#because let’s face it these two ride or die for each other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

accioharrington9 · 11 days ago

Text

we can't be friends (but i'd like to just pretend)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

prompt: four times you spent a holiday with your best friend Steve Harrington and one time you didn't and missed him.

word count: 10.2k

warnings: friends-to-lovers, everyone can see it (including steve and reader but they're both kind of in denial), mutual pining, characters in their mid-twenties, fluff and (some) emotional angst, steve uses a cheesy nickname for reader, mentions of partying and alcohol consumption, some swearing, no use of y/n

notes: hi all, this is the first reader fic that i publish here, so bear with me, i tried my best <3 in light of the year-end celebrations, this fun little idea of a fic came to me and i decided to give it a shot, so i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

🥂🥂🥂

“What are your resolutions for the new year?”

You looked up from your glass of champagne when Steve asked you that question out of the blue. You were both leaning against the kitchen island at Nancy and Jonathan’s apartment, distractedly observing your friends playing a drinking game you had both stepped out of. You were glad to allow your friends their fun, but mostly, to have a reason to get some alone time, just the two of you. A silent agreement, as always.

“You know I don’t believe in resolutions,” you answered before bringing a flute smudged by your red lipstick to your lips.

“Oh, come on, kitten, humor me for a second.”

You raised an eyebrow at him while he waited for your response with a cheeky smile. You heard Robin burst into laughter from the living room, but you were too focused on Steve’s loose strand of hair and the woody scent of his new cologne to acknowledge it.

“Fine,” you obliged him. “Well, I resolve to quit drinking coffee, exercise more, and buy a new and well-functioning car.”

“You’re full of shit,” Steve laughed. “Like you’re ever going to get rid of Gina.”

“Of course I’m not getting rid of Gina, she’s my ride-or-die,” you said, referring to your personified old car.

“Yeah, emphasis on ‘die’ – you're missing a rearview mirror in there.”

You nudged him playfully, briefly losing your balance but Steve helped steady you immediately, putting a hand on your hips that hovered there longer than necessary. You chuckled for good measure but couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your face.

Everyone knew you and Steve had a thing for each other. It had been that way since high school – lingering looks in the hallway between classes, overly tactile during a mundane conversation, pretending to forget something at the other’s house to have a reason to go there again… Everyone knew it, was used to it, and never mentioned anything about it – you and Steve included.

Nothing had ever happened because the timing was always off. If it wasn’t Steve who was dating someone, you were; then you moved away to go to college, and when you came back to Hawkins after graduating, Steve had just left for an internship in New York. Eventually, you grew tired of the never-ending “what-ifs” and made your peace knowing that Steve Harrington would always be more than just a friend but less than a lover. A fine line you both tiptoed in and out of too much over the past eight years.

“What about you?” you eventually asked Steve. “You’re corny as shit, you must have a lot of them resolutions in mind.”

“I only thought of a couple, and they’re not that corny.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Steve laughed again, running a hand through his hair as he reflected on what he’d say. You admired him while he did so. It was frustrating, still having that teenage crush on your longtime friend, not being able to let it go, not entirely at least. You sometimes wished you could be his friend the way Robin was to him, or Eddie was to you. It would make it all so much easier, so much less painful than this in two minds you were both stuck in, this blatant desire for more, this fear that it could all be ruined in seconds, poor decisions fragmenting the illusion of a blissful friendship.

“I thought about learning how to play the guitar.”

“Cliché,” you teased. “What else?”

You could see the turn the conversation had taken when Steve hesitated before talking – looked nervous, even.

“Moving out. Getting my own place.”

You stared at Steve, quiet. You couldn’t say you were surprised – he’d been roommates with Eddie since they both enrolled in community college a few years ago. Even after graduating and getting a job, they stayed that way, because it was simple; splitting the bills, having someone to talk to after a lonely day. But it could only work for so long. It was only a matter of time until one or the other got bored and needed a change of scenery. To you, it was no surprise Steve had that revelation first.

“You sound serious,” was the only comment you could express.

“Because I am,” Steve said. “I started looking at one-bedroom apartments to rent in the neighborhood.”

“Does Eddie know?” you asked.

Steve pursed his lips as he shook his head from left to right. You hummed and couldn’t help but look at the young man in question, with his curly hair tied back in a bun and his poor imitation of some football player his team had to guess the name of. You loved this friend group – you loved the dynamic, the hijinks, and the stability. You loved hanging out with Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan at Eddie and Steve's apartment. You loved everything about it and the thought of losing your bearings, of disrupting your habits, made you too sad for the 31st of December, five minutes away from another midnight of confetti, embraces, and promises.

“You’re the first person I told,” Steve eventually said, breaking the silence that had settled between you two. “I thought you could share some of that wisdom you have to advise me.”

You snorted, lazily knocking your shoulder against his arm. “You buttering up to me, Harrington?”

“Only if it’s working.”

You got lost in his beautiful brown eyes, aware of the subtlest things, like his pinky finger brushing your hand timidly, the mint toothpaste on his breath, or how perfectly he wore the sweater you gifted him. It felt so right, standing close to him and toying with the possibility of the unknown. It always did with Steve.

“Okay guys, it’s officially one minute away from midnight, gather ‘round!!” Nancy exclaimed, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention.

Reluctantly, you left the little bubble of peace and happiness you had created in the kitchen, Steve following closely behind. As you started counting down from ten, surrounded by all your closest and dearest friends, you only had eyes for Steve.

It had become a habit since you first celebrated New Year’s Eve with him years ago – you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d kiss you at midnight. It was a fantasy you’d entertained ever since you were eighteen, the final and first thought of each year that passed without ever becoming real. Each year, naively, you thought it’d be different. But each year, it was the same old song all over again.

As the clock struck midnight and cheers erupted among the friend group, you hugged everyone. You saved the best ‘til last, heart beating frantically as Steve wrapped his arms around you. You buried your face in his neck, getting drunk on his cologne – pathetic, disillusioned.

“Happy New Year, kitten,” Steve whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek – soft, tender, and terribly platonic, as usual.

“Happy New Year, Harrington,” you kissed his cheek in return, the trace of your lipstick leaving a mark on his skin like a temporary tattoo.

And you were too busy thinking about the undone to notice that this year, Steve held you in his arms a little longer than usual.

🌹🌹🌹

“Bro-lentine’s Day?”

“Is that one of those boys band they keep talking about on the radio?"

You held back a laugh at Steve’s question and Eddie’s comment regarding the odd suggestion Robin had just made. The four of you were waiting in line at a Wendy's drive-thru in Steve’s car, the crescent moon shining its feeble light in the night sky above.

“Why would you even think about spending Valentine’s Day with your loser single friends when you have a beautiful girlfriend you could shower with gifts?” Eddie asked, to which Steve, behind the wheel, concurred immediately.

“I mean, I obviously love you guys, but I mostly suggest that because Vickie’s working a night shift on the 14th and I figured it’d be nice to hang out together, the four of us, instead of just… I don’t know, being alone?” Robin admitted.

“Oh, so we’re your stand-ins?” Eddie exclaimed, feigning offense under your amused attention. “Classy, Buckley.”

“That sounds a hell of a lot like a pity party, Rob,” Steve pointed out.

You laughed along as Robin kept putting her foot in her mouth. It was often like that – Robin and Eddie gently bickering in the back seats while you exchanged knowing looks with Steve, in your designated seat at the front of the car.

The only difference was this time, when Steve searched for your eyes to have a silent laugh with you, you avoided his gaze, pretending to look in the distance, thinking about something you needed to say to him but couldn’t find the courage to.

“Okay, fine,” Eddie eventually yielded. “Let’s do this thing. But I have one condition – we go to Steve’s new apartment.”

“Excellent idea!” Robin exclaimed, enthusiastic.

“I told you guys, I’m not done unboxing my stuff, the place is a mess,” Steve argued as he started the ignition to move forward.

Robin rolled her eyes. “You say that like you have a thousand boxes.”

“It's his plethora of hair products - they take up a lot of room,” Eddie teased, which made Robin snort.

“You’re both hilarious, seriously, I can’t stop laughing,” Steve said with a straight face.

“So, it’s a deal,” Eddie said. “Bro-lentine’s Day at Steve’s new place – no, I’m sorry Rob, you’ll have to find another name, I hate how it sounds when it comes out of my mouth.”

“What do you think, babes?”

You only focused back on the conversation when Robin called your name, looking away from the constellations in the sky.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m sorry babes but count me out of this one,” you said with a sorry smile.

Robin laughed, thinking you were probably messing with her. Steve was driving slowly now that the line ahead finally seemed to clear.

“Right, because you have something better to do on Valentine’s Day, of course,” Robin joked while Eddie chuckled.

You tried not to take offense because you knew it was some innocent banter, but it didn’t stop you from frowning.

“Actually, yes, I do,” you contradicted. “I have a date that day.”

The car braked abruptly, causing a blast of horns from the vehicle behind and surprised yelps from the back seats.

“What the fuck, Harrington??” Eddie ranted. “That’s why I keep telling you you’re a shit driver, seriously, how did you manage to get your license, man?"

“Sorry, I got… distracted for a sec’,” Steve apologized.

You couldn’t bear to look Steve in the eye, so you toyed with the bracelets around your wrists and stared at your shoes, waiting for your friends’ reaction to the news.

“Is it someone we know?” Robin asked bluntly. “It’s the cute guy from the music shop at the mall, isn’t it? I knew he had a crush on you, you’re the only one who got Like a Prayer for half price.”

“It was… actually a twenty-percent discount,” you corrected, even though none of your friends cared about that information.

“Who even asks someone out on Valentine’s Day?” Eddie asked himself out loud. “We have three hundred and sixty-five days a year, why choose this nightmare of a commercialized day deliberately?”

“I think it’s cute,” Robin shrugged.

You attempted a smile, but it was nowhere near convincing. Robin and Eddie weren’t even paying attention to you anymore, discussing with each other the pros and cons of a first date on the 14th of February. You gathered the courage to look at Steve, decipher his expression. He might’ve been trying to get your attention a moment ago, but now, he was just staring in front of him, both hands firmly holding the lower part of the wheel.

“So, you’re really going to abandon me with these two idiots, huh?”

Your laugh at Steve’s rhetorical question was a mix of amusement and relief. If there was one thing that meant more than anything to you, it was the harmony between you two. You knew that as soon as you or Steve dated someone, that harmony was threatened. It had happened before. It was a fatality.

“You’ll be just fine,” you assured softly. “It’s just one night.”

Steve chuckled, finally making it to the pickup window. “Yeah, you’re right. Just one night. Easy-peasy.”

At that moment, you couldn’t have imagined that on the 14th of February, you’d find yourself knocking on Steve’s door at ten in the evening, makeup ruined by your disappointed tears, holding tight to your coat and shame in the cold evening air.

When Steve opened the door and saw you standing before him, he blinked at the unexpected sight of you sniffing and shivering.

“What are you doing here, kitten? Is everything okay?”

As soon as you heard Steve’s voice and the concern he displayed, it was out of your control – another tear rolled down your cheek.

“Oh no. Come here.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice- when Steve opened his arms at you, you dived in, letting him hug you tight, accepting his warmth and empathy.

“Dude stood you up?” Steve asked, voice muffled as his face was buried in your hair.

“Worse,” you said. “He was there.”

Steve huffed, because it could’ve been a funny anecdote if not for the dried mascara that ran under your eyes.

“So, we’re not going to the music shop again, huh?”

“I never said it was the guy from the music shop,” you pointed out.

“You never denied it either.”

You snorted and you felt Steve smile against your head. He was the first to part from your embrace, but you were under the impression he could’ve stayed like that much longer.

“What’s taking so long, dingus?” Robin shouted from the living room. “You need help with the pizzas?”

“It’s not the pizzas,” Steve retorted as you stepped inside the apartment.

Both Robin and Eddie turned around on the couch and looked equally surprised to see you there.

“Is it okay if I crash Bro-lentine’s Day?” you asked sheepishly.

“We’re not calling it that!” Eddie said in a singsong.

“You’re more than welcome to crash Bro-lentine’s Day, babes,” Robin told you while wrapping her arm around your shoulders as you sat next to her.

“I give up,” Eddie sighed before heading for the kitchen.

“What did the loser do to get you like that?” Robin inquired, touching your face where the tears had dried.

“Honestly, he wasn’t even that bad,” you explained. “He just… wasn’t what I expected. I guess I’m tired of getting my hopes up and ending up disappointed every time.” You paused, reflecting on that state of mind. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid,” Robin contradicted with a sympathetic smile. “It’s Valentine’s Day, anyone would’ve expected a perfect date.”

“Hence why you don’t date on that doomed day.”

“Can’t you just let it go already, Eddie??”

You smiled softly at your friends’ innocent quarrel, and you realized in the end, there were no other people you’d rather spend the day of love and romance with.

So, you settled comfortably on the couch in Steve’s new apartment, surrounded by dozens of wrapped boxes and your closest friends with a glass of wine and a cheesy movie to watch, sharing the details of your date with them.

“Well, his loss, darling, not yours,” Eddie said in conclusion to your story.

“Definitely,” Robin nodded.

You smiled lightly and you thought maybe, just maybe, they were right.

“Why are you smiling like that, Harrington?” Eddie then asked.

“Hmm? Oh, no reason,” Steve answered casually before finding a tiny spot between you and Robin on the couch.

🎉🎉🎉

There was nothing more frustrating than being late to meet your friends and having your car’s engine make that hideous sputtering sound as you kept putting the key in the ignition without it ever starting.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you echoed in sync with the car’s noises.

“I see Gina’s being cranky today.”

You glared at Steve, sitting in the passenger seat and enjoying himself a little too much.

“It’s too hot outside, she doesn’t like it when it’s too hot,” you explained to yourself more than Steve.

“It’s the 4th of July, kitten. It’s always hot on the 4th of July.”

“Thank you so much for this enlightening forecast, Harrington, have you ever considered a career in meteorology?”

You bit your lip when you realized how harsh your comeback had sounded. You slowly turned your head to lay regretful eyes on your friend.

“Sorry,” you winced.

“You’re good. I think I know why Gina’s cranky today – she takes from her owner.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother denying it.

The sun was starting to set in a sky adorned with pink and orange hues only summer could take credit for. The air was hot, crickets chirping and bees buzzing while the whole town was already busying itself in preparation for the incoming festivities.

For the past six years, on Independence Day, you’ve met all your friends by the lake on the outskirts of Hawkins to have a barbecue with beers and watch the fireworks. It was a tradition you all honored religiously each Fourth of July.

Except this year, Robin was celebrating with Vickie’s family, Eddie was working at the music camp, which meant you were spending the evening with Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve, a group hangout that looked an awful lot like a double date, and it worked yourself up into quite a state.

“Did you get the Buds?” you asked Steve as the ignition still wouldn’t start.

“Packs in the trunk,” Steve answered straight off.

“And the blankets?”

“In the backseat.”

“The radio for the music?”

“Nance’s taking care of it.”

You fell back in your seat after failing one too many times to start the car and just closed your eyes, sighing heavily. You wiped your hands on your shorts, the summer heat getting the best of you, chest heaving and patience hanging by a thread.

“We can take my car tonight, maybe Gina needs the rest,” Steve suggested. It irritated you even more.

“We always take your car, tonight’s the one night a year we take mine,” you argued, putting the keys in the ignition again.

“We’ll take yours another time, then, it’s no big deal.”

“No,” you just said.

Without a heads-up, you got out of the vehicle. Steve followed you as you opened the hood to check the engine. You were rough in your endeavor, hair falling out on your face and hands quickly stained with oil.

“Why are you being so stubborn today?” Steve asked you, tone cutting sharp like a knife.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are! You can tell as much as I can your car’s not going anywhere tonight, mine’s parked right behind and ready to go, so why are we losing time for nothing?”

“She’s just being picky right now but I’m getting there. She needs a little boost and she’s good to go,” you insisted, wiping the back of your hand on your forehead before realizing it’d smudge the oil.

“Yeah, sure, at this rate, she’ll be good to go for Thanksgiving,” Steve said ironically.

You shut the hood close abruptly, shooting daggers at Steve as he stood in front of you with his arms crossed. He looked just as irritated as you did.

“You’re being an asshole,” you stated matter-of-factly.

Steve snickered, eyebrows raising like he couldn’t believe what he just heard.

“Oh, I’m the asshole in this situation? You’re a fine one to talk!”

“Are you seriously turning the tables on me right now?!”

“I’m not, you’re clearly in a mood today and you’re taking it out on me! Last I heard, I’m not a punching bag!”

Your face twisted into a scowl because Steve annoyed you a great deal, but mostly because he was right. You were far from being good company today, and today was meant to be fun, chill, eventful. You could blame it all on Gina, but you knew that was just the tip of the iceberg.

“I’m just saying I’m going to get the car started just fine, all I need is a few minutes to figure it out. And we’re already late anyway, they won’t hate us for the extra ten minutes,” you said as you opened the hood again.

“This is not about the car and we both know it,” Steve stated, sure of himself. Of course, he was – he knew you like the back of his hand.

You closed the hood as soon as you opened it, walking closer to Steve to face him properly.

“Maybe you should take it easy if you want her to work, you know,” Steve remarked.

“Why don’t you just say what’s on my mind, Steve? Since you apparently know it better than I do,” you hit him with your words.

“But that’s just the thing! I don’t!” Steve exclaimed, his voice raising an octave. “I don’t know what’s going on with you right now and you won’t tell me a goddamn thing!”

“You already know what’s going on with me, I made it perfectly clear – I want my fucking car to start so we can go and meet our friends, as we do every year!”

“And I made it perfectly clear that we can take my car, so why are we still arguing about this??”

“Because it’s the way things are supposed to be!!”

The silence that followed that revelation felt intrusive. You couldn’t wait for Steve to tell you off, to argue with you some more, but instead, he didn’t say another word and just stared at you, dumbfounded. It allowed you to reflect on your behavior of the past ten minutes and you immediately dropped your eyes to look at your shoes, ashamed.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked you then, voice softer.

You sighed and looked in the distance, avoiding his gaze.

“It’s the tradition. On the 4th of July, you come to my place to help me pack everything, we take my car to pick up Eddie and Robin on the way to the lake, we meet Nance and Jonathan there, then, you and Eddie set the barbecue while Jonathan and I take care of the music, and Nance and Robin lay the blankets to make us cozy. And we eat and drink until they shoot the fireworks from downtown – it’s how the day is supposed to go.”

