back down to the bed.

On his knees he takes a deep breath at your core, a guttural sound rumbling in his chest as he was face to face with your dripping core. "So you're saying it's me?" he asks, letting his tongue run a flat stripe against your soaked folds.

"YES! It's you Jungkook please, stop teasing, please I can't take it. I'm already so close." You beg, body thrashing around enough for him to pin your legs over his shoulder and to keep you still.

You were stroking his ego, telling you you were already so close and he's barely touched you. Your boyfriend must've been shit in bed, and he was determined to make it up to you. He was going to show you what you've been missing.

Finally eating you out to his heart's content, ignoring the way your feet continued to move frantically over his shoulders he lapped up at your core, flicking his tongue over your clit until your body spasmed uncontrollably. "I'm-" Unable to even finish the sentence before you were blinded by an earth-shattering orgasm.

It ripped through you like a storm and came squirting out of you just like one too. "You've got to fucking kidding me," Jungkook murmurs to himself and you froze. Was he mad?

He stands up, "Of course the hottest girl I've ever seen squirts on my tongue. Good fucking hell, Y/n. It's like you want me obsessed with you." Who was he kidding, he was already obsessed.

He picked you up so carelessly, bringing you to the balcony where it overlooked the Las Vegas strip. You could see the hotel's illuminated pool and all the car lights as they zoomed on the highway far in the distance.

"Hope you're not scared of heights."

Your stomach twisted at the thought of being so high up, but it was all forgotten once your leg was propped up and you felt your folds being prodded open by the fat head of Jungkook's cock.

"No- fuck! Wait." you cursed feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of his size nearly causing you to fall but he held you steady against the railing, bulging biceps on either side of your body, caging you in safely.

Jungkook knew better, this should be the last place he should be doing something like this but with your pretty ass right in front of him it was such a beautiful sight, and the scenery was cool too.

"It's too much," you pant, arms bracing yourself on the fence that kept you from falling 200 feet below. "It's only the tip baby, you sure you can take the whole thing?" You pause in thought, you needed him, all of him. "I can take it. keep going." You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every nook and cranny of your womb.

It felt like he was in your lungs, you were knocked breathless, and he didn't move. Your body went limp in his arms, exactly what he feared would happen. He quite literally split you open, but you were determined to take it.

You clawed at the railing desperately, looking for any kind of relief from what you were feeling. "Deep breaths baby, I'll go slow." You nod, eyes squeezed shut as his hips slowly roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in.

"Oo-oh. fuck. Jungkook, keep going." you moan, head falling onto your hands; feeling what was once pain morphs into an addicting, sweet pleasure, over time his pace picks up until he was fucking into you with no remorse.

Even if no one could see you from this high up, they sure as hell could hear you. The way you cried out his name like a prayer over and over while Jungkook's brain was short-circuiting with the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds it created.

"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this, huh?" He angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace even though you've already come twice now. Your body jolts with each snap of his hips.

You shake your head, but that isn't enough for him, flipping you around so that you're facing him, he pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Use your words Y/n. You're my smart girl, look me in the eyes and tell me that your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do." Your eyes snap open, "He c-could never fuck-!" Jungkook slowed down his thrusts to something so much deeper, your eyes rolled and Jungkook nearly came just at the sight.

"Shit, I'm gonna come." He pants, and with a few more erratic thrusts you feel his warm cum fill you up. He slowly lets you stand but your legs fail you immediately. Scooping you up in his arms effortlessly he brings you to the bed, clearly not done with you.

That's how you found yourself on the brink of your third orgasm while Jungkook plowed into you from behind, obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock.

Your arms had given out long ago hence why your cheek was smushed into the sheets of the bed while you whimpered like a whore. "God you should look at yourself," He laughs almost maniacally from behind you.

Feeling himself approach his climax, "Jungkook- please!" you cried out, the friction only adding to the stimulation, "m' gonna-" you try to get back up on your arms but you couldn't move.

"I wonder what your boyfriend would say if he saw you like this,'' A wicked smile spreads across his lips as he reaches for your phone that was forgotten somewhere on the bed, hitting record.

Pulling you up onto your arms, tugging your hair by a makeshift ponytail, the flash highlights the various bruises all over your body left by yours truly. The audio was picking up his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the room was quiet enough you could probably hear the welt squelch of your cunt sucking in his length with each push.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You cry out, coming once more and your body goes limp, Jungkook ends the recording and tosses the phone to the side while he chases his own high finishing soon after you.

He pulls out slowly, "Y/n, baby? Are you with me?" He taps your cheek gently, and your eyes barely open, "I think you fucked the soul out of me," He dares to flash you a nervous smile as if he hadn't just fucked you dumb.

"Come, let's get you cleaned up."

"That was one hell of a trip." You mumble to Sunny on the phone as you wheel your suitcase down the hall to the door of your apartment where there was a big bouquet of flowers.

"Oh my god," You say, crouching down, wincing a little as you did to read the card. "What?" Sunny asks and you explain what you were seeing.

"Do you think they're from Daehyun?" You scoff, "Fat chance."

You open the envelope to read the card aloud,

'To the hottest girl. We should get donuts sometime, I heard you like them cream-filled ;) Text me sometime xxx-xxx-xxx. -J.K'

Sunny squealed in your ear.

"I'll call you back." You say, dialling Jungkook's number.

"Hello?" He answers.

"You got me flowers?" You couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face, and he could hear it. He closed his fridge and leaned on the counter, "You like 'em?"

Holding the vase in your hand you take a deep sniff, "I love them."

He shakes his head. "This is so sad. You're too easy to impress. Let me treat you better than that jerk, Y/n." Your mouth falls open-

"How- What?"

"Jimin mentioned the details to me but don't get mad at him; it doesn't change the fact that the guy is an asshole." You sigh.

"I know."

"So?" Jungkook starts, waiting for you to say something.

"I think you mentioned something about cream-filled donuts. When and where?"

He smiles.

#bts #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jungkook fic recs #bts one shot #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #btssmuts #bts scenarios #fluff #bts smut #smut

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f0ofishies · 4 months ago

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What he does when he climax ; hq edition

Holding your hand !

He was totally looking at you with heart eyes, just the sight of your divine face as your juice was leeking out, filled him with ego. "Ah— baby that's right..!" He exclaimed as he rushed to put two fingers to stop the leakage. Your hole clenching at the process.

His other palm caressing the back of your own palm. "Feel me, yeah? say something sweetheart.." His voice slurred already fucked.. God he loved when he could feel you this close. The sounds of your breath panting as you felt his lips grazing the back of your palm.

You were too fucked out, can't do anything much as your eyes was almost cowering from his stature. "Fucked you dumb, ya can't speak with me..?" He pouted, his smile drooped down to a small frown.

"t's alright, love.. I'll make you go dumb on my cock."

Bokuto Koutaro, Nishinoya Yuu, Haiba Lev. (any other character also works)

Immediately records it !

He had grabbed the phone from your nightstand, yes.. his clear case phone that had a polaroid of you two kissing. As he pampered your face with kisses. "Look up here, pretty.."

His velvety voice bounced off the walls as you whined. Your tear stained face makes him want to pound you more. Even with the flashlight on your face– you didn't mind how lewd you look. Your eyes stare back at the camera, as you stuck out your tongue like a puppy.

"Mmm, so good.. just for me yeah?" He whispers as his hand, with his phone immediately zooms into your puckering hole. It was filled, of course albeit to him. "It's oozing out of you.." He whispered, you couldn't help but whine.

You hesitantly bring two of your fingers down immediately, grazing your flesh just to insert it in. To keep it all in there. He chuckled as he stopped the recording, immediately taking pictures of your form.

"That's right baby, put me in your womb yeah..?"

Miya Atsumu, Oikawa Toruu, Suna Rintarō. (any other character also works)

Keeps thrusting !

He doesn't care how sensitive he was, he just kept pounding into you. The slaps of flesh heard throughout the entirety of the room. "no— more..!" You huffed through your tears, trying to stop them as you wiped.

"Not when you grip me so tight, baby..!" He exclaimed as his hips rocked back into you. His hands against the headboard, as your back sprawled out on the messy sheets. No he didn't want to pull out now.. not when you'll leak all of his cum out. Hell no.