“Right, and it’s how it’s going to go today,” Steve assured, confused.

“No, it’s not. Rob and Eddie are not there this year, and because of Gina, we’re late and missing out on the sunset.” You paused, taking a breath. “It’s what I look forward to the most. Watching the sunset on the lake with you guys. All of you.”

Steve relaxed his shoulders and breathed out like he finally made sense of the underlying problem. He stepped closer to you and his hand cupped your face, willing you to look him in the eyes.

“Okay, I’m going to take a wild guess and assume it has something to do with Nancy and Jonathan talking about moving to Chicago next year for Nancy’s job,” Steve said. “Am I boiling or getting colder?”

The rhetorical question elicited a weak smile on your lips.

“I know Chicago’s not that far from Hawkins, but… I like the way things are right now, you know?” you explained while Steve listened, nodding. “I like that we can hang out whenever we want to, show up unannounced at each other’s place, and whatnot.”

“You can still do that if they move to Chicago. It’ll just take you more than three hours to get there,” he teased you.

Steve did it – he made you laugh. “I’m not so sure Gina would survive the trip.”

“I’ll let you borrow my car, then,” Steve whispered, and even though you were bantering, it sounded like a promise.

You chuckled, the knot in your stomach coming undone as Steve put his thumb to your forehead, stroking where you had wiped the oil stain earlier.

“You look like shit,” he told you unceremoniously.

“And you’re a shitty friend,” you bit back, making you both smile.

Friend. The denomination never felt strong enough to define what you and Steve meant to one another. Yet, it was the only one you used, the only one that brought you comfort, especially in those blurry moments that kept you wondering why that boy had always been so sweet and kind to you, even when you felt undeserving.

You jumped at the sound of a car honking from the street, bringing you back to reality as you and Steve turned your heads to see what happened. You felt amused, and somehow relieved when you saw Nancy popping her head out the passenger window of Jonathan’s car like a beautifully staged interruption.

“Oh my God, you guys are late too?” Nancy shouted at them. “I told Jonathan to go over the speed limit, and as you can imagine, he was not happy about it.”

Steve laughed, and you followed suit because it was almost ridiculous, how perfect the situation had turned out. Sure, things felt different this year, with winds of change impending, and the future of your friend group unclear. But at least, you were all on the same page.

“While we’re here, get in the car with us!” Nancy offered, gesturing for you to come closer. “Maybe we can still catch the sunset.”

You exchanged an amused look with Steve, silently agreeing that your uncooperative car and your latest conversation would remain a secret you’d share only between you. Your friends didn’t need to know the reason why you were late.

So, you and Steve hurried to put everything in Jonathan’s car, climbed in the backseat, and made it to the lake just in time to admire the remnant of sunset and put everything into place to wait for the fireworks.

And as you put a blanket over your and Nancy’s shoulders, the fire crackling in the quiet of the evening around you, you couldn’t help but search for Steve’s eyes. He was already looking at you, sitting across the fire next to Jonathan. You smiled when you realized, and he winked at you, playful, secretive.

Maybe you were lying to yourself, in the end. Maybe you didn’t mean it when you said you liked things the way they were. Maybe there was one thing you wouldn’t mind changing, you thought as you looked away from Steve to look up at the fireworks now erupting in the sky above.

🎃🎃🎃

“I’m not sure I get it, Robin – who are you dressed as?”

“Are you seriously asking me that question, Nance? Marty McFly? Don’t tell me you still haven’t watched Back to the Future!”

“I didn’t have time.”

“In five years, you didn’t have time to watch a two-hour movie?”

“I work a lot, okay?!”

You were only half-listening to Robin and Nancy’s bickering as you finished getting ready for the Halloween party that your high school classmate Tina and her best friend Vicki Carmichael threw every year.

Usually, on the 31st of October, you would just crash at Steve and Eddie’s former apartment with the group, stuffing your face with popcorn and watching horror movies. But this year, the boys didn’t live at that apartment anymore and it was the last Halloween you’d all spend together in Hawkins before Jonathan and Nancy moved to Chicago next January. You all agreed it called for a memorable celebration, hence why you were now getting ready with the girls at your place.

“So, you mean to tell me you haven’t had time to watch Back to the Future, but you had it to watch all three Star Wars movies, judging on your costume?” Robin asked while Nancy grunted in frustration.

“I told you last week, me and Jonathan are wearing couple’s costumes – he’s Han Solo and I’m Princess Leia, obviously,” she explained while pointing at her long white dress and peculiar hairstyle.

“Couple’s costumes,” Robin repeated. “Kids these days, they’re just talking nonsense.”

“It’s romantic and fun, you’re just jealous you didn’t think about it for you and Vickie,” Nancy retorted as you were starting to think you were in the middle of playground taunts.

“Oh yeah, I should’ve asked Vickie to dress as Doc, it would’ve been crazy romantic,” Robin sassed.

Once the heels were at your feet, you turned around on your chair to stare at your friends.

“You two realize how stupid your fight is, right?” you chipped in.

“We’re not fighting,” Robin and Nancy said in unison.

You rolled your eyes and turned back around to face your vanity and finish your makeup, but it was too late – you had involuntarily drawn the attention to you.

“And who are you dressing as, hot stuff?” Nancy cooed while smirking at your reflection in the mirror.

You hummed the Dirty Dancing theme song to answer her question, and she nodded approvingly, taking in your pink dress and silver heels.

“I love it,” Nancy smiled.

“Thanks,” you said as you stood up. “And you two look equally great, so stop biting each other’s heads off.”

“So, if you’re Jennifer Grey, does it mean Steve’s dressing as Patrick Swayze? I could see him pulling that off.”

Robin’s question took you aback for it came out of nowhere. You gaped at her, face warm and thoughts racing.

“Hmm, no, he’s not. That’d… be a great couple’s costume, for sure. But we’re not a couple, so…” you stammered, awfully self-conscious.

“Well, yeah, but you might as well be.”

“Robin,” Nancy reprimanded her with warning eyes.

“What??” Robin exclaimed while you watched, confused. “It’s not like she doesn’t know what I mean, it’s been going on for years, this… whatever this is. And honestly, we’re all tired of pretending like we can’t see it.”

Nancy blushed, embarrassment written all over her face as she rubbed a hand over it.

“I don’t… understand,” you admitted, tugging at the hems of your dress to anchor yourself in the moment.

“There’s nothing to understand, babes,” Nancy said softly. “Robin was just joking. Right, Rob?”

Nancy was now glaring at Robin, who had no option but to concur. It felt like you were missing something there, and you didn’t like it. Were your friends talking behind your back? Were they annoyed at your relationship with Steve? Annoyed at the ambiguity, the unsaid, the attraction? Was it all that obvious as of late?

“I’m sorry, guys,” Robin said with a sigh. “I had a fight with Vickie earlier today and it messed me up a little bit.”

“Oh, babes,” Nancy softened, hugging Robin from the side.

“I know that’s no excuse for being a jerk,” Robin winced in your direction.

“You’re all right,” you said with a sympathetic smile, and both Robin and Nancy seemed relieved.

The three of you talked Robin through her problem until it was time to meet the guys outside. Nancy was the first to exit the apartment, but Robin lingered by the front door, hand hovering hesitantly above the handle. Eventually, she made up her mind and turned over to face you.

“I just want you to know that I’m really sorry for earlier,” Robin told you.

“It’s okay, Rob, I get it. You were upset about your fight with Vickie and said stuff you didn’t mean. It’s fine, it happens to all of us,” you said, wondering why Robin had felt the need to bounce back on that.

“No, but see, that’s the thing – I did mean it,” she contradicted. “I just didn’t say it like I should’ve.”

“And how should you say it?” you asked with a frown.

Robin looked uncertain now, fidgeting where she stood. You imagined that if Nancy were still in the room with you two, she’d probably give Robin an earful.

“When I said that we’re all tired of pretending like we can’t see what there is between you and Steve, I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” she elaborated under your undivided attention. “It’s just… We’re your friends, and you know, as friends, we want what’s best for each other, I’m sure you feel that way about us too –“

“Robin, cut to the chase, please,” you interjected before she could lose herself in her explanation.

“We just think if you two admitted what you’re both obviously feeling for each other… You could be very happy together. And the rest of us would be too because damn, we’ve watched it happen since high school and it’s about time one of you does something about it, babes.”

You stared at the door behind Robin, wishing to run away from this conversation that was too much for you to handle. It was the first time one of your friends confronted you on the matter, upfront, and you had no idea how to react.

“I’m not expecting you to say anything, don’t worry,” Robin added. “I just wanted you to know what everyone else is thinking. Do what you want with that information.”

You opened your mouth to respond but you heard the distinctive sound of Eddie’s van parking on the street, your sign that it was time to go and end this conversation for good. You rushed to the door, opening it before Robin could and hurtling down the stairs to some extent on your heels. Once you were outside, you breathed in slowly, calming down and processing what one of your best friends had just confided to you.

You and Robin met Nancy on the curb as Eddie slid the van’s side door open to let you in the backseats.

“Evening, ladies,” Eddie greeted.

“Wow, you’re Elton!” Nancy exclaimed after studying Eddie’s costume, a white ensemble with feathers and glitter that was the singer’s signature.

“You could get that but not mine?!” Robin exclaimed, almost offended.

“Move on, Rob, and let’s have fun tonight,” Nancy teased her while sitting near Jonathan, dressed in the easily identifiable Han Solo outfit.

Robin took the passenger seat next to Eddie, leaving you with no choice but to sit next to Steve at the back of the van. Of course. Almost like it had been on purpose, you thought to yourself.

You settled next to him and you were almost insecure, something you’d never felt around him. You resented Robin for not knowing best, and not keeping her mouth shut.

“Hey, kitten,” Steve welcomed you as you smoothed the edges of your dress.

“Hey, Harrington,” you said in return, attempting to smile at him.

You studied his costume as he studied yours. Aviator sunglasses on his head, green jumpsuit, sleeves rolled back under his elbows – Maverick from Top Gun. You'd gushed over the character when the movie came out, and you wondered if it happened to be a funny coincidence or if Steve had picked that costume on purpose.

“Baby,” Steve suddenly said.

“What?” you choked out with widened eyes.

Steve frowned. “Your costume,” he clarified. “Baby from Dirty Dancing, right?”

You processed the information and chuckled awkwardly, feeling stupid. You let Robin get in your head and you hated it.

“Right,” you breathed out as Eddie drove away.

Something passed in Steve’s eyes, and you were not sure what it was. Hesitation, desire, resignation… You watched and waited, fingers laced on your lap, heartbeat echoing in your ears.

“You look… very nice,” Steve told you in a hushed voice.

You knew neither Nancy nor Jonathan could’ve heard it – they were engaged in a vivid conversation with Robin and Eddie in the front of the car. It was an intimate declaration, meant for you and you only.

Your lips parted subtly, but Steve’s eyes caught it regardless. It did not soothe the rate of your beating heart.

“Thanks,” you croaked it, throat tight. “You’re not too bad yourself."

Steve smiled briefly, then did the strangest thing. He leaned in, his face awfully close to yours, and you thought; this was it. He was going to kiss you. Right then, right there, in the back of Eddie’s van dressed as the guy from Top Gun on the way to a Halloween party.

And as much as you wanted him to kiss you, it wasn’t how you wanted him to do it. Not the place, not the time. Maybe Steve realized it too because he moved away as quickly as he had gotten closer to you, clearing his throat and watching out the window like nothing happened.

The party at Tina’s villa was loud, messy, and packed with former classmates – some you were glad to run into, others you made a strong case of avoiding. You had a nice chat with your high school sweetheart, even though you could feel Steve’s eyes on you the whole time. When you couldn’t bear the weight of his yearning gaze, you took a sip of that rum punch Vicki Carmichael had made – a few times.

You fled to the bathroom around eleven to freshen up and have some alone time. You were reasonably drunk, but still conscious enough to notice someone was already in the room when you barged into it.

“Oh, so sorry, I didn’t know someone was in there –”

You cut the apology short when you recognized the person’s reflection staring at you in the mirror.

“Becky, hi,” you said, surprised.

The girl greeted you back, the sound of your name imperceptible amid the party people shouting in the hallway. Now, you were reasonably drunk and very uncomfortable.

Becky was the last girl Steve had dated. They had been together for two years and seemed happy until Becky broke up with Steve overnight. Everyone assumed she’d probably met someone else, but you always felt like that was too simple and there was another more plausible explanation.

“You okay?” Becky asked you.

“Y – yeah, I just needed to cool off,” you mumbled.

You assumed Becky would urge you to clear off and leave her be, but instead, she stepped aside to give you some space in front of the sink.

You closed the door behind you and stood in front of the mirror, silently watching Becky perfect the mascara on her lashes. You quickly gathered she was dressed as Madonna in the Material Girl music video.

“It’s… been a while,” you said to break that awful silence. “What are you up to these days?”

“Small talk, huh? I thought we were way past that.”

You chuckled, ill at ease and too drunk to have a proper conversation. Out of all the girls Steve had dated, Becky was the one who unsettled you the most. You never knew what to expect of her.

“How’s Stevie?” Becky then asked before reapplying some lipstick.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was Becky's inquiry, but something turned your stomach. You always hated it when she called Steve that name. It reminded you of a jealous version of yourself you’d rather leave in the past.

“He’s good,” you said casually, no matter your inner turmoil. “You know. Same old, same old.”

Becky’s lips turned into the semblance of a smile.

“I take it you two still aren’t together.”

You felt your heart drop at that comment. What did she mean, “still”? And what was up with everyone and their insights regarding your relationship with Steve?

“It sounded a lot less petty in my head, I promise,” Becky said when you stayed silent.

“It’s not that,” you replied. “I’m just… surprised you would say that.”

Becky sighed and turned around to face you. It looked like she was about to get a lot of things off her chest, and you were not sober enough for that.

“You know why I broke up with Steve?” Becky asked you, and she obviously wasn’t waiting for an answer. “Why all the girls he dates eventually break things off with him?”

You blinked. You didn’t want Steve’s ex-girlfriend to share that information with you. You had absolutely no desire to detain such knowledge. Yet, you shook your head, permitting Becky to say what she really thought, too curious to pretend you didn’t care.

“Because it’s painfully obvious he’s in love with you and we’re just here passing time until he finally has the balls to tell you.”

In love. You had thought about it all with Steve – he thinks I’m pretty; he’s attracted to me; he likes me more than a friend. But never in your wildest dreams had you dared fantasize about these powerful little words.

He’s in love with you, Becky’s voice repeated like a broken record on a loop in your mind. Taunting, hopeful, too good to be true.

You found yourself sitting on the bathtub’s edge, both arms at your side, speechless. Becky leaned against the wall across from you and chuckled like she'd just shared the funniest story.

“Don’t tell me this is shocking news.”

“I…” you started without finishing your thought. You were at a loss for words and your head started spinning, the fateful sentence seeping into your mind faster than the liquor in your system.

“Look, obviously, it wasn’t my place to tell, but you know, despite everything, I always liked you,” Becky confessed. “You were always nice to me, even though I could tell it was not easy for you.”

You lowered your eyes, apologetic. It was true – you had always been nice to Becky. After all, it wasn’t the girl’s fault if you had feelings you’d never dare confess to your best friend.

“That’s why I’m telling you,” Becky resumed. “I’m trying to help you two out. This whole faint-hearted act was probably cute when you were sixteen, but you’re adults now. Are you waiting for him to get married and start a family with someone else to tell him how you feel?”

The mere thought made your heart ache. You didn’t want to picture Steve married to someone else. It made you nauseous.

“Sorry, that was harsh,” Becky apologized.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked her in a whisper, feeling like your head was about to explode. “Why are you telling this to me and not him?”

Becky stared at you like you’d just said the most nonsensical thing.

“Because he’s an idiot and a coward. If you’re waiting for him to make a move, you’ll wait a long time, honey.”

You spaced out for a moment, and when you returned to your senses, Becky was gone, leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts in that bathroom.

Becky was right. Steve was an idiot and a coward. The inebriation clouded all your good judgments, so you got to your feet and walked out of the bathroom to look for Steve. After everything that happened tonight, you were confused, upset, and even angry.

You found him outside by the pool, joking around with some guys from his old swim team in high school. You marched to him, bold and determined, and he didn’t notice you right away, so you hooked your fingers to the fabric around his arm and dragged him behind you. You ignored the guys whistling at you both or Steve protesting and asking what had gotten into you until you walked into an empty room on the side of the villa and closed the patio door behind you.

“Okay, what the hell was that about??” Steve exclaimed, his voice loud in the quiet of the room, away from the party noises and the music. “Have you lost your shit??”

“You’re an idiot,” you told him in an accusing tone.

“Tell me about it,” Steve sassed you.

“And a coward!”

“Oh, so you have a whole list, huh?”

“That’s what Becky said.”

Steve looked at you in silence, processing what you just said.

“Of course, you talked to Becky….” he sighed. “Let me guess – she said I stole her INXS tape? She needs to let it go, she clearly lost it, she can’t keep blaming me for –“

“I don’t want you to get married, Steve,” you interrupted him, blurting out what you had been obsessing about for the last ten minutes.

Steve froze and looked at you like you were insane. And you might just be, you realized. You took a step back, dizzy and embarrassed.

“I… was not planning on getting married any time soon. Where is that coming from?” Steve asked you, stepping toward you.

You bit your tongue, holding from saying another stupidity you’d immediately regret. Suddenly, your choice to confront Steve and isolate yourselves in a bedroom didn’t look like the brilliant plan it seemed to be five minutes ago.

“Forget it, I’m drunk, and I don’t know what I’m saying,” you stammered, head low as you walked toward the door.

“Hey,” Steve brought you short by taking your hand before you had the chance to leave. His touch was tender, your hand fit perfectly in his, and you understood what Becky meant when she said "still not together".

“Talk to me,” Steve urged, lacing his fingers with yours. It was unbearable, how natural it felt. “You used to tell me everything, and now, I have no idea what’s up with you anymore.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, wishing you could go back in time and stop yourself from putting the two of you in this awful situation.

“Come on, kitten, we’re friends, you can tell me anything.”

Friends. You loathed the word that normally comforted you. You couldn’t stand to hear it.