Your cries were heard, poor neighbours but you didn't care about that much. He knew you loved it when people could hear you both get so dirty with eachother. "Fuck– s'tight ahh.. you're close yeah?" He also did not give a flying fuck if he already came before you, it just aided when he feels you tighten around him.

"S'fast.. wait.." Your bit your lip and he tapped your chin. You looked up at him as he pulled your bottom lip down, it glossed with your tears. "No no, let me hear you scream.." He chuckled so loudly as you were slammed once again.

"Cover up your voice again– I'll fuck you twice as hard again."

Kuroo Tetsuro, Tsukishima Kei, Iwaizumi Hajime. (any other character also work.)

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hollandsfavbabe · 6 months ago

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Wet & Wild

pairing: art donaldson x reader

synopsis: in which you, a swimmer, and art, a tennis champ, change each other's lives for the better when you challenge his match-like stance on life

warnings: smut build up, porn with a plot, making out, cursing, frat party, art being stupid, happy ending dw, two parts because I cannot condense my writing for the life of me

word count: 4.0k

masterlist

“Swimmers…”

You curled your fingers around the rough end of the diving board, unconsciously holding your breath as you readied for the starting noise. The pool glinted below you, reflecting light from the glaring sun above that sparkled like the blue glitter polish on your toenails. But you ignored it, blocking out anything that wasn’t the signal as you lowered your neck.

“Take your marks…”

There it was. You tensed as the official hovered her finger over the mic button. She was about to send you off and there could be no hesitation once she did. Any second now.

“GO!”

You were already under as the crowd started cheering. Two laps,100 meters, that’s all that it took and you had already conquered a quarter of the length by the time you came up for your breakout strokes. You cut through the smooth pool surface leaving white water waves in your wake. You tried not to let your gaze stray anywhere away from the tiled black line at the bottom of the pool as you felt the competition slipping behind you.

As the wall comes into view at the other end of the 50 meter pool, you take your first breath of the race and pause your strokes for only a second to perform a nearly perfect flip turn. You only have one more length back before it’s over and you can claim the medal that is rightfully yours as you come up from your last breakout. Arms pulling and legs kicking almost frantically, you’re almost there, so close you can sense the touch pad waiting for you at the end. You zoom past the flags and…

“I can’t believe I lost by less than two tenths of a second!” you groan, taking a swig from the Heineken one of your teammates had handed you when you arrived earlier. More than 12 hours had passed since your race and yet you couldn’t stop thinking about your unexpected loss. It had plagued you still as you had made your way to the party a random fraternity had thrown, though your team considered it a celebration after the Stanford swim team took home another champion title. It was small in comparison to the larger meets you had won in the past, but it was a reason to stay out past the curfew your coach imposed on you. And any reason to stay out was good enough for you.

“You’re not actually upset about that, are you?” Chloe asked, one of your teammates who competed in the endurance free events. While you would consider yourself close to nearly every girl who swam with you, Chloe was more of an instant best friend.

You shake your head as she sips on her own beer. Unlike you, she had opted for a brand with a higher alcohol percentage as she was unafraid of hangover ridicule that inevitably awaited her at your next morning practice.

“Of course not. You know me, winning is only a plus. I just can’t believe I got so close to the record!”

It was true. You didn’t so much mind losing the first place prize to the opposing team in such an insignificant meet. What really had you grinding your teeth was the fact that you had only been a half of a second away from the official Stanford record. You weren’t sure where you lost that time in your race, whether it was one of your two breaths or if you needed to dive further out, but you were set on remedying every part of your race until the problem was solved. Your next meet was only a week away and unlike this one, it would be a much bigger deal.

“You got that girl,” Chloe assured you, patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. “Half a second ain’t nothing for you.”

“I hope so. I’m not missing any more practices until I get it.”

Your conversation was disrupted as the room suddenly erupted in cheers, people gathering around the entrance as newcomers entered. You turned your head towards the noise, searching for whoever could elicit such a response.