He’s in love with you. How could he say you were friends when he was the one you called first when your car broke down, when he’d snuck out of college to comfort you after you got dumped by your ex-boyfriend, when he drove you across the country to see your sick grandfather for the last time? How did he have the audacity to minimize what you meant to each other after taking such a significant place in your heart for years and years?

“We’re not friends,” you mumbled.

You looked at him and thought you could see heartbreak in his eyes. You’d hurt him. You’d hurt him badly.

“We’re not?” he asked, his voice breaking in the inflection.

You held your breath as Steve questioned you with glistening eyes. He didn’t understand what you were trying to tell him, and it was killing you.

“You know what I mean,” you breathed out, unable to say the actual words.

He’s in love with you. It was so simple. Why couldn’t he just admit it?

You’re in love with him too, why can’t you say it? you admitted to yourself.

Because no, it wasn’t that simple. Steve wasn’t the only coward in this situation. After all these years, it was so scary to admit, even more to say out loud. How could you expect him to say it when you were terrified of doing it yourself?

Eventually, Steve let go of your hand, an almost insignificant gesture that shattered your heart into a million pieces.

“Actually… No. I don’t know what you mean,” he said, defeated, before leaving the room.

You did it. You ruined everything, you thought as you sat on the floor and cried your heartbreak away.

🎁🎁🎁

It was supposed to be the merriest day of the year, with children's laughter filling the air and countless presents to unwrap. Yet, your heart was not in it, and you had to hold back tears during dinner that night at your parents’ house.

You hadn’t talked to or heard from Steve in almost two months, and it was officially the longest you’d spent without seeing each other. The thought was excruciating. He was your best friend in the entire world, you were head over heels in love with him, and the absence of him was like gasping for air on the verge of drowning.

But today was a merry day. Today was all about spending time together, eating a nice homemade meal, and reuniting. So, you played the part – you ate dinner, played board games with your cousins, and chatted with your uncles and aunts. You did what you were expected to do, and nothing more.

When you returned to your place, to your sad and lonely apartment, you sat down on the floor, still in your red party dress, back to your couch with a glass of wine, and flipped through a photo album Nancy and Jonathan had given you for your twenty-fifth birthday.

It was a recollection of happy times Jonathan had captured with his camera throughout the years – from graduating high school to renting your first crappy apartment, taking your first trip to New York with the group, and celebrating various occasions with them.

You took the last photo from the album, holding it between your fingers to get a closer look. It was a picture of you and Steve on New Year’s Eve the year before. You were posing for the camera, smiling from ear to ear. You were looking at the lens, but Steve only had eyes for you, holding you in his arms with rosy cheeks. When you looked at it like that, in retrospect and from another’s perspective, it seemed so evident that the guy in the picture loved the girl posing next to him.

You were fully crying now, blurry eyes and stuffy nose in contradiction with the holiday spirit. You were about to put the picture away in the album when something in the back of it caught your eye.

There was a note in the handwriting you would recognize anywhere at any given time – Steve’s. Your heart skipped a beat. It had gone unnoticed the first time you’d looked through the album at your birthday party and none of your friends had mentioned a thing about it. You started to look at a handful of pictures to see if others had something hidden on the other side, but they were all blank. All except for one.

You took a deep breath, pondering. Maybe Nancy and Jonathan were unaware of it, but Steve not saying anything didn’t make sense. This note had been there, forgotten in an album gathering dust in your bookcase, for months, and it could’ve gone on for years had you not felt nostalgic on that specific day.

You wondered if you should read it or pretend you’d never seen it. It was only a few words; they were probably some meaningless inside jokes or more personal birthday wishes. But they could also be something more, much more.

You knew you couldn’t live with the uncertainty, so you gathered your courage and read.

Happy birthday, kitten! Don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but I want you to know you’re my favorite person in the entire world, and I love you. Yours always, Steve PS: stop being a sourpuss just ‘cause you turned 25

It had been there. Right there, under your nose, all along. Yours always.

Before you could think it through, your coat was around your shoulders and you were behind the wheel, ready to drive to Steve’s place and tell him how you felt. Screw the stability and the uncertainty – you loved the boy too and you needed to tell him tonight.

It was past midnight, the air was cold and the streetlights reflected in the puddles on the pavement as you drove a little too fast toward Steve’s building. Your heart was racing in your chest, anticipation mingling with excitement while you rehearsed what you’d say in your head.

You were going to confess your true feelings to Steve. Nothing could scare you anymore.

Except, perhaps, the ominous sputtering sound your car made when you tried to restart at a traffic light.

“No, no, no, no, no, come on, not now!!” you begged desperately.

The ignition wouldn’t turn over, and you could’ve screamed at the sky. Was it some sort of cosmic sign preventing you from making the biggest mistake of your life?

You got out of the car to check the engine under the hood. When you opened it, it did something it’d never done before – it gave off fumes.

You coughed violently as you stepped away from the car, looking all around you and realizing you were alone on the street in the middle of the night with a kaput car and wasted opportunities.

“This is a nightmare,” you told yourself out loud. “This can’t be happening to me.”

Your eyes burned as you were about to cry again, disheartened and pathetic. Then, some headlights on the other side of the road caught your attention.

A maroon car stopped next to you and turned the ignition off. You held your breath, recognizing the vehicle instantly and wondering if the universe wouldn’t happen to be messing with you.

The driver exited the car and eyed yours up and down before chuckling.

“I had a feeling Gina wouldn’t make it through the year,” he said.

You laughed, the sound choked up in your throat at the improbability of the situation. You couldn’t believe Steve was there, rescuing you even without meaning to, always being there when you needed him to, the constant one in your life. As luck would have it, you thought.

“What are you doing here this late at night?” you asked him.

“Could ask you the same thing,” he remarked with a smile.

You returned his smile, nervously fixing your hair. The wind was rising, and the air was filled with change and expectations.

“I was… on my way to your place, actually,” you explained, somehow shyly. “I wanted to talk to you.”

A few seconds passed until Steve spoke again like he was processing the information. “That’s funny, I was on my way to your place too.”

You swallowed, unable to stop hoping. “You were?”

“Yeah… Of course, I was,” Steve shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, and I realized I never got a chance to give you your present because we weren't speaking to each other, so… Anyways, I can just give it to you now.”

“We’re literally in the middle of the road, Steve.”

He looked around at the empty and silent street for good measure. “Yeah, and it’s not like it’s rush hour right now, I think we’re good.”

You opened your mouth to retort but opted against saying anything else. It was your first interaction with him in weeks, it was out of the question to ruin it just to have the last word.

The young man got something from the backseat of his car and immediately handed it to you. You took it carefully, turning it over in your hand to try and figure out what was beneath the wrapping paper.

“I… don’t have your gift,” you admitted, crestfallen. “I mean, I did get you something, but I didn’t think to give it to you tonight.”

“It’s okay, kitten. Just open it.”

You complied, slowly unwrapping the paper with trembling fingers and shortness of breath as Steve observed quietly.

You were now looking at a book’s front cover, and it might’ve seemed unremarkable at first glance, but it was not some common paperback.

“First limited edition,” Steve explained, even though you already knew. “You talked about it at Eddie’s place a couple of months ago, that it was almost impossible to find today, and you’d love to have it. So, I went to every bookstore in town to ask if they knew where to get it, and one of them gave me their counterpart's number from England, they had to send it all the way here but… Yeah,” Steve concluded, face red and hands in his pocket. “I found it.”

You looked up from the book to lock eyes with Steve. He seemed expectant and abashed, almost anxious of your reaction.

“You went to all this trouble for me?” you asked in disbelief.

He pursed his lips and nodded as if it was that obvious.

“You’re well worth the trouble.”

All this time, you had expected blatant signs, big gestures, and declarations, when Steve had been telling you how he felt in his own way for years. It had always been there – in fleeting touches, longing stares, and understated actions.

“I read it,” you eventually confessed.

"The book?" Steve asked, puzzled.

“No," you laughed. "The note you wrote in my photo album. I read it tonight.”

You noticed the way Steve held his breath at that revelation. Suddenly, you no longer cared that you were standing in the middle of the road with your dead car by your side. Suddenly, all that mattered was the pretty boy standing before you and what you felt for him.

“It was corny, right?” Steve said with a nervous laugh. “I know you don’t like it when it’s corny but –“

“Can’t you just be serious for one minute, Harrington?” you cut him short with an amused eye roll. “I’m trying to tell you how I feel here.”

“I know,” Steve breathed out. “I’ve been trying to tell you how I feel for months now, but I never find the right words.”

In the elation of the moment, your words got a mind of their own, and you heard yourself saying: “Show me, then.”

Friends. A designation you held onto for the past eight years, a status that put things into perspective whenever Steve introduced a new girlfriend to the group, a word that freed you of your guilt when getting into relationships yourself, a term that helped you when you would yearn for something more, something you thought to be unrealistic and unreachable.

That word no longer held any power over you now that you were in Steve Harrington’s arms and he leaned in to seal his lips with yours into a long-awaited and overdue kiss, the promise of a cherished and beautiful future.

You'd envisioned the scene time and time again in your mind, but none of the imaginary scenarios your fantasies created could measure up to that kiss. It was sweet, yet demanding, like you were the air he needed to breathe. He kissed you like he loved - sincerely, tenderly, and intensely. You smiled against his mouth, and your heart melted when he did it too.

When you parted from him, lips swollen and eyelashes fluttering, you felt like everything was finally right and mourned the time you wasted being scared of changes.

“So… What now?” you whispered, getting a strand of hair out of Steve’s face to look at him better.

The boy held your gaze, enamored and enraptured like you’d never seen him before. You enjoyed it while it lasted because it was a momentary bliss until reality caught up.

“Well, first, we’re going to call a tow truck," Steve said as he entwined his fingers with yours. "And then, you’ll bid farewell to Gina,” he nodded toward the car.

Your heart tightened in your chest. You’d almost forgotten about your car. It was truly ironic, how you needed to say goodbye to your oldest partner while embracing a new beginning with your best friend.

“Can it wait until tomorrow?” you asked while batting your lashes at him.

“Hey, just because we’re going to make out a lot from now on doesn’t mean you get to do that,” Steve jokingly scolded you while gesturing at your face.

“Do what?” you asked, coy and amused.

Steve laughed and put his arm around your shoulders. “Come on, kitten, I’m taking you home.”

At first, it didn’t feel like much had changed between you and Steve. You were still teasing each other, spending time with the group before Nancy and Jonathan’s departure, and arguing about what car you should buy now that Gina was in a junkyard.

But things had changed for the better, and you realized it on New Year’s Eve when Steve kissed you at midnight, as he would for many new years to come.

❤️❤️❤️

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff

745 notes · View notes

hoshigray · 1 year ago

Text

𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 [& 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑴𝑬] 𝐔𝐏!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: It's bad enough you got a crush on your gym instructor, Toji; however, it gets worse when things become too close and personal for this relationship...But who says you shouldn't get a little praise for your hard work?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: personal trainer! Toji x fem! reader - explicit contents; minors DNI - unrequited/crushing » mutual pining - sex in a public space (gym locker room + showers) - shower sex - thigh riding - oral (m! + f! receiving) - ball massaging - face + throat-fucking - breast fondling + nipple play - against a wall + upstanding citizen + standing 69 positions - praise - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, doll, dollface, good girl, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside tho) - overstimulation - cameos: Haibara and Ino (gym manager and employee) - the reader accidentally walks into the men's locker room (they're a bit dumb, forgive them, lol) - mention of sweat spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k (i'm about to lose my mind, bro.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: mannnnnn, the way this draft has been collecting dust, it was supposed to be released on Dec!! ofc my first fic back would be for toji lmao. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and tysm for 4.7k y'all are so sweet ;;w;; and thank yeww @ramonathinks for beta-reading, mwah mwah

“That one was weak; do another three.”

“Gahh– …You’re such an asshole, Fushiguro.”

“Heh, like that’s anythin’ new. C’mon, let’s go!”

We’re counting down to the last weeks of the year, and so many people have already promised affirmations for themselves in the upcoming year. In terms of this year, you can’t say much. You’ve done your work, hung out with the same people since last year, and probably learned to spoil yourself more. Maybe another thing you can be proud of is that you crossed some TV series off your “get-to-watch” list, so go you!

Although, besides those minimal things, there is one change in your life that you’ve committed yourself to. One thing that you didn’t expect to be so in tune with throughout the past half of the year. It started as a forced challenge because your friend Miwa needed someone to motivate her to maintain her gym membership. What was once something you’d thought a one-time thing gradually became something you enjoy — something you felt proud doing!

Not only has your knowledge of your body and how to keep it in good shape improved over half a year, but your love for the community has grown more and more. The gym you go to feels like a second home, with many people you’ve gotten to know and befriend along your journey. Even the manager, Haibara Yu, practically treats you like a sibling after seeing you every other day. The same goes for the front desk associate, Ino, who is the goofiest goofball you’ve ever met (not to mention the best drinking buddy).

But – if you really had to pick – there is one person who has made this experience more enjoyable and worthwhile. “Hahhh!! There, I did them! Aren’t you supposed to be my spotter, not a shit-talker?”

“I’m doin’ my job, aren’t I?” Toji Fushiguro, your gym instructor for the past few months, has been a driving force in your physical journey. With his help, you’ve been disciplining yourself in and outside of the facility, maintaining a good diet, and keeping your body active in a balanced fashion. The gratitude you have for him supersedes all. But above all else, throughout the years, the two of you have gotten pretty close and know a good chunk about each other to call yourselves friends – at least, that’s what you’ve been doing. “Alright, that’s enough lifting for today; time for stretches.”

Aside from a friend, there is something else you refer to him as – something you’d rather die than admit out loud. Toji, your trainer, is your gym crush. Well, your crush in general.

Can you really blame yourself, though? Look at the man! When you first look at him, his physique alone is enough to keep you staring at him for hours and hours on end. Strong, bulky arms that look like they could pick up five treadmills in one sitting and with veins that decorate up to his forearm can effortlessly grab the attention of the normal eye. He’s wearing his black fitted tee, so tight that it was as if it was vacuum sealed to perfectly showcase the outline of his abdomen, ribs, and pectorals. And it doesn’t help from the back view either; you can’t count how many times you fell into a short trance from admiring his gorgeous back, from his trapezius to his waist. Every time the man flexes his biceps and triceps, all you can do is internally thank the gods for sculpting such a man to be in front of you. And those beautiful thighs and calves shaped from his black leggings and shorts? Damn.

But the thing about him that has you squeak more than a mouse are his eyes. Forest green orbs that can shift into a stern concentration whenever he’s working on a machine or when he’s observing your form and finds whatever needs correcting. Then there are times when they are mellow and soft when you’re speaking with him or when he’s deep in thought about something until you catch his attention. Then he’d throw a small smile at you — your biggest weakness. The scar on his lip being lifted to a curl never fails to put your stomach into knots.

He’s such an attractive man from the first moment you ever laid your eyes on him. You were bound to fall in love with him one way or another. It just sucks that it’s under such a professional relationship that you have to keep this little unrequited love to yourself.

Which is getting harder and harder every day, especially now when the guy is so close to your face when he’s helping you stretch. Oh, dear lord.

Every time you are done lifting weights, Toji will have you do stretches. He has you do them before and after a workout as they give your muscles time to warm up and straighten from the stress you put on them. So now, as you’re laying on your mat, Toji puts one hand on your right leg to keep it grounded on the floor and his other hand on the back of your left to push it up to your chest. The position has the two of you so close, him being situated between your legs and observing your breathing; it’s so wrong of you to dwell your mind into other things – other raunchier things.

And when he brings both your legs up to your chest, how the fuck are you supposed to calm your heart from exploding!?? You have to close your eyes during all this to not be pulled in by the examination of his gaze under his raven bangs. This is, without a doubt, the best worst part of the workouts. Thankfully, this is the last workout of the week, and the gym is about to close within an hour and a half.

Toji breaks the suffering silence between you two. “Y’re still stiff; take deeper breaths f’r me.”

Oh, if only he knew how your dirty mind took that sentence. You chew on your lip with a gulp, “Maybe I still have a little energy in me that still wants to exercise.”

That made him chortle. “Is that so? Well, maybe after your stretches, you can get on the stairmaster for a few minutes.”

You gawk at him, only furthering the smirk on his face. “Are you serious!?? You promised we wouldn’t do any cardio until next week.”

“Well, next week is around the corner,” Toji moves your knees a bit to the left, bending them further down to your chest so his face could be a little closer to yours. Your brain almost short circuits at the movement, trying to distract yourself from the fact that his groin is mere inches away from your shorts. “So, since ya got the spirit, be a doll and do a few minutes on the machine, okay? Five minutes.”

Your breathing is so slow that you’re too scared to move. Your lips pressed to a thin line to conceal the quiver, and your eyes don’t dare venture down. You already know your body is going through its own internal turmoil, a throbbing sense occurring in your lower regions the more you keep looking at Toji, who lifts a brow from awaiting your response. Oh, this man is going to kill me.

“…Five minutes.”

“Atta girl.” With a scoff, he finally straightens himself and places your legs on the mat. Toji then stands on his feet and grabs his bag. “Gonna head for the showers; finish up those stretches and head for the stepmaster. See ya later, Y/n.” And you watch him leave for the men’s locker room, finally having room to breathe. Before you can conclude your stretches with a cobra and child’s pose, you grumble to yourself in a whisper.

Why the hell did I have to fall in love with such a snarky, gruff, older guy like him…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You enter the locker room after completing the instructed exercise. Your mind is dizzy from walking on the step machine for about fifteen minutes, and your legs are mere minutes from turning into jelly. You curse Toji internally for the insufferable torture you’ve stressed on your poor limbs.

No matter, though; you’re finally done for the evening and can head home to your soft bed. The gym will close soon, so perhaps you could use the locker room showers to freshen up. But then again, after the strain you’ve put on your body for almost two hours, all you want to do is be home and listen to your favorite music. I don’t feel like cooking today…

Further into the room, you can hear the sound of someone using the showers, indicating you had picked the right idea to head home. You head for the locker side to grab your items to put in your bag before leaving, and it’s then that you hear the water stop running from where the showers are. Oh, shit, make this quick, Y/n!

In front of you is the locker with the number you’re familiar with — where you always leave your things, like your own spot. You open it only to find….nothing is in the locker? Huh? Where are my leggings? And my phone??

Come to think of it, where’s your duffel bag that you usually leave on the bench against the lockers? You’ve never had a problem with people stealing from you in this place, so how does a bag full of your stuff magically disappear? There is a bag in here, but it’s definitely not yours. And now that you get a good look, you start to notice that the color of the lockers is of a different, darker shade than what you’re usually accustomed to. Wait a minute, am I in the wrong—

“Y/n?”

You go still at the familiar voice. Oh no, please, God, no. There’s no way. Your eyes teeter to the corner as you ever-so-slowly turn to the direction where that voice was coming from. And, of course, it was your personal trainer, who is—OH MY GOD!!!

Toji stands afar on the opposite side of you from the showers, without clothing, his body and hair completely drenched from water. The only thing that covers him is a white towel wrapped around his lower body. His body, which you’re used to seeing being snug tight by his gym clothes, is out for you to see as water trickled down from his clavicle, pecs, ribcage, and abs. For a split second, you take in as much of the image as you can, storing this as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in your mind (maybe to fuel more of your erotic fantasies when you go home). But you avert your gaze when your eyes travel down his abs, counting each one until you reach below his belly button, where strays of dark hair become more prominent with a trail down his pelvis and—Okay, stop looking, stop looking!!

“M–Mr. Fushiguro!?” You croak, eyes wide with realization at what you’ve just done. Your dumbass just walked into the men’s locker room without checking first. And to add salt to the wound, your crush is the first person to catch you in the act, “O-Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to walk in here! I’ll get going—“

“No, no, Y/n, calm down,” Toji walks to where you’re standing; a mini-heart attack was about to be deployed until the older man turned to the side to grab for something in his bag. He pulls out a smaller towel. “Ya walked in here on accident, right?”

You gulp, seeing the steam from the shower still leave from Toji’s nude body. “Uhm, yeahhh, I don’t know where my head was at. Sorry…”

The gym instructor scoffs at your apology. “It happens; must’ve been a bit light-headed from the exercise and forgot where y’re at. Heh, guess those five minutes did more damage than I thought.”

“Ahaha, yeah, it was…pretty….dreadful……” Were you distracted? Yup. Because Toji used the towel he pulled from his bag to wipe off the water from his arms and face. You couldn’t help but survey the man’s movements, watching the small white towel brush on his triceps and glide down to his torso. You continue watching the small towel until your eyes drift to the happy trail on his pelvis. Your breathing goes uneven, thinking of more indecent things that connect with the trail of hair and the limb that’s shielded by the towel around Toji’s waist.

“…–ou there…Y/n?” Your name said to you snaps you back, realizing where you are and what you were doing. Your eyes crawl back to Toji’s face, who throws a small smile at you. “Eyes up here, sweetie.” Sweetie?!? If the floor could give way and swallow you, that would be appreciated. “Is there anythin’ else you need to tell me while y’re here?”

No, I’m in the men’s locker room, so I need to hurry and get the fuck out! “Uhmm, n-nope, nothing at all! So…I better get going now. See you later, Mr. Fushiguro!” You turn on the heel of your foot to head for the door, only able to take about five giant steps before Toji stops you again.

“How was it today?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, what now!? You look over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“The workout. How was it?”

“It…It was, umm, alright, I guess. I feel like I could’ve done better on the weights.”

“And why is that?”

Your body turns to have your front fully face him again. “Well, I mean, I was struggling at the last few reps…I’m sure you noticed, too, since you scolded me about it.”

He hums. “Ya know I correct you because, I know, you can do better, right, Y/n?” It was rhetoric, but you humor him with a slow nod. He brings the small towel to his head and dries his damp hair. “I’ve had many clients who come at me with everything they got or burned out before the first two months. But don’t worry, Y/n, I can tell you take pride in what we’re doing, and it’s good to know…”

His words drown out from your ears. You didn’t mean for it to – you really didn’t. But while Toji was fixing his hair, you snuck more peeks at his body, enjoying his side profile. Admiring the way his arms move and flex, following the rocky silhouette of his abs that lead down to the towel again, you gasp at the dent of something that appears to be between Toji’s legs. Good lord, even with the cotton material covering him, you can still see it and—

“….Y/n.” Oh no, I did it again. You gulp with eyes venturing back to Toji’s face; the grin grew broader than before. “That's twice, sweet thing.”

“S–Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro. It’s just that you have a...uhhh…” The heat in your ears makes it hard to concentrate on looking at the ground, anything to avoid your instructor’s gaze. “…..areallynicebody—“

“Hmm? I didn’t hear that, sweetie,” Sweetie? Sweetie!? Why'd he call me that? What you should be questioning is why that nickname made your stomach flip. But who are you kidding — if anyone had a crush on their instructor and were called a cute name like that, of course, they’d be as hot as a volcano. “Didn’t catch that, say it fr’ me again.”

“I–I said that,” Oh for fuck’s sake, this is so embarrassing! “You have a nice body…An attractive body, really…” The heat on your cheeks and ears is reaching heights that would have you combust at any moment. It’s what you’d hope for, honestly. It’s bad enough you’re stuck in the men’s locker room for not paying attention; now you’re here admitting to your instructor that you got the hots for him. God, please strike me here and now!

Toji says nothing after you say that, and it has your nerves at an all-time high, wondering if you should wait for his reply or just dash for the door and hope no one sees you leaving the men’s locker room. However, his voice breaks the silence, “I can say the same fr’ you.”

Oh, stop it. “Oh, please, no need to butter me up, Mr. Fushigu—“

“I’m serious.” He shuts down your argument down your argument before you can even finish. “C’mere.”

Why did you do what you were about to do? You could’ve just declined, exited the facility, and headed straight home to wallow away about this entire interaction, maybe find a different gym to form a membership with. But you didn’t. Instead, with downcast eyes, you slowly approached your instructor, who stood behind the locker bench. “Closer,” he says, noting how you’re about two arms length away from him, which you meekly decrease to one. “You don’t think ya got a nice body?”

The adjacency between you two was too much for you, your face minutes from imploding. Too shy for words, you settle for a nod to give.

“How come?”

For God’s sake, this is not a conversation you want to have now with your crush instructor in the middle of the men’s locker room. “I…Well, Mr. Fushiguro—“

“Toji,” he cuts you off, discarding the small towel to the top of his bag. “Y’re over here tellin’ me I look good when you’re the one lookin’ like you could strike any guy that walks up in this place. Doncha think so?”

Again, your eyes avoided his toweled figure, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your sneakers. “I guess, but…Toji, when compared to you, I—“

“Then that’s what ya shouldn’t be doin’, who told you to compare y'rself to others?” Toji brings a hand to your chin to make your avoidant peer placed on him, a move you were not mentally strapped in for. “I’m me, and y’re you, right?”

“Right…”

“And that’s a good thing,” the hand on your chin slides down to the inside of your hoodie, his forefinger sneaking under the band of your sports bra. It makes your breathing stop. “But ya know what else I think?”

“What?” You sounded so low – so tiny – you didn’t know if he could hear you. He then brings his face close to your ear, and you could’ve sworn you almost felt your heart jump out of your throat. His free hand comes around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. The cotton of the towel now brushed your leg, and you could sink into a pool of embarrassment at the gasp you let out.

His voice was hoarse and low, the air from his nostrils grazing the skin of your ear. “…I think y’r body is the sexiest thing I’ve seen.”

The sentence hit you like a truck, your heart almost giving in to a complete shutdown. “Huh–Ohhhh, wait,” Toji takes a nibble of your ear while his hand slithers your hoodie off of you, freeing your arms and covered chest where he creeps his hand inside next. You whimper at his fingers on your nipples that harden at his grinding touch. “Toji, wait, please wait…Do you really mean—“

“Mhmm, I do,” He coos, and a kiss to your neck nearly has you give way and lose balance; lucky for you, Toji was smart enough to have a leg between yours. “Now that I have you here, I’ll prove it.”

“We’re—Ahhnnn…But we’re in the men’s locker room,” Toji brings his face up to look at you, your half-lidded eyes locked with his emerald orbs. “Someone could see us…”

Your worries are taken with a caress to your cheek. “Don’t worry about other people when y’re with me. I gotcha, baby.”

“And I’m…Ohooo, really sweaty…”

“Nothin’ a shower can’t fix.”

And before you refute him again, Toji places his scarred lips onto yours, a shocked moan muffled as he kisses and sucks on your bottom lip. The hand in your bra now positions to the back of your neck, positioning you for him to deepen the kiss once you allow him access to your mouth. And once you kiss him back, all the reins of restraint have been discarded along with your hoodie to the floor.

The sounds of lips smacking get louder by the second, the passion in the kiss unraveling when you bring your hands to cup his cheek and have his face practically glued to yours. And Toji complies, shoving his tongue to tease and play with yours. The hand that was on your waist comes down to your ass for him to grope with the flesh, urging more of your sobs to be taken from him. Is it possible for your brain to turn into mush from a kiss? You’re finding that out now, breaking the kiss to gather whatever air you can before Toji claims your lips again.

The leg you’re riding on is nestled between your thighs, rubbing against the groin of your shorts. With every kiss and hump comes a grind on his leg, and it alleviates the growing ache that’s flourishing in your panties. Shivers travel up your spine and heighten your horniness, this elated feeling so dangerous that you could turn into putty at any second.

Toji lets go of your lips with a heavy pant, breathlessly snickering at his work; turning his cute client into a mess flipped a switch he’s been dying to indulge with. “Mmmm, y’re too fuckin’ cute, baby,” he wipes your mouth before letting you go; you hold back a whine when he removes his warm figure from you and steps back. It’s then that your instructor finally removes the towel that’s been shielding a now-discernible tent. The white towel meets the floor, and you follow his happy trail to meet with his erection, a sight that makes your jaw drop. The older man takes a seat on the bench behind him, and his legs spread out for his dick and balls to be ever-so-present and seen.

“Ya see how crazy you and y’r body make me?” He bites his lip, getting more turned on with you marveling at him and his length. “C’mere, angel, lemme see what you can do.” It takes a good mental slap to snap out of your frozen state and look at the thing you’ve been imagining all these months. Now, when the chance has finally been brought to you, how could you pass this up? Following Toji’s command, you come close and go to your knees between his legs.

The sheer size and girth of his length nearly put you in a trance, your eyes taking every detail of his erection before your eyes. Every dent and curve, the prominent veins from the underside, and the oddly pretty pink tip where bits of precum dare protrude from the urethra. Your raised hand has hesitance, yet Toji is quick to assuage your unease, taking your hand with his and wrapping it on his cock. The rough skin on your palm hitches your breath, “Hmmm, oh fuck. Yeah, just like that, princess.”

And there he goes again, egging you on with more cute pet names. Your hand slides up and down along his shaft from the tip to the base, and the sensation of its veins is so raunchy for your overwhelmed fingertips. Toji’s gruff hums to your touches stick to your ears the most, a sound you never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be lucky enough to hear. You want to keep hearing them, want them to be stored in your memory for as long as you can. And when you meekly tease his glans with a tiny lick, the hiss he expresses turns you on even more, so much so that you take the tip with patience and start to suck.

Toji throws his head back to the lockers behind him; the feeling of your tongue rolling around his girth as you inhale his cock is crazy. Fuck, it felt so good – he has to fight the urge to rut into your hollow cheeks and puffy lips. “Hahhh…Mmmm, damn….Ahahaha, ya know how to use that mouth of y’rs, Y/n. Keep suckin’ me off like that, and I’ll—Ohhh! Shit, shit, shiiiit,” he wasn’t prepared for you to take in his entire erection to the hilt. The tightness of your throat around him sends shivers, having to use the bench to grip onto.

You bob your head along his length, a hand accompanying the motions to further the exhilaration. Spit and come wet your palm, yet you’re too focused on the task to care, the haze of your brain increasing every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. The jerk of his hips entails that you’re doing a good job, Toji bringing a hand to the back of your head when you kiss and lick on the head of his cock. You take note, assuming that it’s his weak spot, and continue to suck and tease the tip some more, massaging his testicles which almost had him choke.

“—Hnnmph! Fuckin’ shit, I can’t…” Toji then has enough of this ribbing pleasure, unable to hold it anymore. With a careful hold on your skull, he stands from the bench and plows your face with his member. The harsh hit of his hips propelling his dick down to the deep crevices of your throat was sudden; the assault on your uvula results in your gag reflex; however, Toji was here to calm you down, “It’s alright, angel, breathe fr’ me.” He caters to you with a mediocre rhythm to the hips, the movement relieving the abrupt stress to your throat as you hum on his cock. You find purchase on his thighs to stabilize yourself while he plays with you orally, dialing up the pumps to your mouth until it reaches an erratic mood. Fuck, it has your head ringing, but the growing twinges and throbs between your legs practically excite you for more. Goddamn, it feels so good. So fucking good. “Jesus Christ—Y/n, I’m ‘bout to cum. Keep swirlin’ that tongue…Nnmmm, fuuck, right there, right there—Ahhhck!!”

His release comes with a few rough hits to your lips, his balls hitting your chin until they’re pressed against it. He pups his load into you, and you take it like a champ, letting the fluid venture down as the girth pulsates around your walls. His choked breathing eventually simmers down, giving it a few long seconds before he steadily removes himself from your warm cavity. The last remnants of his white substance paint your tongue, your saliva coating him. And with a voluntary swallow, you open your mouth again to showcase your clean change.

“Heh, didn’t even have to tell you,” Toji chortles, bringing a thumb to wipe your chin. “Good girl.”

KA-CHA! CREEEEK!!

Wide green eyes shoot wide along with yours, and the both of you go frozen rigid. That was most definitely the sound of a door opening. The door to the men’s locker room, where you are on your knees, in front of your personal instructor, with his dick out for the whole world to see. The blood in your body runs cold, and your stomach drops to the chilly floor. Oh, it’s over. It’s done. Your life is officially coming to an end. Welp, it’s time for me to think of a good suicide note when I get home and—

Pause on that. Because one moment you were thinking of your demise from this discomfiting situation, next you’re being dragged by Toji to the other part of the locker room, the showers. He swiftly opens a curtain and throws you both inside with a close, and the wet tiles soaked to your socks have you cringe, so you take them off.

“Hello?” It’s a guy’s voice, of course — Ino’s. The young man is probably inspecting the male locker rooms before they close for the night like usual. You don’t dare speak so much as a letter when the footsteps draw closer to the showers, your heart rate spiking to a nervous high, and your breathing shallow. This is worse; now you’re in a confined space, face-to-face with Toji, who is utterly nude, towel left back on the bench. Your eyes locked with his, and your ears to the sounds of shoes entering the plane. “Anyone here? Saw some stuff at the front.”

“Yeah, I’m here,” your expression turns to sheer terror, wide orbs looking at the raven-haired man who spoke. No! Why would you say something!?

“Hmm? Toji, that you?” Ino’s voice comes closer, in front of the shower curtain that shields you from his field of vision. Your heart is on the verge of dropping to your intestines. “You’re still here? Figured you’d be home by now.”

“Nah, I’m still here. Just about to finish up and head out.” Toji then turns on the faucet, cold peeps of water hitting your sweaty skin, panties, and sports bra. And, of course, it catches you off guard. OH FUUUUUU— You don’t scream. You can’t. Instead, you shield your mouth and turn your back to Toji after giving him the most outstanding death glare of your life, which the older finds amusement in. You wipe your face from the water, cursing internally at this entire predicament.

“Oh, okay, cool. I was just worried someone left their stuff on that bench over there. Carry on, and have a good night!” Ino dismisses himself and leaves the showers, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief. Oh, thank goodness…

Toji, on the other hand, sees your relieved state, and he can’t help but grin to himself with what he’s about to do. Moving closer to you, he brings his wet hands to your sports bra and immediately goes to fondling your breasts. A moan sneaks past you at the contact, prompting him to grope you even more. “T–Toji,” the water gradually gets warmer, juxtaposing with his cold fingers. “Stop, we have to leave, this is—Ohooo…” He tweaks your nipples with his forefinger and thumbs, and a leg sneaks in between yours.

“Relax, dollface, it’s just you and me here,” Oh, sweet Lord, you almost fell to your knees when he whispered to your ear and a teasing lick to your helix. “Got ya all to myself, now…” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, his wet hair brushing your cheek while he snakes his hand down into your panties. The way his fingers graze your clit again has you arch your back to him, another hushed shriek when he bullies his way between your folds.

“Hey, Toji?” Ino’s voice again. Back to anxious stakes now that Toji’s toying with you. Goddamn it, Ino! What are you still doing here!? “I noticed you left your towel on the bench over there. But I also saw Y/n’s hoodie there.” Oh, fuck me!! Shit, shit, shit—"Ohhmph!!"

With quickness, you covered your mouth before your moan caught the ears of the front desk employee. And the reason for that is that Toji pulled down your soaked underwear and gave your chasm a sudden lick. If Ino weren’t back here, you’d give your personal trainer the nastiest kick to the throat you could ever do. But when he inserts a finger inside you, your aggression withered away in seconds.

“Huh? Ohh, yeah, ‘bout that,” Toji stands back up and continues to finger you, chuckling at the sight of your trembling figure using the wall as leverage. “I saw ‘em before headin’ to the locker room. We talked for a while, but then they said they needed to change and told me to hold their hoodie for ‘em.” He says it so casually, all the while scraping your inner walls with the tip of his forefinger, summoning hushed cries that turn to silent screams when his free hand comes down to playfully pinch and press on your clitoris. God, this is too much torture for one night.

Ino keeps questioning. “Really? I had someone check the other locker rooms, and she said she didn’t see anyone or anything except for a few personal items and leggings in one of the lockers. I’m guessing those would be Y/n’s, but where could they be?” Little did he know that you were just a curtain pull away from being found, chewing hard on your lip to quash your screams from the erratic swiping on your clit and the curving hits of his digits in your wetness.

“Mmmm, they probably are at another part of the gym or waitin’ for me at the front.” He lies effortlessly, yet his attention is still on you as he removes his fingers from you, the pleasure subsiding from the removal. Instead, he brings his erection in between your folds and humps you, and the feeling of his dick on your lips worsens the throbs in your awaiting cunt. With the heat coming from the shower and your uneven breaths, you’re bound to faint at any moment.