You caught sight of him right away, a man you had never seen before though immediately prayed you’d never lose sight of. He was tall, his head covered in light blonde curls that were well trimmed to not hang over his hooded eyes. He was attractive, no doubt, but there was more to him than looks. There had to be. Anybody had to be more than attractive to get applause in a place like Stanford, especially within the frat parties.

“Who is that?” you nudged Chloe in his direction. She was normally more up to date than you on the campus celebrities as she didn’t get swallowed up by her swimming commitments as often as you. Chloe nearly choked on her drink as she saw him, turning back to you with a befuddled expression.

“You don’t know Art Donaldson? He’s like the most promising tennis student to ever play here.”

You furrowed a brow, staring at Chloe as if she had said something incredibly stupid.

“Do I look like I watch fucking tennis?” you gestures to your hoodie that clearly bore the words ‘Stanford Swimming and Diving’.

“Let me put it this way,” Chloe started, unoffended as always. “He’s already won the Junior US Open in the doubles category. He got second in the singles and at the rate he almost qualified for the real thing.”

“What’s stopping him?” You asked, looking back in the direction of the man who had now settled on the dance floor with a drink. You sensed a catch in Chloe’s explanation.

“That.”

Chloe pointed to the only television in the house that was conveniently showing a rerun of one of the man’s, Art’s, matches which from the date you could tell happened the same time as your meet. He was amazing, more skilled than any of the few players you had ever watched before, but even you, someone who knew nothing about tennis, could tell that he was playing like something was holding him back. Every ball out of his reach skirted to the fence behind him until he eventually lost. You couldn’t understand how a Junior US Open champion could miss shots that were arguably hard, but reasonable for a professional. There had to be more to it than what lay on the surface and as a swimmer you couldn’t stop the urge to dive in deeper.

“Oh no,” Chloe smirked. She knew you too well to miss when you were after something you wanted. And you weren’t sure by which mystical force you were being pulled, but you started to gravitate away from her. “You’re going to go after him, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna do a walk around.” you promised, standing from your couch seat beside her, though you were both certain she wouldn’t see you again until practice the next day.

“Good luck.”

You were careful not to approach him directly, instead jumping into a conversation with a couple of your teammates who happened to be chatting in his vicinity. After several minutes of receiving congratulations for your attempt at the record, the group surrounding Art had finally dispersed leaving him alone with his drink on the floor. Lucky for you, by the time he was without a crowd to bypass, your group had moved on to much more nonsensical topics. It was then, by chance or fate as you believed, that he just so happened to bump into you, forcing your drink out of your hand and his attention onto you.

The glass of your Heiniken sank to the group, shattering into a million dazzling pieces of green glass, but you were able to block it out with the focus of a swimmer as you felt his stare on you.

Through the flashing lights you were able to make out the shape of his face better, mapping out sharp jawlines and chiseled cheekbones. You decided then you preferred this Art, the one who smiled at you anxiously over his moving body on the tennis channel and by the slight intrigue on his face, you could tell he felt similarly.

“I’m so sorry,” he professed, looking down at the mess of glass behind you before his blue eyes again met yours “You okay?” He had to shout over the loud music, guilt evidently rushing through him as if he had shoved you to the ground rather than accidentally causing you to drop your nearly empty bottle.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Art, right?”

Art nodded, leaning in closer to you so that he could hear you over the blaring club music.

“Do I know you?” he asked, in awe that you knew his name as if it wasn’t being broadcasted all over the Stanford sport program.

“Not yet,” you laughed, pointing to the screen where you had just seen him, watching as a wave of embarrassment washed over him as they replayed the portion of the match where he lost it all, unbeknownst to you. “I was watching your game. You’re really good.”

“You play?”

“Not tennis.” you gestured to the logo on your hoodie, hoping the disco lighting wasn’t enough to distort the clear waves of the swimming logo.

“Oh wow,” he marveled. “I didn’t even know we had a swim team.”

“What can I say? My sport’s not quite as popular as yours.” you shrugged, shooting him a smile.

“We’ve really gotta get you another drink.” Art pointed out as he took a swig of his own beer.

“Sure,” you agreed. “I just have to take care of this first.”