“Ahh, makes sense. Alright, I’ll try and find them then,” you don’t say anything, just hesitant breaths when you feel the tip of Toji’s cock align and lightly push to your slick-coated entrance. Holy fuck, this is actually happening! Your lips quiver when Toji comes down to your ear to tell you to relax your body from tension, quietly maneuvering you by pulling your lower half to him. You do big inhales and exhales while the man pushes his cockhead to enter your cunt, wincing at the few seconds of pain that accompany each push. “See you later, Toji, and I put your towel on the hood next to your shower for when you’re done. Good night!”

“See ya.” And with Toji’s dismissal, Ino’s footsteps draw farther and farther from where you two are. And the moment you hear the locker room door slam close, Toji pushes the entire cockhead inside of you. Finally, you can squeal out to your heart’s content, balling your fists on the shower wall while your personal trainer wedges his length inside of you and stretches your walls. The girth was definitely something you knew would be an obstacle to accommodate, and it’s worse when your slit keeps clamping around the foreign limb invading inside. Tears begin to swell from the stinging touch, not that they would be distinguished by the shower water hitting behind you and Toji.

“Haahh, ahahhnn, mmmm,” Your wails seep out from your system right as the base of his cock kisses your lower region lips. And after a few seconds, he starts with a slow pace. Knowing that you can feel every dent and vein within you is insane to comprehend; the heat across your cheeks cranks up due to the euphoric sensations. “Ohhhh, my God, Tojiii. I’m so full…”

Toji pecks on your shoulder, “Yeah, sweet thing? I bet so. Just be a good girl and keep grippin’ on me like that, alright? Gonna start movin’ now…” His hips rut into your vagina, pulling his shaft slowly outward and rushing it back inward. Holy shit, it felt so dreamlike — having him actually move inside of you. But it was very much real; having his pelvis meeting the flesh of your ass was proof of such.

A hand snakes down to your clitoris, and a gasp leaves your lips at the brush of his thumb rubbing against it. Your legs tremble at the flick of his finger on your bud, and the pace of his thrusts crank up in speed, making it hard to concentrate on one thing. So many senses are being activated all at once; the shower water raining down on your back, the exhilarating combination of Toji’s dick grinding down on your insides, and the swipes and pinches on your precious clitoris. God, it was all too much.

“Arch some more fr’ me, princess,” Toji gets up to push your back further down, the walls of your chasm clinging onto him as the more exposed opening gives room for you to be plowed. “Hnnmm, shit, feels so good…Hey, let’s try somethin’ different.”

By the time the last bit of his sentence could be registered, he already had you turned to face him, folding your arms around his neck. You didn’t know what for until he hoisted you up, and then you instinctively grabbed hold for dear life before your back hit the wall, your legs wrapped around him while he held you by the thighs. Toji brings his member back to your labia to insert it back inside, and you two moan at the contact again. Oh, this was different – never have you been lifted like this. And to be elevated by your gym crush, in this connotation, is enough to have you appalled.

But what made your breath hitch the most was Toji’s face being up close and personal. The bangs stuck to his forehead thanks to the shower water; his jet-black hair was wet and slicked. Trails flow down his face, drops of water plummeting from his nose and chin. And – oh, sweet Jesus – those green eyes of his, so striking as if they could pierce right through you. They were piercing through you. He took in your expression just as you were his, eyes filled with wanton desire, and it was all directed towards you – for you. He flashes a small smile, teeth peeking from beneath his scarred lips.

Oh, my God. You turn to the side to hide your face from his gaze; it definitely wasn’t the water that was making your cheeks and ears hot at that moment. But that didn’t fly with Toji. He sneaks into a rut that has you jump on his cock, the new position giving his dick an angle to hit your cervix. Because of that, the jab erupts a shriek you had no preparation for withholding.

“Heh, aht, aht, don’t do that,” Oh, he knows he’s in control of this entire situation; you can hear it in his patronizing chortle. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, doll,” he kisses your cheek and trails down to the crook of your neck. “Let me hear you—Aiishhh! Oh, fuuck…”

Once Toji begins to jerk his hips to you, you dwell into a pleasure that you never knew existed. Toji’s length scrapes your inner walls like crazy, like a euphoric itch. The fact that you’re bouncing on the cock of your personal trainer is scary to comprehend. Having him see you like this, hearing you moan and wail for him, you never felt more exposed in your entire life. And also, him holding you like you weigh nothing and fucking you in the men’s locker room showers?! What the actual fuck!? This is actually so embarrassing – I could die!

But why would you? The commotion between your legs feels way too good to bring this to a stop – you two are already joined in a union, so why stop? Every stroke to your slit sends a shiver up your spine, clamping onto him every time he brushes up on your sweet spots that make your nerves tingle. And the occasional jabs to your tender cervix? Damn, the stimulation was enough to have you faint with the heat growing tenfold.

“Mmmff, hoohhh, ohhhhh,” your cries are drowned out by the shower, only heard by Toji. Speaking of, this position gives you proximity to observe his expression. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut as if he’s in the zone. The huffs of breath he takes with every roll of his pelvis are so hot to the ear that you wouldn’t mind listening to them all day. Anytime the walls of your wetness clamp onto him, he moans and hushed curses at the feeling of you wanting him. He’s an attractive man, but, holy fuck, this was a sight you thought you’d never see in a million years.

“—Khhhh! Hnmph, ahhhh,” Through the gruff pants, Toji opens his eyes half-lidded, catching you in the moment of staring right at him. You clench onto him; why does this man have to look so fucking sexy!? He smirks, “How we feelin’ now, baby?”

“Hahhh, I–I’m—Ohhh!! Fucking shiiiitt,” you cry out when he slams deep into you, making your toes curl, and your words come out in slurs. “It’s too muuchh, Tojiii, ughhh!! T–Tooo muuuuch…”

“Ya gettin’ close?” Oh, yes, you were. You could feel it through the trembles climbing up your fibers. Your brows trench at the high, and Toji was mean enough to sneak a pinch to the clitoris without you noticing. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you shake your head hurriedly. He chuckles, releasing your clit from his rough fingers and putting his forehead to yours. “C’mon, angel, I won’t know what you want if ya don’t say it.”

Fuck, he’s such a meanie. You love it so fucking much. You mewl to him, “Pleaseee, Tojiii, I want it so bad!”

He lifts a brow. “Want what?”

“—To cum!! Pleasepleaseee, I wanna cum on you, I want it—Ahaahhnn!!” Fuck, it’s coming. Almost there.

That’s all he needed to hear, the grin on his face broadening at your response. “Cum on me, then. I’m right here to catch ya, princess.” His hand returns to your clitoris, pressing down on the delicate button to the point where all he can hear is your sweet screams of lust. His thrusts now get erratically fast, having you rebound to the hilt of his length, the smacks of skin slapping against each other fill the confined space of the shower. And the climb of your aroused high increases until it comes crashing down; you let out one last howl as the electric shocks course through your body, and your release is freed. Your walls squeeze hard onto Toji as you indulge in your climax; him pistoning his cock to your sensitive labia adds to the chilling sensitivity. Your cunt flutters around his cock while you experience your crescendo, your eyes screwed shut to enhance the experience, not aware of Toji watching you ride out your orgasm on him.

The trembles calm down, the shocks subside, and your breathing descends into a steady rhythm. Throwing your head back, you rest your back against the wall while still in Toji’s hold, using this time to indulge yourself in this moment of clarity.

Toji lets out a tiny laugh, bringing his face to your neck to suck on it. “That felt good, sweet thing?” You sigh out of breath, nodding to his question. “Hmmm, good. But ya know I’m not done, right?” Your blood ran cold, your body rigid still. Wait, huh? “I let you have your fun, so be a good girl, and lemme have mine.”

The involuntary twitch of your slit should give you a clue as to how the news hit you, and you can't tell if it'll be him or the shower that will have you melting like a puddle by the time this is over...

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Haibara walks out to the front desk, where Ino hurriedly stuffs his phone back into his pocket, away from his superior’s eyes. Fortunately for the younger man, the older one didn’t see his device. “Hey, Ino, I got a question.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” The associate fidgets with his brown hair under his rolled-up ski mask.

“Have you seen Mr. Fushiguro and Y/n today? Toji told me he couldn’t make it for Monday night, but I haven’t seen Y/n that day or Wednesday.” The older brunette looks around to find any resembling cues, but his eyes see nothing that sparks familiarity.

Ino blinks before answering. “No. And now that you mention it, I haven’t seen or heard from them since last week…”

Haibara leans on the desk and sighs. “Hope Y/n’s doing all right. Usually, they’d call or shoot a text telling me they couldn’t make it for their appointments with Fushiguro. But this is twice where neither of them show up.”

“Hmm, can’t say I have an idea.” The other shrugs at his superior’s concerns. “I didn’t get a call or text from Y/n either, so maybe I’ll give ‘em one after my shift. Heh. Let’s hope they didn’t replace us with another gym.”

With trenched brows, Haibara took offense to the younger brunette’s words. “Cut that out, man! I’d be pretty upset if they just suddenly stopped showing up here. Half a year of coming in and out and getting to know each other, only for them to just vanish like that…At the very least, they could give a call!” He passionately bangs on the front desk, giving Ino a startle.

RING-RING-RING!! RING-RING-RING!!

The two froze at the sudden ring of the desk phone as if Haibara’s fist magically granted them a call. And by the exchanged glances they shared before Ino picked up the phone, they better hope it wasn’t the call they were expecting. “Hello, this is Golden Gate Gym. My name is Takuma Ino; what can I do for you?”

“Hey, is that you, Ino?”

“Hey, Y/n!” Ino turns to Haibara, whose eyes share the same perplexity as his. “It’s good to hear from you; where’ve you been? You’ve been MIA for almost a week.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had a little accident and sprained my ankle; I couldn’t come to the gym on Monday and Wednesday.”

“Oh, shit, for real?” Haibara watched the younger man’s tone change to concern, which didn’t help his nerves either. “Sorry to hear about that, but it’s a good call not coming here and taking care of yourself.”

“Yeah, thanks. Is Haibara there with you by any chance?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s right next to me, actually.” Ino takes the initiative to give the darker brunette the phone to speak with the one on the other side of the line. Haibara outstretches his arm to take the phone and put the receiving end to his ear. “Yo, Y/n!”

“Hey, Haihai. I meant to call you Wednesday, but I’m letting you know that Mr. Fushiguro and I are still doing our weekly appointments.”

Haibara sighs in relief internally, giving Ino a thumbs up. “Oh, thank God! You two had me worried there for a second. We didn’t see you guys here and thought you’d be a no-show again.”

“Yeah, sorry for the scare. Mr. Fushiguro found out about it and decided it would be….Haahhh….best for me to do my regimine at my apartment instead…”

“Well, that’s nice of him to look out for you with your ankle. I’m sure he’s doing what he can to—“

“Ahaahhnn!!”

A sudden yelp pops into the call out of nowhere and completely takes Haibara aback from the phone as if it was so out of place for the topic that was taking place. Ino notices it when the darker brunette gives him a brief perplexed look, which the younger shrugs at. “Uhh, Y/n? You busy right now?”

Oh, you were busy, all right. You’re at your apartment right now. Your ankle? Absolutely fine, nothing wrong about it in the slightest. The only change, however, is not being at the gym for this entire week and staying home instead. Why?

How about asking your personal trainer who has you propped upside down, standing up with his hands holding you by your ass, stuffing his face to your exposed cunt which he licks and sucks on. The feeling of his tongue digging through your labia has your hips jerking, but his strong arms exhibit unmoving effort in keeping your wetness in his mouth. His pants down to his knees, and his erect length in your hand and brushing your cheek. This is most definitely not the at-home exercise that Haibara is thinking of.

“…Hello?…Y/n, you there?”

Oh, shit! “Y–Yeah, I’m here! Sorry, my ankle is acting up on me—Ohhhh…Fushiguro’s looking at it for me…” Oh, please, he’s not checking shit; fucker indulging himself between your asscheecks, ravishing your folds like a sweet fruit to his tastebuds.

“Oh! So you two are exercising together right now?” Toji nibbles on your vagina and grazes with his teeth, having you gasp and twitch. His tongue surprising your clit prompts a choked whine. “That’s good to know then! Alright then, see you guys when you’re ready to return to the gym. And tell Toji not to put too much on you, ya hear?”

“—Khhhh, mhmm…I’ll give him an earful for you. See you later, Haibara…”

“Great, see ya. Happy Friday!”

And with that farewell, you can finally toss the phone down and coo to your heart’s content, biting your lips at Toji stuffing his mouth on your bare chasm; his muffled groans vibrate your lower half like crazy. “Ohhooo!! Ohhhfuckkk, I’m gonna cumm,” your words slur with a suck to your clitoris, your hips bucking involuntarily. “Lemme cum, Tojiiii, I wanna—Ahaaaa!!”

He removes his face from your ass with an exhale as if he was dying for breath. But based on the grin plastered on his face, he wouldn’t mind being in this position for a little while. “Oh, I don’t think so, doll. I don’t think ya deserve to cum in my mouth.”

That was the last thing you wanted to hear right now. “Ahahnn!! You’re such an asshole, Toji…”

He chuckles crudely. “That’s where I’m gonna play with next if you don’t stuff my dick in that pretty mouth of y’rs already. Suck me good; then maybe I’ll let the princess cum all over me.”

Broad strokes from his pelvis rub his dick on your cheek, a reminder of your part of this endeavor that you must partake in. The smell of him overwhelms your nostrils into a pornographic trance, your head pounding just from looking at it. You gulp and take the tip into your mouth, sucking and licking the precum off while your hands glide up and down his shaft. “Good girl, good girl…” Toji goes back to smacking his lips on your folds, moving his tongue in whirlpool motions that have you moaning on his cock. God, it feels so good, so fucking good. You can see yourself becoming addicted to this, and that’s a bit scary seeing this professional relationship drift to something more touchy and personal…

…But then again, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?

8K notes · View notes

countlessimagines · 5 months ago

Text

Downfall [ Five Hargreeves x Reader ]

Summary: No matter the timeline, you and Five never get your chance.

A/N: well I think I can agree with everyone that season four was not good… so my way of coping is making angsty imagines for it… I’m trying to cope with the fact this is the last time we will ever see them ): This is also super short, apologies

Warnings: Season Four Spoilers

MASTERLIST LINK

Five had seen multiple timelines with Lila throughout their time spent together. And in almost every single one they saw, you were dead by the hands of him or vice versa. Eventually it became normal to see you mourning Five or him taking revenge for you.

Lila could see how distressing it was for him to see every timeline play out the same for the both of you.

Fate never seemed to be on your side, and even in your timeline, Five never had the courage to tell you his feelings. Despite spending six years by his side, being his roommate, helping him with cases, being there emotionally for him… he never seemed to catch on to the fact that you held feelings for him, too.

On one of their multiple train rides, Lila tried to address what the two of you meant to each other, but Five didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Because he feared the moment he’d open up, fate would play it’s cruel trick again and guarantee he would never see you again.

So he buried it deep within himself so it would not haunt him.

For you, it was mere hours you had last seen Five. You had helped Allison and Claire rescue Klaus from being buried alive, and had found your way to Lila and Diego’s home.

Everything seemed to be alright, and although you could sense something was wrong with Five, you didn’t have the energy to ask, simply from the long day you were all having.

However, you didn’t fail to notice the looks Lila and Five were sharing. It made not only you suspicious, but Diego as well. It was started to grow more and more tense as he pried information from them.

It almost felt as if your heart was being ripped out of your chest, being stomped on by the universe, as Five and Lila confessed of their infidelity.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to console Diego or slap Five.

You decided on the latter before storming out of the house. Diego tried to stop Five from chasing after you, but Five was quicker and blinked to your side.

“Let me explain.”

“Get away from me!” You screamed as you exited the house. Nobody followed the two of you, so you only assumed Lila was in the hot seat.

“(Y/n)! Stop acting like a child and listen.” Five grabbed your arm and whipped you around to face him. He was close now, his breath fanning your face.

“How could I listen to the fact you and Lila shared such an intimate relationship while I have been waiting years for you to do the same with me.” You made sure to throw your words in his face, making all of your emotions clear as day. Pretending to not hold feelings for him was beginning to weigh you down, so you needed to let go of those weights now.

“All we did was kiss,” Five said it like it was the most simple action in the world. “One kiss and we realized our mistake immediately. We got wrapped up in our own little bubble and forgot the important things. I just… I couldn’t handle seeing you die anymore…”

“What?” You pushed away from him. Had he seen a timeline with you dead?

“I… we don’t get a happy ending in any timelines. No matter what we do, we fail to be together.” Five sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I lost hope that even if we got back, it would lead to our demise.”

You didn’t know what to say to him as your heart began to beat uncontrollably.

He looked into your tear filled eyes and said, “I want to be with you, but I don’t want to kill you.”

“I don’t want to be with someone who, after forty years in the apocalypse, couldn’t even keep his heart on one person for seven years. It doesn’t matter if you realized your mistake, Five. I’ve been here the whole time waiting for you. I took care of you when you came home bloodied. I stayed up with you while you had panic attacks. I made sure that you had coffee brewed every morning.”

Five felt ashamed he had let everything you had done for him go to waste with his one mistake. “I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“Maybe I’ll be the bigger person and actually forgive you, because I know deep inside I am that person. And I for sure know you aren’t because you kissed your brother’s wife, Five.” You scoffed and wiped away your tears. “Good luck with that.”

You began to walk towards your car without another word, and Five just watched as you left.

He was smart enough to know that if he chased you, it would lead to a grave.

And not too long after, he would sacrifice himself with his family, his last thoughts only consisted of you and how much he failed your relationship. Some selfish part of him hoped that he’d come back, to be able to see you again.

But the more rational side of him knew that he would never touch you again.

Because for once, you would be able to live in a peaceful timeline without him there to cause your downfall.

#five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves #number five x reader #number five #five x reader #tua #tua season 4 #the umbrella academy imagines #the umbrella academy #tua imagines #tua imagine #tua x reader #tua x you #five hargreeves x you #aidan gallagher #Aidan Gallagher x reader #Netflix

1K notes · View notes

vhannilah · 7 days ago

Text

iii. it's ride or die, baby!

pairing. player 230 | choi su-bong | thanos x f! reader

summary. you're not a big fan of your boyfriend's hobby. but, you wouldn't mind tagging along with him— even if it means danger.

contains. au, fluff, mature themes

WITNESSING a car blowing up was not a rare sight for you and your boyfriend, Choi Su-bong, most commonly known as Thanos.

Tasting the sweet flavor of your lollipop on your tongue, your eyes scanned the view across the street, watching the siren retrieve the deceased person inside the ambulance.

Without looking at your boyfriend, you muttered enough for him to hear, "Do you think he crashed the car on purpose?"

Your boyfriend replied, clearly unbothered at the scene in front of him, "Nah, babe. He's just stupid."

The reply made you nibble on your bottom lip, feeling worried start to creep in inside your head.

Su-bong felt your nervousness by the way you lightly tapped his hand, indicating you wanted to hold him. He let you hold his hand, squeezing your hands softly, "What's wrong, babe?"

You whispered honestly, "Just nervous about tonight..."

"Do you trust me?"

You immediately answered, "Of course!"

"Then there's nothing to worry about, babe. If anything out of hand happens, I'd handle 'em for you."

You nodded, your fear slowly subsiding at his words of reassurance. You leaned your head on his shoulder, listening to what he was going to say next, "That dude crashed his car because he didn't follow that one rule when it comes to driving."

"What?"

You asked your boyfriend in pure curiosity and anticipation. He stared at our expression for a few seconds before answering.

"Don't be stupid," he nonchalantly said as he took the lollipop from your mouth to his.

"Hey! That's mine— really?"

You watched him chew the lollipop into small crumbs until it melted right into his tongue. You frowned, clearly not happy about what he'd done.

Suddenly, his finger lifted your face by your chin. And without giving you a warning, his lips touched yours.

Although confused, you reciprocated the kiss.

He pried your lips open, pushing his tongue inside your mouth, intertwining with yours.

You could taste the sweet flavor of your lollipop as Su-bong's hands squeezed your waist, pulling you closer. Your face flushed at the sudden action, whining as the two of you continued to make out in public despite the judging eyes of the people passing by.

After a few minutes, the two of you separated from each other, leaving a trail of saliva from both your lips. You wiped it off, feeling your lips start to feel sore at the rough treatment it received.

"You could've just bought me a new one."

He smirked, "But you would've preferred my lips anyway."

That was the truth.

ᯓ★

The dark alley wasn't as silent as it had been on the previous nights that passed. People's voices mixed with the loud, booming music created a party-like atmosphere in the street.

The sound of the car engines roared through the night, the drivers inside speeding up as they left their imprint on the road.

Holding your boyfriend's hand, you never took your eyes off of his back as he led you out of the crowd, walking towards the rows of cars parked not far away from the main road that was used for the race.

Once you and him were finally released from the crowd, his hands let go of yours, placing it to your waist, pulling you closer as you walked side-by-side.

You could feel the heated glare your best friend's eyes, Myung-gi, were sending towards Su-bong's direction. He was not happy that your boyfriend decided to bring you with him.

Myung-gi was aware he shouldn't do anything rashly knowing that he's under the influence. But, the sight of you being with Su-bong made something stir inside of his head.

Without thinking of the possible consequences of his actions, Myung-gi released himself from his girlfriend's hand.

"[Name]!"

Myung-gi called out, putting on a smile as he approached you. Disregarding the unwelcome look your boyfriend was giving him, he pulled you in for a hug.

He held you tightly, "I missed you, you know? You never have the time to hang out with me after you got with... him."

Holding your hands up in the air, you slowly patted his back, "Yeah, I missed you and Jun-hee too."

You smiled at Jun-hee who was following Myung-gi. You thought he was going to let you go soon, but he didn't.

Feeling the hug was a bit way longer than it should have been, you patted his back, "Myung-gi?"

Su-bong pushed the other man away from you, obviously pissed, "Woah, woah! That's enough hug from my woman. You're not his boyfriend, yeah?"

Jun-hee held the man steady, making sure he was okay before shifting her eyes to the two of you, "Sorry about that. Myung-gi's drank a lot tonight."

"What? I'm not drunk, I didn't even drink that much!"

You smiled awkwardly, "Yeah, he's drunk. We should probably go now since the race is about to start," you waved at her, dragging your boyfriend away.

ᯓ★

"Baby, wait— mhm, not now!"

You begged your boyfriend, feeling his hands slither under your skirt, caressing your thighs. You tried to hold in your moans as he continued to litter kisses, bite, and suck on your neck— you were sure you wouldn't be able to hide it for the next few days no matter what you do.

Although breathless, you managed to whisper in his ears, "I only love you, baby. Not him, so don't be jealous of him."

He grumbled, "I'm not jealous of him, I just hated how he touched you."

You giggled at his response. Placing your hands on his cheeks, you kissed him passionately.

ᯓ★

"Brace yourself, baby. This is gonna be the best ride you'll ever experience in your whole life."

Rolling your eyes at his smug expression, you fastened your seatbelt and put your helmet on, ready to take off.

With his hands squeezing your thigh one last time, he asked, "You ready, baby?"

You deadpan, "Do I have a choice?"

"Nah."

With one final look at you, the final signal was sent, and the car he drove accelerated.

Your grip on your seatbelt tightened in fear. You felt like any second from now, the car would crash and both of you would die from how fast everything was going at the moment. You held yourself back from fainting.

Your boyfriend's reaction was the complete opposite of yours. He seems to be having the time of his life.

His opponent, Myung-gi, didn't seem to be the same.

Su-bong decided it was a good chance to teach this dude who's the boss. He lightly lowered the speed of the car, getting on the same level as Myung-gi's.

Lowering the car's window after sensing your best friend's eyes in your direction, he steered the cars wheels to the side, aggressively bumping the side on Myung-gi's car causing it to sway and almost crash in a nearby light post.

"Baby, what the f*ck are you doing?"

He answered, "Just being friendly."

Seeing the annoyed expression of Myung-gi, Su-bong felt satisfied as he closed the window and burst out laughing. The speed of vehicle went even faster before, overpowering the opponents as they were left behind.

The gap between him and the opponent's car was quite significant, showing you how skilled and talented your boyfriend really in in this field. Hell, he even had the audacity to place one of his hands on your thighs.

As much as you hated to admit it, your boyfriend's ability to maneuver the car was out of this world. It's as if the car and he turned into one entity.

With only one hand on the steering wheel, his control of the situation didn't affect how well he avoided obstacles that the two of you faced along the way.

You could feel the finish line was getting closer. You're certain your boyfriend's going to win.

Out of nowhere, a loud bang echoed at the back of the car. Confused, she asked her boyfriend, "What was that?"

"Well, well. Guess what? The motherf*cker finally decided to show his true colors," he sneered.

The attack didn't end just there. Multiple rounds of shots were sent towards the car. Unfortunately, Su-bong was preoccupied as he was controlling the car, making him unable to do anything but try to dodge the bullets from touching the wheels.

But, your hands were free. And Su-bong knew just avoiding it wouldn't help all that much. If they don't attack back, they'll get hit by the bullets.

"Baby, get the gun. It's in the back of my car"

"What? What do you want me to do?!," you choked, fear visibly showing on your face.

He asked in a serious tone, "Choose your side, baby. Me or that bastard?"

"You, of course."

His eyes softened at your answer before giving a light squeeze on your thigh, "Then, get the gun for me and let that bastard have a taste of his own medicine."

Although you still feel hesitant to do it, you nod your head and followed your boyfriend's order.

Sensing your nervousness, he reassured you, "Don't worry, baby. I'll handle everything else for you, just focus on what I said."

Believing his words, you put your head out the window, and without giving a warning, you released your first shot.

Bingo.

Luck seemed to be on your side as the first shot landed on the enemy's wheels, making the car stagger and almost crash. But you didn't stop there, you released another one.

The aim didn't miss, not even once. Seems like the shooting practice with your boyfriend was finally paying off.

Witnessing this through the side mirror, your boyfriend whistled, "That was so f*cking hot, baby!"

You couldn't help but smile at his proud expression, feeling a little bit proud of yourself knowing you just protected and saved you and your boyfriend's lives.

But still, you felt guilty for doing that to your friend.

"Baby, don't feel guilty. He was the one who did it first," he seemed to be able to read your mind at how he knew what was going on inside your head.

You nodded, releasing your negative emotions through a sigh.

Finally, the car reached the finish line.

Everyone who placed their bets on your boyfriend to win cheered, congratulating him whilst they surrounded his figure as soon as he left the car.

He ignored the crowd as he proceeded to walk on the other side of the car, opening it as he led you out.

With his hand placed on your waist, he kissed you passionately in front of the crowd before whispering in your ears, "Baby, I'm gonna kill that bastard tonight, is that okay?"

©vhannilah

#squid game #squid game x reader #choi su-bong #su-bong #reader insert #x reader #female reader #su-bong x reader #choi su-bong x reader #player 230 #player 230 x reader #thanos #thanos x reader #choi su bong #su bong #su bong x reader #choi su bong x reader #vhannilah

622 notes · View notes

vivwritesfics · 1 year ago

Note

u should do like a foursome. where the winners on the podium get to fuck y/n. Like Lando Charles and max. Weird idea oop

18+ ONLY

Warnings: Smut, foursome, eating out, blow jobs, hand jobs, face fucking, spit, swallowing, soft dom!max, hard dom!lando, switch!charles, face riding, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (don't have sex, because you will get pregnant and die), riding, denial, doggy, praise, anal (fucking and fingering), overstimulation, sub space (i suppose)

I tried to include recovery time but i forgot ill be honest

3.4K

Celebrating for Max, Lando and Charles meant one thing: getting drunk in the club.

They'd all spotted her across the dance floor at the same time, swaying her hips with the music, drink in her hands. All three of them wanted her. It should have caused an all out war.

But she noticed them, noticed as the three of them stared. Moving her hips from side to side, she walked over to them, walking over to Lando (as he was standing in the middle).

Her fingers played with the chain around his neck as she looked at the other two boys. She said something, something none of them could hear, and went up onto her tip toes to whisper in each of their ears.

It must have been the alcohol, because they never would have done it sober. Never would have followed her back to her apartment with other drivers beside him.

Max stumbled into her apartment first, hands around her hips as Lando and Charles followed.

His lips were on hers as she kicked off her shoes and reached back to unzip her dress. Once he saw her struggling, Charles walked over to pull the zip down, kissing her neck as he did.

Just lando was left standing there, feeling a little left out. So, she reached out her hand, reaching past max, reaching for the chain around his neck.

When she pulled lando closer, Max began kissing down her neck as she began kissing Lando. She stepped out of her dress without breaking away from anybody, leaving her in her underwear.

Charles couldn't stop himself from cupping her ass. Her eyes shut as he did, letting out a quiet whine.

But still, her underwear was blocking too much of their view. It was gorgeous, sure, but the boys couldn't wait to see it on the floor.

Charles slipped his hands beneath her underwear, still cupping her ass. Lando pushed the straps of her bra down her arms as Max undid the clasp.

As her bra fell away from her body, Max looked away. Not out of politeness, not because he felt like he shouldn't be looking at her in such a state, but to look around her apartment. He looked towards the kitchen, at the counter top.

Suddenly, she was in his arms. Charles and Lando followed as Max placed her on the counter top. She sat there, leaning back on her hands as Max got to his knees.

Immediately Charles and Lando attached themselves to her breasts, each of them taking a nipple between their lips. She threw her head back as they worked, this enough to get her wt. Soaked even.

On his knees Max pulled her underwear away from her body. He discarded it on the kitchen floor and dove right in, kissing her thigh before moving her legs over his shoulders.

He licked and sucked as her folds, tongue swirling around her clit. She let out moans and whines, gripping Charles and Lando's hair as Max's tongue prodded at her hole.

"Holy shit," she gasped, legs shaking around Max's head as he brought her to her first orgasm of the night.

The boys pulled away from her as they stripped down to nothing. Still on the counter, she watched as Lando reached back to unclasp the chain from around his neck. "Leave it," she said and he halted his movements, leaving the chain dangling around his neck.

Curling her finger in a beckoning motion, she led them through the apartment and towards her bedroom. At first the couch was temping, fucking each of them on the cushions, but there wouldn't be space to take all of them.

Grabbing a hold of Lando, Charles and Max, she sat them on her bed and got down onto her knees in front of them. She wrapped her hands around both Max and Lando and held her mouth open for Charles.

It was hard work, moving her hands up and down Max and Lando while working Charles in her mouth in the same rhythm.

But the boys were all moaning as she either sucked or tugged. Out of the three of them, Charles was enjoying it the most, but that was because it was easier for her to concentrate on him.

When it got to be too much, she released her hold on Max and Lando, concentrating all of her efforts on Charles. He gripped her hair as he let out breathy moans, letting his hips stutter as he came in her mouth.

Releasing her hair, Charles laid back, breathless as Y/N swallowed, wiping any excess away from her mouth.

She took time to recover as she moved onto Lando. He was rock hard, vein prominent as it climbed up the side of him.

After a good minute of recovering, she placed her hands on her knees, signalling to him that she was ready.

But Lando had other ideas. He caressed her cheek before placing his hand beneath her chin. "Open wide," he said and she opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out and shutting her eyes.

Something warm and let hit her tongue. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, at the grin he wore as he looked down at her. That was when she realised what he had just done, that she had just swallowed his spit.

And she loved it.

Her jaw ached as she sucked him, moving her mouth up and down his shaft. Her tongue swirled around the tip and ran along the vein. Just like Charles, Lando held her hair. But he didn't just grip onto her, he held her hair as he thrusted his hips forward, effectively fucking her face.

It was aggressive, but she was grateful. She wasn't having to do any of the work with how her jaw was aching, Lando taking complete control.

Tears sprung to her eyes as spit ran down her chin. The noises she was making had the other two looking over, eyes blown wide. They'd never seen Lando, the youngest of them all, so dominating and aggressive. It had Max's arousal getting to painful levels and Charles ready to go again.

Just before Lando came, he pulled her off of his cock, moving his hand up and down his shaft as he pointed towards her chest. She wiped away her tears as he came on her breasts.

Using a finger, she gathered a little bit of cum and put her finger in her mouth as she stared into his eyes, "Holy fuck," Lando hissed as she licked his cum off.

With an aching jaw and painful knees, she shuffled over to Max. "Best saved for last, huh?" He joked.

She swallowed thickly as she put her mouth around him and hollowed her cheeks. Just like the other two, Max gripped her hair, but he pulled her off of him. "Gorgeous," he muttered as he ran his thumb over her bottom lip.

"Charlie," said Max.

As if he already knew what to do, laid down on the floor behind her. He grabbed a hold of her hips and pulled her on top of him, sucking and licking at her folds.

She was hesitant at first, but, after some gentle coaxing from Max, she settled down on his face.

Her eyes closed as Charles worked her like an expert, his tongue flat and broad as he licked her in a long stripe. His tongue played with her clit before he sucked on it.

"That's it," whispered Max as he petted her hair.

As if rejuvenated, she moved her mouth back to Max's cock, sucking in time with Charles's licks. Ignoring the ache in her jaw, she worked back with ferocity, taking him all the way, until her nose was pressed against his pelvic, before pulling back.

Max moaned. He kept a hold of her hair, kept his hips still as his moans filled the apartment. "That's it," he whispered, his eyes squeezed shut.

Suddenly she stopped as she let out a cry, pulling away from Charles. Her legs were shaking as she went up onto her tired knees, and Charles kissed the inside of her thigh one more time before he pulled away from her, leaving her to bring Max to completion.

He wasn't far off, hips stuttering as he held himself at the back of her throat. He spilled inside of her mouth and she eagerly swallowed before lifting off.

Suddenly they pulled her up, dragged her to her feet. "Who do you want first?" Charles asked with a glint in his eye, and Y/N reached for Lando.

The brit was happy to oblige. Max and Charles cleared off the bed as she laid back and Lando climbed on top of her. His necklace hung over her as he grinned, tongue between her teeth.

He leaned down to kiss her, his lips bruising against hers. As he kissed her, he pushed her legs apart, using one hand to hold himself up and the other to part her folds. He held himself as he pushed forward.

She let out a cry as Lando thrust forward. He kept his eyes locked onto her face as he set a pace, slow at first, but his thrusts were still hard. When her only reply were moans, whines, face scrunched up as her eyes shut, Lando sped up his pace. He gripped, his head against her shoulders as his hips snapped against hers.

The sounds of skin against him filled the apartment. Lando moved away from her shoulder, his necklace swaying above her as he fucked her.

Her moans came out hot and heavy as Lando's thrusts sped up, his pace seemingly impossible. She clenched around him as she face scrunched up, bringing her to her third orgasm of the night.

Lando have one last particularly bruising thrust, cumming inside of her. Breathlessly, he pulled away from her, laying on the bed beside her quivering, sweat covered body.

Max was next, but he gave her a moment to recuperate, considering how clearly exhausted she was. She looked at him with half closed eyes, hands resting on her stomach.

After what felt like no time at all, she beckoned Max closer. She stood on her own shaking legs and gestured for him to lay down on the bed before her. He did so, placing his hands behind his head as he grinned up at her.

She sat herself on his midsection, legs on either side of him. She leaned down, kissing him softly. But Max pushed it further, his tongue invading her mouth. She squeaked in surprise, but didn't pull away.

His hands moved from behind his head to hold her ass, his grip so firm it definitely left bruises. She didn't mind though, a reminder of this night was exactly what she needed. No, the memories of this night were never leaving her mind.

She held his cock as Max used his grip on her ass to raise her up.

She lowed down onto him, eyes fluttering shut as her hands rested on his chest. Max was thick within her, her walls clenching around him.

Max grunted as he moved his hips, bouncing her on top of him. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her as her body bounced.

"Come on, pretty girl," he said as he moved. "I want to hear you."

She moved as Max moved her, manhandling her like she was a ragdoll.

Still thrusting up into her, Max moved his hands up to her back, pulling her body down on top of him. He shut his eyes as he sucked her nipple into her mouth.

"Oh my god," she cried, holding herself up high enough for Max to give her tits attention. Max was hyper aware of everything, of the way she clenched around him. "I... I'm-"

But with the way he was fucking her, she couldn't get the words out. To Max, that was reason enough to pull her off of him, leave her dangling on the edge without pushing her over. She cried out as she fell onto the bed beside him, clenching her legs together. "Please," she cried as she reached down, but Max grabbed a hold of her hands, preventing her from sorting herself out.

"No way," he said and brought her hands to his cock. She moved her hands up and down his shaft until he came in her hands. She looked at him with a glare as she licked the cum from her skin.

"Charles," said Max and the Monégasque took his place on the bed. "Don't let her cum," Max said to him as he placed her so that she was sitting on Charles just as she was Max.