You turned around to the glass mess that waited for you only to find that your teammates had already handled it in the time you had spent getting introduced to Art, leaving the two of you plenty of time to get acquainted, mess free. You caught sight of them across the room sitting next to Chloe, smirking at you as you looked their way. You rolled your eyes at the sight.

Art had his arm offered out to you when you turned back to him, a guarantee that the two of you wouldn’t get separated on the floor as you headed into the kitchen. It’s there that the seconds fade into elongated hours as you get to know more about each other. You told Art all about your life on the team and why swimming was your calling out of all sports while he spilled to you every tennis affiliated memory from his childhood where you learned he attended a special boarding school for the sport. You made note of his humility as he never once mentioned his success on the Junior US Open and the high level he can play.

You finish the soda Art had gotten for you as the music in the main room increases in volume, forcing you to crane your neck in order to talk in his ear, leaning in so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s not much taller than you, but it’s enough to make a difference.

“I can’t hear anything with this music,” you admitted, speaking at a timbre that’s loud enough to be audible to Art without bursting his eardrums. “Do you wanna move somewhere else?”

You knew Art was joining you when he looked at you with consideration. But it was impossible for you to know exactly what he was thinking, staying ignorant to the fact that he supposed after losing his match and an evening with Tashi due to another scheduled Patrick reappearance, what did he have left to lose? He wouldn’t normally do this, but you look like the perfect contender for a brand new game.

“Let’s go upstairs.” he nodded towards the stairs to your left, accepting your invitation. “It won’t be as loud up there.”

And so you both made your way up the frat house staircase, passing by closed door after closed door until you finally found a vacant bedroom. While you don’t know who lives there, it was tidy enough for you to neglect caring as you followed Art inside and shut the door behind you.

“I don't think I ever caught your name, by the way.” Art stated as he took a seat on the bed in the center of the room, leaving a space for you beside him..

“Oh, I didn’t say.” you chuckled in realization as you sat beside him, your name falling from your lips as you met the lumpy mattress.

“And this is your reward party?” he wondered, a thought you can’t help smiling at as you shake your head.

“Definitely not,” you took another swig from your bottle. “I don’t think there’s any real reason behind this besides to fuel college memories. If anything, they’d be celebrating you. You’re like famous right?”

Art’s gaze moves to the shag carpet below as he shakes his head of blonde curls, disappointment shrouding his face.

“Not quite,” he disagreed, his eyes meeting yours once more. “I don’t know if you saw the whole thing, but my match today wasn’t anything to celebrate.”

“Why not?”

“Because I lost.”

He stated it like it was obvious which only confuses you as a swimmer. All the work and dedication he must put into his sport all to think there was no yield. You couldn’t imagine basing your pride off of winning and winning alone when there were so many other components to competing.

“So?”

He’s startled by your nonchalance towards losing, something so foreign to him it isn’t even a refreshing take.

“So?” he repeated. “So I failed today. I let my team down. I let Tashi down.”

Tashi. You’ve definitely heard that name before. Though you don’t know much about the inner workers of tennis, everyone and their mother in the state of California knows who Tashi Duncan is. She’s the most famous person on campus, in and out of the tennis world. You didn’t know her personally, only ever seeing her when walking between classes. You also knew she had a boyfriend who didn’t attend Stanford from seeing them eating together. There had always been something off about her and now, with Art beside you in full self-deprecation mode, you figured you were about to find out exactly what it was.

“Is that who you were looking at?” you asked, piecing together that she must’ve been in attendance at his match. He immediately tensed at the mention, surprised you caught the simple detail. “I saw during your match. You looked like you were distracted.”

“It wasn’t just her,” he shook his head. “One of my oldest friends just flew for the weekend. He was there with her.” he paused. “They both saw me fail.”

“I’m sure they were both proud of you.” you assured, but Art was quick to set you straight as his friends didn’t operate the same way yours did.

“No, you don’t get it. I’m nothing if I don’t win.”

“Well it’s okay, you can just try again next time.”

“It doesn’t work like that. That’s not what tennis is about.”

You sensed a planted ideology in his evaluation, causing you to probe further.

“Really? So tennis isn’t just hitting balls with rackets over and over?”

“It’s more than that,” he informed you, taking no offense from your lack of knowledge. “It’s a relationship. It’s about the fight between two people. The back and forth until someone comes out on top. And even then the winning, it’s not nearly as important as the match. I didn’t just lose today, I let the crowd down. And my opponent won without the intensity of a good match. All because of me.”

You quieted as he explained, placing a careful hand on his shoulder as he finished. You felt for him, absorbing his sorrows like a therapeutic sponge, but it didn’t take a tennis expert to understand that bullshit behind his dogma. It sounded more like a manipulation technique than anything, all stemming from the same source.

“Did Tashi tell you that?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if your statement was any more outrageous than the lies he had been fed.

“It’s the truth.” he answered.

You weren’t sure how to get across to him, if it was even possible to crash through the wall of his beliefs in the first place, but you knew you had to try. It wasn’t right for him to harbor such disappointment over a match that did nothing to disprove his skill at his sport.

“Okay,” your voice softened as you thought of a way to challenge his theories. “Let’s change the subject. How about I tell you how swimming works?”

“Isn’t it more of the same?” he sighed, still overcomplicating his loss.

“Actually it’s very different.” you corrected.

“What do you mean?” Art asked, looking at you with the utmost intrigue.

“What if I told you that even the losers in swimming end up winning?”

Incredulous of the possibility, Art waited for further explanation.

“See like tennis, we have the players and of course only one person in each race can come out on top, but it’s not about beating the other players. Once you’re out there, it’s just you and the water. That’s the only relationship. It doesn’t matter where anyone else is, beside you, behind you, that’s not what’s not important. All that matters is how well you swim and if you lost a few seconds on the time board. Everything else is lost to the waves. And if your time is the fastest well, that’s just one big fucking bonus.”

Art sat with your words, unable to reply as he processes the possibility of winning as a loser. It’s almost too hard to imagine. You leaned closer to him, breath catching as his eyes moved down to your lips and one of his hands gently gripped your thigh.

“Really?” he asked.

You nodded, your faces so close now that your nose nudged his own.

“I didn’t win today either,” you whisper to him. “But my team screamed when I touched that wall. And do you know why?”

He waited for you to explain, eyes fluttering close for only a second as you laid a palm on his shirt, feeling the hard muscle that lay beneath. Your hands trailed to his sleeves, settling his bare skin a blaze as you take in his equally sturdy biceps.

“I almost beat a school record today. First time in 30 years if I had done it.”

“There’s no records like that in tennis.” he countered, but there was uncertainty in his tone. As if he was waiting for you to further back this new perspective. As if he was really starting to believe it.

“Then maybe you should take a page out of my book. Leave tennis in the past for now and focus on what’s here, in the present…” your lips brush over his before you mutter, “... focus on me.”

You're not entirely sure who initiated it, but before either of you could get out another word, his lips were on yours. You dove head first into the kiss, his lips melting against yours as you swipe your tongue out to catch the lingering taste of cheap beer at the edge of his parted mouth. It’s all so soft, like two cracked dolls who want nothing more than to break for the other until the intensity reaches its peak and you could feel microscopic beads of sweat forming at your brow.

Art pulled you in closer, gentle hands moving to your waist as the faint vocals of California Gurls played distantly in the background. His fingers curled into your sides, worming their way under the hem of your hoodie as they gave way to underlying desire, sparking every inch of your skin that they came into contact with.

You sighed as his teeth sank into your bottom lip. Pausing the kiss, he tipped his head back to jerk ever so lightly on your lip before allowing it to snap back into place and at once you crashed back into mouth, kissing him with a fervor you don’t remember ever feeling this intensely. Every movement, every change in the pace all worsened the heat igniting within you.

You tugged on the blonde roots of his curls that rest closest to his neck and soon enough you felt Art’s needy fingers claw at the waist back of your black athletic shorts. Though you're in desperate need of relief from the growing pool of desire at your core, you knew it was time to pull back. Art didn’t let you go so easy, his lips chasing after yours once you’ve broken the kiss, but it’s no use. You knew you couldn’t do this, at least not tonight.

“What’s wrong?” Art whispered against your lips, automatically assuming that it was his own fault rather than an independent decision of your own. It was certainly too intimate for a man you’d only just met, but you have to cup his cheek to keep from breaking as his own hands part from your skin.

You told him some form of the truth, that you didn’t think the timing was right. It’s not that you didn’t want to, you were dying to sneak another taste of his lips in and give him everything he’s ever wanted right there and then. But you couldn’t. Not when you know that it’s just another match. A distraction from Tashi. Especially not when you know that it didn’t have to be.

“We can’t do this here.”

Art face fell at your words, but he’s never been one to give up so easily.

“Then let’s go back to my place.” he offered, hoping it was just the atmosphere of the party that alarmed you. He wasn’t ready for you to leave.

“No, not tonight.” you frowned apologetically. “Not while you’re playing tennis.”

He stared at you in utter confusion as you stood up from your place beside him, dusting off your clothes as if you hadn’t been enjoying him all along. He didn’t understand the reasons behind your sudden switch, but he’s willing to risk it all in the heat of the moment.

“You want me to quit.” he suggested as if it’s a solution both of you are comfortable with. You turned back to him disturbed, shaking your head wildly at the proposal.

“Of course not, Art, you know that’s not what I mean,” you began, gathering an explanation that you hope will convey your reasons without making him feel like a complete piece of shit. “I don’t know what Tashi told you, but to me it sounds like she expects a winner. She’s programmed you into believing the player doesn’t matter without a title.”

You stepped an inch in his direction, close enough that you can see even the smallest details of his face, but not enough for him to touch you again.

“…but she’s forgetting that without the player, winner or loser, there is no title. Without a foundation, there is no relationship between you and the other player. And nobody can succeed if they’re scared of failure.” you explained further. You knew your words resonated with Art as his gaze turned to the stained carpet of the bedroom, but he had to pass the ball back.

“Well, you said it yourself, you don’t know Tashi.” he fired back, and you knew it’s only the tennis talking.

“You know I’m right.”

Art was silent, only proving your point. You knew you had to leave, but you had to promise him a second meeting, for him and for yourself. You wouldn’t be blocked from a happy ending by wrong timing.

“Come to my meet next weekend,” you invited him. “It’s the biggest one of the year. You should see how other sports operate.”

“I can’t see you before then?”

You almost smiled at the confirmation that his frustration wasn’t directed towards you.

“I have practice,” you shrugged. “- and so do you. You can see me again at my meet and in the meantime, just think about what I said. And know that you’re more than a loser, Art.”

You left without another word, shutting the door while silently cursing yourself for not taking the opportunity while you had it. It was very possible that you would never see the tennis star again, that every spark you felt with him in your first hour of knowing him was entirely one sided. You prayed it wasn’t true, that he had shown some feelings in return, but only time would tell. In exactly one week, you would be certain.

part two out now!!!

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x female reader #tashi duncan #patrick zweig #challengers #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #swimming #swimmer life #stanford art!!!#challengers fanfic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson smut #smut

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lollixp0p · 10 months ago

Text

The Video (18+)

Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader

Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings

Word count: just under 3k!

Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!

Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.

Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣

Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!

It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.

Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.

There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.

It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.

Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.

See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.

The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.

Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.

Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.

He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.

Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.

It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.

He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.

"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.

He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.

When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?

He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.

"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.

Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.

The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.

One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.

All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.

"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.

Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.

"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.

"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.

The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.

He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.

With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.

Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.

Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?

Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.

After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).

He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.

The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.

The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.

While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.

"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.

"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"

Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.

"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.

Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.

He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.

He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.

❣️:

Can I see what you've been working on? :)

I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!

Jinnie:

Well... since you asked so nicely😉

[video sent]

Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.

It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?

'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.

He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.

Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.

Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.

Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...

You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.

You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.

You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?

It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.

❣️:

Uhm...😕

Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.

He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...

Oh God.

Did he send the wrong video?

Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.

He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.

Jinnie:

Oh god

I'm so sorry!!

Please don't watch that!

❣️:

Don't worry!!!

I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖

I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!!

Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.

...

Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.

Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.

You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.

But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.

Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.

On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.

He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"

You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.

You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.

You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.

Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.

"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?

It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.

You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?

You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.

You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?

It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.

#cupid♡writing #sub!idol #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #dividers by cafekitsune

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