As she sank down onto him, tears sprung to her eyes. "Ride him," she heard Lando say as he rested against the wall.

She tried her best, but she was already exhausted. After watching her struggle to bounce, Lando walked over and took charge, bouncing her on top of Charles.

But he quickly got bored and went back to slowly tugging himself as he rested against the wall. Charles looked up at her as she continued to bounce, but he quickly lifted her off of him. He flipped them over, propping her up on her hands and knees as he got behind her.

From that angle, all of them could see just how wet she was. Drenched, with a mess already on the bed beneath her. And they weren't done with her yet.

Charles watched as she shivered when he pushed his finger between her folds. It was a mix of her and everything of Lando's that Max hadn't fucked out of her. He lifted his finger to his lips, tasting it, tasting them. "My turn," he said and pushed into her.

With her hair knotted around his hands, Charles wildly snapped his hips against hers. He held her hip with the other hand, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. Cries and whines and moans left her lips as he fucked her into the mattress.

But then Charles let go of her hair. His pace slowed as he squeezed her ass, pulling her cheeks apart. His thumb ran over her hole, not quite pushing in. That's where he'd be in a matter of moments. "There's lube in the drawer," she said through her gasps of ecstasy.

Max reached into the drawer and pulled out the bottle of lube. He coated his fingers and reached between the bodies of her and Charles. "That's it," he said as he gently pushed his index finger inside of her hole, going up to his knuckle. "Good girl."

Her eyes were squeezed shut as Max pushed his finger in and out of her hole. "You're doing so good for us," said Charles, his thrusts matching the slow pace of Max's fingers.

Her moans turns into incoherent babbling and Max pushed Charles away before she could cum. He worked in another finger, his free hand on her as as he stroked her soft skin. "Good girl," he whispered again, speeding up his thrusts. "I'll need to get one more in, okay?"

He kept trusting, but he kept to two fingers as he waited for her to nod into her pillow. "Use words, gorgeous," he said.

It was a struggle, but she managed to get the words out, to tell him how much she wanted it.

She cried out at the stretch as Max words one last finger in. "Good girl," he said once again as he thrust in and out, opening her up. "Think you're ready for us?"

Again, she nodded and Max realised words were going to be too much for her. He pulled his fingers out and laid himself down on the bed, manhandling her back on top of him, just as she was before. With a hiss she sank back down onto his cock, feeling familiar inside of her.

"Hold onto me," said Max as Charles climbed into the bed behind her.

She placed her forehead on Max's shoulder, squeezing him tight as Charles pulled her cheeks apart again. He held himself as he pushed towards her tight hole, slowly pushing in.

The feeling was indescribable as Charles pushed all the way in. She cried out, biting down onto Max's folder at the burn. "Fuck," Charles hissed, his forehead thrown back as his eyes shut.

Only Lando was left. He stood just to the left of them, in the perfect place for her to reach over and suck him off. He stood ready, but she wasn't, not yet.

Charles had to set the pace, his thrusts being the thing to move her on top of Max. It took a while to get used to, before she could turn her attention to Lando. But he understood, that was clear by the way he stroked her hair.

Charles picked up the pace and she moved away from Max's shoulder, taking Lando into her mouth.

Sucking him off was a real challenge as she was rocked between Max and Charles. Her eyes were squeezed shut as Lando held her head, fucking her face once again.

It was all too much and she came for the fourth time. The three men held her up as they fucked into all three of her holes, using her until they came.

Lando came first, pulling out of her mouth as she swallowed. She looked up at him, still rocking between Max and Charles, her expression completely fucked out. Max was next, cumming inside of her. He didn't pull out though, staying inside of her while Charles continued to snap his hips against hers.

Charles's jaw was clenched as he gave a few last thrusts, cumming inside of her ass. He pulled away, watching as he leaked out of her. She fell onto the bed, out of breath as she looked up at the three men.

As Charles put a blanket over her, Max and Lando walked through her apartment, searching for her bathroom. When they found it they ran the bath for her, getting it to a suitable temperature before they went back into the bedroom.

"Think you can walk?" Charles asked her as he ran his fingers through her hair.

She shook her head and Charles nodded, easily picking her up and following Max and Lando into the bathroom.

3K notes · View notes

cosmicalily · 1 month ago

Text

"santa baby" - a jisung oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: san-ta, ba-by !! (i'm such a lauver and have such bad baby fever rn, that's all the context you get!)

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of sickness

“I can’t believe you’re still sick on Christmas Eve,” Jisung pouted, gently running a hand through your hair. He stroked your warm cheek, eyes sad, and you offered him a weak smile.

“I’m sorry Ji, I know we had so many plans,” you sighed, snuggling into him. “Don’t let me stop you. You should still go ice skating with the boys; I’m happy to stay at home, I promise.”

“I don’t wanna,” he whined, sliding down the headboard and further under the covers. Anyone else would keep their distance from someone who’d been nauseous for the past week, but you being under the weather only made Jisung clingier. He wanted to take care of you and stay by your side, making sure you were okay every single second of the day, even when you assured him you just needed a glass of water and a good nap.

Despite your slightly more fragile state, the past few weeks in preparation for Christmas had been oh so cosy and domestic, filled with shopping for gifts (although the two of you ended up with more for each other than your friends and family), comfort food at home in front of the tv, watching Elf approximately 12 times (it was Jisung’s ride-or-die Christmas movie, there was no talking him out of it). Something about the colder season meant the two of you were even more inseparable than usual, always needing an arm or a leg thrust over the other to share a little body heat. Although, right now, with Jisung’s face nestled into your neck and his arms around your waist, you were scorching.

“Baby, I’m really hot right now,” you groaned, trying to push him away. Being the clingy menace he was, he simply held you closer, and you sighed.

“Ji, if you don’t let go, I’m probably gonna throw up,” you said, opting for a more direct approach. That got his brain working, knocking him out of his loved-up mind fog. He snapped up, sitting up straight and looking at you intently, brows furrowed with concern.

“Actually?” he asked worriedly.

“Maybe,” you replied, feeling a little bad for scaring him. But you were feeling nauseous, and it had only been getting worse the past few days. You hoped that by tomorrow you’d feel a little better.

Even if it wasn’t physically, you hoped that Jisung’s excitement, something you anticipated in response to the surprise you had for him, would perk you up.

“I’m gonna get you some chamomile,” he declared, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead and scrambling out of the bedroom, leaving you feeling a little dazed. You felt warm, probably from the slight fever, but also because of him.

He was gonna be the best dad.

“I have something for you,” you said suddenly, grabbing the remote and pressing pause on the movie you hadn’t really been paying attention to. The two of you were sprawled on the sofa, Jisung’s head in your lap as you played with his hair. The room was dim and warm, fairy lights sparkling, and it felt magical, yet familiar.

He raised his head curiously. “But it’s not Christmas morning yet,” he replied, looking confused, and you laughed at him.

“I know. It’s not a proper present; it’s more the promise of one,” you explained vaguely, leaning over the armrest of the sofa and handing him a small box.

Jisung raised an eyebrow, then undid the plaid ribbon, opening the box and retrieving a note. “Unfortunately, these things tend to take a while to arrive, but I promise you’ll have it by August! Love you, sweet boy.” Jisung read aloud, then gave you a strange look, thinking it was some weird prank and expecting you to giggle. However, to his surprise, your eyes were a little glassy, and you reached to hold his hand.

Giving it a gentle squeeze as he unfolded the tissue paper one handed, he found a small stick buried at the bottom. A white plastic one.

With two lines on it.

“Oh my god,” Jisung breathed, holding it closer and then dropping it in shock. “Oh my god, is this real?”

“Why do you think I’ve been feeling so crap the past few days?” you giggled in response, but tears were now rolling down your cheeks. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I thought it would make the perfect surprise.”

“Oh my god,” Jisung repeated, for once lost for words. He suddenly reached forward, cupping your cheeks with his hands and pressing your foreheads together. “I can’t believe it. I’m so happy, baby, you don’t even know. I’ve been wanting this for so long for us.” Then he paused, scrunching up his nose and dropping the test. "Ew. I can't believe I just touched a stick that you peed on."

“Shut up, that's the only way to find out, dumbass. And I know you have, you’re not subtle,” you chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m so glad I get to do this with you, Ji. You’re going to be the best dad.”

He beamed, eyes shiny, then yanked up your tank top. You squealed in shock, but was placated when he pressed a soft kiss to your belly, looking up at you wistfully.

“Are you gonna call the boys and tell them your news?” you asked, running a hand through his hair as he rested his cheek against your stomach.

“Later,” he said, closing his eyes. “Just wanna be with you right now. And our baby.”

412 notes · View notes

ofstarsandvibranium · 2 months ago

Text

Stuck in the Moment

Fandom: Marvel (CEO AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It was just supposed to be a regular day at work. But a huge storm hit the city. The power goes out and you're stuck inside the elevator with an incredibly attractive man. So with nothing else to do, you two get to know each other while waiting to be rescued.

A/N: technically, CEO's son AU but whatever

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You quickly close your umbrella and rush inside. Even with the umbrella and a raincoat, you're still partially drenched.

A storm has hit the city. You hear the occasional roar of thunder and flash of lightning, raindrops pelting against the pavement and windows of your work building.

You flash your badge and walk through security. You shoot a smile to Stan, one of the older security guards, "Keeping warm, Stan?"

"As best as I can, Y/N!" he replies, zipping up his jacket further up towards his neck.

You gather with the group of people in front of the elevators. Two doors open, and people start filing in. Both elevators fill up quick, so you decide to hang back and wait for the next one.

You hear someone approach you and they sigh. A soothing, deep voice follows, "Jeez. Did not mentally prepare myself for this much rain."

You turn your head, your eyes meeting striking blue ones. The owner of the voice is as handsome as he sounds. You chuckle and quickly look away, "I know. Even with my umbrella and raincoat, I still wasn't as prepared for this storm."

"I forgot an umbrella hence," he gestures to his drenched suit jacket.

You snort, "Gotta keep a small, compact one with you at all times around this time of year. Never know when a storm will happen."

"Definitely going to follow your advice," he says with a grin.

The elevator door nearest you opens and he gestures, "After you."

"Thanks," you reply, stepping inside and the handsome man filing in behind you. You press the fifth button while he presses the eleventh.

You can't help but comment, "You must be a high profile person if you're going to the top."

The man shyly shrugs, "I suppose," he nods to the fifth button, "You're in the marketing department?"

"Yup. I'm part of the social media team."

"Ah. You guys get to have all the fun."

You giggle, "It's not all fun, but, yeah, we do like-"

The elevator slows, but not because it's approaching your floor. The light's flicker and the elevator creaks to a halt. Your body sways at the stop. The lights flicker again and then you're engrossed in darkness.

You groan out in annoyance, "Oh come on!"

The man with you takes out his phone and turns the flash on. He faces it to the ceiling, illuminating the elevator, "You okay?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Same," he sighs, "Guess the storm created a power outage. Might be some time until the power comes back or until we're rescued."

"Great."

Your phone starts to buzz and you pull it out of your bag. You answer it, "Kate?"

"Hey! Are you at work already 'cause looks like the entire building is experiencing a power outage."

"Yuuup and I was unfortunate enough to be riding the elevator when the power went out."

"Shit. Okay, what floor are you on?"

"I think we're in-between three and four."

"Oh good, you're not alone!"

"Nope. I'm with-" you pause, and look to the man, "Sorry, I never got your name."

"Bucky."

"Hey, Bucky. I'm Y/N. I'd say 'nice to meet you' but I wouldn't call our current situation 'nice'"

He chuckles, "I get it and likewise."

"Who the hell is Bucky? I've never heard of a Bucky before."

"Not now, Kate. Anyway, I should probably save as much of my phone battery as possible. Keep me updated on the power and such."

"Will do! Stay safe and don't die!"

You snort, "I'll try not to." You end the call and look back at Bucky.

"Since you're probably like an executive or something, do you happen to have contact to any other higher ups about this power outage?"

He nods and gestures to his phone, "Getting several text messages from people. I've let them know we're stuck here and they've already contacted the fire department. But considering the storm and everything, might take them a while to get here."

"So guess we have to get comfortable," you set your bag down and slip off your raincoat. You set it on the floor and sit on it. Bucky looks at you with a cocked brow and you shrug, "What? The floor's wet!"

Bucky chuckles to himself and finds a dry spot in the corner. He slides down the wall to sit on the floor, "So, Y/N from Marketing, tell me your life story." You look at him confused and he shrugs, "Might as well get to know each other since we might be stuck here for a while."

______________________________

Within the first hour, learn that Bucky is the eldest sibling and he has a younger sister. His best friends are named Steve and Sam. He's a huge nerd that loves Star Wars and Star Trek. He went to Columbia University to study business, which is why he's now working here.

You told him about your childhood, that you and your best friend, Yelena, moved to the city for school and ended up staying. You express your passion for social media marketing and, ultimately, how you ended up working for Barnes Co., thanks to Yelena's sister, Nat.

"How long have you been working here?" Bucky asks you.

"It's going to be my two year anniversary in a few months."

Bucky slowly nods, "Can't believe you've been here for two years and I've never seen you around."

You give him a shrug, "It's a big building. Lots of people work here. Besides, you work with the higher ups, so I doubt you'd even see me around."

You take this moment to look over him with the minimal lighting you have. He clearly makes a lot of money from what you can tell. His shoes and suit are obviously designer. Hugo Boss or Armani or something. His watch is definitely a Rolex and probably costs more than your entire life.

Bucky shakes his head, "I know, but I do try my best to get to know everyone who works here. The company is what it is because of everyone who works here, not just the CEO, CFOs, and executives."

"That's nice to hear, Bucky. I mean, I knew that this company really values its employees, but to hear someone close to the top say so, is really reassuring."

He shyly chuckles, "Well, uh, yeah, um," he clears his throat, "So, uh, you seeing anyone?" he winces at how unsmooth that came out.

But you chuckle, "Are you asking me out?"

"Me? No, no. Just, ya know, we talked about our childhood, our jobs, only topic we haven't hit is our love lives. Besides, it'll probably a little bit longer until we're rescued. They're working on getting the people on the first two floors out first." Bucky does his best to be as nonchalant as possible and you find it so adorable. You never expected a guy like him to be a little shy.

"Riiiight. Well, I've dated, been in a few relationships, but nobody's really stuck around for long. Kind of getting tired of the whole dating game, so haven't really put much thought into relationships lately. What about you?"

He nervously rubs the back of his neck, "I, uh, hate to say that I dated around a lot when I was younger. Not super proud of myself for that. But as I grew older, started wanting a more stable relationship. Was in one for a long time with a woman. Thought we were going to get married and everything, but then I found out she stuck around because of my growing wealth so-"

"Yikes."

"Yeah. Went back to dating and sleeping around and it got old again quicker than before. I guess I'm kind of like you, focusing on myself and work. Doing my best to just survive in the world."

You slowly nod, "Well, what a pair we make, huh? I mean, look at us," you gesture to yourself and him, "Stuck in an elevator, sharing our life stories, getting to know each other. Honestly, thought a situation like this would be so much worse, but I'm glad it was you that got stuck with me in this situation."

Bucky laughs, "Same here."

"Buck?" you hear a muffled voice from the other side of the elevator doors.

"Dad?!"

"Yeah, you guys okay in there?"

"We're okay!"

"Good! The fire department's here. They're getting you guys out. Just hang tight!"

"Not like we can go anywhere!" Bucky replies and you laugh. He grins at you as you wait for the doors to pry open.

______________________

The entire building was evacuated. Several people stayed back to make sure everyone was safe. Nat and Kate stayed in the lobby waiting for you to be rescued.

When you exited the stairs door, they rushed over to you.

"Holy shit, are you okay?!"

"Yeah. Me and Bucky just hung out that entire time," you gesture to the man who follows behind you.

Nat looks over your shoulder and her eyes widen, "You were stuck in the elevator with James Barnes?"

"James?" you turn to face Bucky as he approaches you, "I thought your name is Bucky."

He nervously clears his throat, "Uh, well, kinda. Technically, my name is James Buchanan Barnes, but those closest to me call me Bucky."

Your realization has your eyes widen and you take a step back, "You're George Barnes' son."

He sheepishly waves, "Hi."

"Well...that's...cool." You didn't know what to say, honestly. You're a little surprised by the reveal. You quickly go through the info that Bucky shared with you in the elevator shaft. He never mentioned his dad or anything that could hint at the position he holds. He deliberately held that info from you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Bucky says with a guilty expression on his face.

You shake your head, "No, it's-it's fine. I mean, I knew you worked a high position but didn't think...that high."

He snorts, "Yeah, um, I just hope you don't see me differently."

"Not at all. I met you as Bucky, the sci-fi nerd who sucks at flirting, so that's how I see you."

"Sucks at flirting? Yeesh, guess that's what happens when I haven't dated in a while."

You laugh, "Happens to the best of us."

"Son, you ready?" George Barnes approaches Bucky.

"Yeah," he nods to his dad and looks back at you, "See you around, Y/N."

"See ya," you give him a small wave and turn back to Kate and Nat. They look at you like you grew another head, "What?"

"The son of George Barnes, James Barnes, son of the CEO of Barnes Co., was flirting with you?!"

You scoff, "I wouldn't really say he was flirting with me. More like attempting to flirt. It doesn't matter. Not like he'd actually want to date someone like me," you shrug it off and pull on your raincoat, "Ready to go?"

_____________________

Everyone was working from home the following day to ensure that the building was safe to occupy when the power came back.

The weather is still poor but not as bad as the day before. Still, you decide to step outside, choosing a cafe to work from rather than your shared apartment with Yelena.

You’re answering emails while sipping on a warm beverage when you get a new message on Slack from James Barnes:

JB: You’re looking cozy over there in your corner.

You immediately look around and spot him on the opposite side of the cafe. When your eyes meet his, he gives a wave. He quickly gathers his things and you keep your eyes on him as he moves across the cafe to your table.

“May I join you?”

“If you’d like.”

He sits across from you and you lower your laptop screen, “Not gonna lie, kinda creepy that you did that, Barnes.”

He shyly shrugs, “I guess I really do need to brush up on my flirting hm?”

You giggle, “Yeah, I suppose you do.”

“Maybe I can practice with you?”

You give him a coy look, “I guess you can.”

#Bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky imagine #Bucky Barnes imagine #CEO AU #marvel imagine #marvel AU

577 notes · View notes

pshaven · 1 year ago

Note

enhypen making YOU lose nnn ?

OUUUUHHHHH. this is good. i love this. ur mind needs to be studied

cw! fwb with heeseung, established relationship with jay and sunghoon, riding, oral (f & m receiving), doggy, reader gets called slutty girl, princess, jay brat tamer hehe, hoon is evil, lmk if i missed anything!

이희승 heeseung ᥫ᭡

as you’re heeseung’s number one fuck buddy… well, he’s not very ecstatic about your decision to join the nnn challenge. he thought it’d be okay at first– he has other people to attend to while you’re busy. he actually discovered something new about himself thanks to your personal challenge: he can only go a few days without you. he really did try to distract himself with other hookups but they just aren’t you! no pussy felt like yours, and no one moaned his name the same like you do. so now he has his own personal challenge: to make you lose nnn! he thinks it’d be a piece of cake, really. because have you seen him? how can you resist him?

turns out pretty well, much to his dismay. he disguises his mission as an innocent “wanna watch some movies tonight?” to come over. you, in skimpy top and flimsy shorts that you typically like to wear when staying in. he thinks– knows– he’ll have a hard time keeping his hands to himself. and you’ve always been such a good girl, so you’ll obey him this time again, right?

it starts off with just a hand on your thigh, and even though you give him a side eye he pretends he doesn’t notice, eyes too focused on whatever movie you decided to put on. he notices when your thighs tense each time his hand inches close to your clothed cunt, and it’s so slow– you guys have probably burned through two movies already but heeseung wants to take his time, see how long you can really resist him.

you’re doing too well, and the space in his pants is beginning to tighten up the more you tense your thighs… he swears he can feel the heat radiate off your cunt, he knows you’re wet… you just have to be! by the third movie, he’s done playing around with you and grabs the remote out of your hand, “how ‘bout i give you something else to hold?”

“knew i could get you to cave- ah, shit!” heeseung cursed, hands on your waist as you bounce up and down on his cock. you whine, nails scratching his chest to leave marks that will definitely last for days.

“i hate you!” you squeal at one particular thrust when he bucks his hips into you, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. his eyes are focused on your entrance taking his length in, brows furrowed in concentration as he lets out a breathy chuckle. “heh, not enough or you wouldn’t be cumming on me right now.”

박종성 jay ᥫ᭡

he is such a good sport about it, honestly. he’s an amazing boyfriend, at that! he makes sure he avoids doing anything particularly sexy around you (but let’s be for real, anything he does is sexy). he encourages you and does his best to avoid any particular advances that you put on him during no nut november because he knows that once he reciprocates it, it’s over for you. so you do get a lot of no’s and don’t even think about it throughout the month… but he thinks you’ll thank him by the end of the month.

wrong. you’re extra bratty in particular today (november 27th), trying to tease him and tempt him when you rub your palm against his bulge during game night with the other members. he has a good poker face… for maybe ten minutes until he’s rock hard in his sweats underneath the blanket that you both are sharing. you’re stifling your giggles behind his back, occasionally popping in some commentary of the game so the members don’t get too suspicious on why you’re so quiet.

old habits die hard, so how else is he supposed to act when you’re being bratty?

“you only had three more days left, princess,” jay taunts in your ear, his hand on your back to bend you over the sink counter. you whine, but you shaking your ass tells him exactly what you wanted. “guess this slutty pussy just can’t live without me, huh?”

you nod your head repeatedly, “mhm! can’t get enough- wan’ your cock now~” you moan when he slides down your bottoms, hand slapping your ass in the process. he’s a weak man for you, and honestly he’s been dying without your warmth around him for almost an entire month so he’s impatient as well.

jay reaches for your neck, lifting your head up towards him so that your back is arching. “could’ve just stayed a good girl and lasted the whole month,” he mutters into your shoulder as he slides himself in your tight entrance, both of you releasing a long sigh of relief.

심재윤 jake ᥫ᭡

okay… he definitely set himself up for failure when he proposed that you both do the nnn challenge together. he thought it would be soooo funny and easy! not even twenty four hours passed and he already regretted it, seeing you prance around in some cute shorts that leaves half your ass hanging out and a loose shirt that clearly shows your perky nipples. he really hates having a roommate that is as hot as you– maybe nnn wouldn’t be such a challenge then.

you’re determined to get your assignment done as you sit on the couch next to jake, typing away at your laptop while he merely scrolls through his phone, occasionally (every five seconds actually) staring at your tits through your t-shirt like he has x-ray vision. he clears his throat, mindlessly letting some random tiktok play as he begins to zone out, letting his mind think about him wrapping his lips around your pert nipples as he rubs you through your stupid excuse that you call a pair of shorts.

“you’re hard.” you comment after hearing the same tiktok play for over seven times. “it’s like you want to lose no nut november?” you tease before shifting your attention back to your laptop. jake clears his throat again, shifting in his seat when your words snap him out of his daze. “want to help me lose?”

“slutty girl- ah fuck- can’t say no to some dick, yeah?” jake muses as you choke down on his cock, saliva dripping out from the corner of your lips. you moan around him, your hand around his length tightening a bit at his words that causes him to curse underneath his breath.

you go particularly deep, a small reward for him when his fingers inside you speed up. he has you on all fours on the couch, his long arm reaching your cunt as he scissors his fingers inside of you. if he’s going to lose, he’ll lose with you. “f-fuck, you’re so good ‘n so wet for me, huh?” he taunts, your juices squelching from his fingers and sloppy mouth working on his cock.

“oh, you cummin’ already? roomie… didn’t know you were this sensitive. so cute,” he hums, slowing his fingers down as he works you through your orgasm. but he’s talking as if he isn’t five seconds away from cumming down your throat.

박성훈 sunghoon ᥫ᭡

he thinks it’s cute you want to do the nnn challenge! but he also thinks it’s cute that you think you can resist him for an entire month. the exact opposite of jay– he makes it his personal mission to make you lose. he’s such a bad boyfriend, making you exceptionally horny, especially the first night after you tell him about your little goal to accomplish this challenge. he’s playing with you in bed, the hands on your waist not so discreetly creeping up to your chest. you have to physically detach his hands away from you so you don’t start acting up.

the next morning is even worse– he’s stepping out of the shower and into your shared bedroom with only a towel that is barely hanging on his waistline. your mouth goes dry, your attention completely stolen away from your phone and onto sunghoon. “you sick bastard,” you curse under your breath, but it doesn’t go unheard by your sneaky boyfriend. “you could just… i dunno, lose right now,” he mumbles, going over to you as he nuzzles your neck. you’re doing much better than he thought when you push him away with a stern and determined look on your face.

but in the end, he’s always right. and you give in like a child who’s offered some more playtime if they complete their homework. but he really didn’t expect you to give in when he’s doing something so basic, cooking dinner for you when you come back late from uni or work. but it gives him an ego boost either way.

“can’t believe you got turned on from me cooking,” he snickers as he lifts his head up from in between your thighs. you roll your eyes, your grip on his hair tightening as you pull him back into your cunt. “i-it was the domestic-ness of it, okay? just shut up and make me lose already,” you pout.

he groans, sliding his fingers inside of you with ease, thanks to his own work. “you already did… approximately one minute ago. but i guess i can make you lose twice,” he grins before he latches his mouth onto your sensitive bud.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #heeseung smut #jay smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen hard thoughts

2K notes · View notes

carakook · 11 months ago

Text

Shut Up .・。.・゜✭・.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

“If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

🔞FOR MATURE AUDIENCES🔞

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Synopsis: After taking a job as a co-writer, you quickly find that you and your “boss” just don’t get along. Constantly butting heads, disagreeing on things, and he isn’t even nice about it. He’s a fucking dick. He’s always criticizing you in embarrassing ways, but you’ve tried to be patient, ride it out. Over the short time you’ve worked here, the tension has built quickly, and it is clear both of you cannot stand each other. Unfortunately, today is the day you reach your limit after he humiliates you in front of several of your coworkers… and the “conflict resolution” is definitely something you did not expect.

Genre: Enemies to lovers (or hookup in this case), workplace affair.

Pairings: Boss/Writer!Namjoon x Co-writer!Reader

Word count: 7.5k+

Warnings: 18+, Heavy smut!! Hate sex, protected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, face fucking, light slapping (not in the face), a bit of spit play, face fucking, cussing, crying (sort of), heavy conflict, degradation, arguing, name calling, a bit of teasing, cum eating? (Sort of), dry humping, face humping, being slapped with dick (lightly), Let me know if I missed anything!

⚠Disclaimer⚠:This story does not in any way reflect the character of those who are mentioned, it is totally fiction and just for fun. Please don’t take it seriously.

A/N: Hiiii! This is my first one shot. I’ve actually had it in my drafts for a long time but never posted it, I decided to finish it recently and post it here. I hope you like it! I love writing, have soooo many drafted one shots/full on fanfics with each of the boys. A looot of them are with Jungkook, can’t help myself. He’s my lover… 😭 Anyway, if you guys end up liking this I’ll post more. Thank you so much for reading if you do!

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There aren’t many things you regret in life. Because if you allow yourself to regret things, you overthink. Overthinking is never a good thing.

See, it wasn’t awful at first. But the moment you met Kim Namjoon, you could tell he had a problem with you. What? You didn’t know. You still don’t know. But he never bothered hiding it.

You powered through, because this was sort of like a dream job for you. You loved writing music, writing lyrics. It was hard to even find a job like this to begin with. So when you got the callback, you jumped at the chance. You were so excited to be working here, and you were familiar with Kim Namjoon. You thought his songs were beautiful, his writing style seemed similar to yours.

Boy, you were wrong.

Not even a week into working here he was heavily criticizing you. But again… you pushed through. Because you were new, he had a right to be picky. This was his studio, he was technically your boss… technically. So you tried to be patient and listen to his criticism.

Which didn’t last long. Because he was not subtle. Arguably, there is a difference between constructive criticism and being blatantly rude and picky. Namjoon was straight-up rude. And at times it was embarrassing.

Nothing you did seemed to satisfy him. Every single time you brainstormed with him and the team, he disagreed with you. Every time you proposed lyrics, he rejected your ideas. Every time you so as much opened your mouth, he had an issue with what you had to say.

You tried to be patient… you genuinely did. But you don’t like feeling disrespected or embarrassed. And you certainly don’t take shit from anyone. So the last two weeks you’ve both been bickering, and the tension is noticeable not only to you and Namjoon but to the entire damn team.

The worst part about it all? You are so fucking attracted to him. He makes your tummy swoop with butterflies. He smells good. He’s tall, his dimples are fucking adorable, and his body… god, he is to die for. The sexual tension is prominent.

If only he wasn’t such a dick.

Today pushed you to your limits. Never in your life have you been more embarrassed.

It all started with a song he was working on. He played the beat, and immediately you were inspired. You got excited. Your attitude was bright, and you immediately jotted the lyrics down on your paper when they came to mind. You seriously thought today would be the day he’d be proud. He would agree. You felt good about it.

Only for him to burst out laughing when he read the lyrics. That wasn’t even the worst part. It’s bad enough that he laughed at you in front of the entire team. But what he said next is what made you lose your shit.

“Oh- shit. You’re serious?”

He stared at you for a moment, taking in your very irritated expression. And then he fucking laughed again.

“Fuck, Y/N. I thought this was a joke. God, I wish it was a joke because it would be hilarious if it was. It sounds like a fucking kids-bop song. You can’t be serious.”

And that’s when all hell broke loose.

You went off on him. In front of everyone. For three minutes straight you cursed him out, waived your hands around, and made it clear how much you cannot stand him and how rude he has been. How humiliated you feel. You’ve always been praised for your writing, so why the fuck doesn’t he like it? You are fucking pissed.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to cuss your boss out in front of everyone… but at this point, you don’t care. If he gets you fired by the company, oh-fucking-well.

Namjoon stares at you for a moment once you’re done. Your chest is heaving, your cheeks are red, and your brows are furrowed angrily. Clearly, he didn’t expect your outburst. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is tense, it even does the little tick thing that drives you crazy. Fuck him for being so hot. Fuck him for being so damn hot and such a dick.

He raises a brow at you, tongue in cheek, making that angry face that would be incredibly attractive if it weren’t directed at you. He lets out an angry huff of air before speaking.

“Studio. Now.”

He points at his studio as he says this as if you’re too stupid to understand his words. This pisses you off even more.

“You’re not my fucking boss.”

He scoffs at you, briefly smiling at your bold choice of words. You infuriate him just as much as he infuriates you.

“Actually, Y/N, I am. Studio. Now.”

You know that technically, he is your boss. But you refuse to listen to him after how humiliated he made you feel. In front of everyone, how dare he speak to you this way? Regardless of his weird hate for you. Besides, he can’t fire you. He may be able to request it, but you know that he won’t. From what you’ve heard, It took forever to fill this position. He was picky when it came to hiring someone… which makes this more confusing. You can’t figure out what his issue is with you, especially when he is the one who helped pick you for the job. Regardless, you know that he doesn’t have the patience to do it again. He’s full of shit.

You stand your ground. You won’t back down this time. You’re tired of the disrespect.

“No, Namjoon. Whatever you want to say, you can say it here. You’ve already embarrassed me, so go ahead, do it some more. I’m sure you get off on it.”

No longer smiling, his gaze is dark. He’s pissed. Now he’s a bit embarrassed… that’s what he gets.

“I won’t ask again. You can march your ass upstairs, or I can carry you. Your choice.”

You say nothing, surely he wouldn’t do that. He’s bluffing. Regardless of how harsh he has been towards you, you know that he wouldn’t cross that line. You hope that he doesn’t. The last thing that you want is for him to touch you. Not because he makes you uncomfortable, but because you already have enough dirty thoughts about him. You hate him, yet he turns you on in a way you’ve never felt. Lust driven by pure hatred, it’s a dangerous thing.

But of course, you were wrong, and he never ceases to surprise you. Never underestimate Kim Namjoon.

You stay silent, secretly hoping that he will just back down and continue the brainstorming session. But is Kim Namjoon the type of man to back down? No. He never has been.

He strides over to you quickly, taking big steps in your direction, causing you to miss your chance to run.

He swiftly grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder, his fingers digging into your thighs. You don’t even have time to react before he starts carrying you upstairs to the studio. He has no trouble doing so either, carrying you as if you weigh nothing.

You come to your senses and swat at his back while you yell profanities at him, demanding that he put you down, threatening to report him, and telling him that he’ll be fired by morning if he doesn’t stop.

But you know that he won’t. This company would never side with you, no matter what Namjoon did. They relied on him. They didn’t rely on you. You were replaceable, even if it would be difficult. Namjoon is not replaceable.

“Resume the session. If you finish before we’re done, you’re free to go. This may take a while. Don’t interrupt us.”

Hurried nods are sent in his direction, no one dares protest him or intervene. Cowards.

He kicks the door open to the studio, entering with ease, making sure not to hit your head on the doorframe as he walks in. You wish he would have hit your head, knocked you out, hell even thrown you over the staircase. Anything to avoid this humiliation he has cursed you with. You almost wish you would’ve just kept your damn mouth shut.

But the damage is done now. No point in backing down.

He throws you roughly on the couch sitting opposite his desk and then closes the door, locking it before facing you.

You glare at him, chest heaving, heart beating out of your chest. You’re just as pissed as he is. Yet, you still find yourself clenching your thighs together, irritated at the fact that he turns you on so much. You shouldn’t be horny right now… yet you are. The way he squeezed your thighs… fuck. Fuck him. God, fuck him to hell. You hate him.

“What the fuck was that?” You nearly growl at him.

He stands in front of you, arms crossed, looking down on you as if you’re nothing more than a pesky roach that he wants to squash.

“I told you, you could walk, or I could carry you. You made your choice, clearly.”

Fuck him.

“Fuck you, Namjoon. This is ridiculous.”

He laughs. He laughs at you.

Fuck him.

“You are ridiculous, Y/N. Why are you even here, if you can’t take criticism?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I can take criticism, constructive criticism, something that you are apparently incapable of giving. You’re so fucking mean to me and I’ve done NOTHING to you.”

“No, I-“

You cut him off, unable to control your mouth.

“And another thing, it’s only me that you speak to this way. I’ve yet to see you speak to anyone else the way that you do me. What is your issue with me, why do you hate me so much?”

“Maybe if you-“

You cut him off again, and his jaw does the tick thing. He’s getting angrier, but you do not give a fuck.

“No, this isn’t on me. I earned my spot here, I was hired for a reason, and everyone else respects me, why don’t you?”

“Because-“

Again.

Fuck him.

“There is no reason, you obviously have some sort of sick vendetta against me. You’re fucking insufferable!”

“Me? No, you-“

Again.

And he’s had enough.

“No, fuck you Namjoon, fuck you and this weird ass game you’re playing, you—“

He borderline growls before he pins you on the couch.

You don’t even have time to register what he’s doing, and if you did, you’d slap the shit out of him.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

His lips crash into yours as he hovers over you, one knee perched in between your legs, while his other leg steadies him. He grabs your face with force, so rough that you swear he could break your jaw if he gripped you any harder. His other hand is on the back of the couch, steadying him the same and pinning you in place.

The kiss is no different. His lips assault yours, and he wastes no time in forcing his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you with vigor. A kiss unlike any you’ve ever experienced before. You’ve only ever been kissed like this in your dreams, the same dreams that wake you up in the middle of the night leaving you touch-starved. It’s fucking aggressive and rough.

And of course, you kiss him back. You don’t want to. Yet you do. You don’t want to give in to him. But you do. You can’t help it. As soon as he made his move, you were under his control. He has that way about him, he’s easily able to affect people. You were a different story. You always defied him, disagreed with him, challenged him. Yet, this is the way that he tames you, even if only for a minute. Shit. You’re weaker than you thought.

He nips your bottom lip before pulling back, your jaw still in his grip. His nostrils are flared and his breathing is rigid, as if he’s just as shocked as you are at his actions.

And he is. He has no idea why he just kissed you. He has no idea what came over him. He just wanted you to shut the fuck up, and he acted on impulse. And now he has a raging hard-on, which pisses him off even more. He doesn’t want to want you, in the same way that you don’t want to want him. But you both do.

He whispers, searching your face, studying your reaction.

“Do you ever just shut the fuck up and listen?”

You clear your throat, still trying to come down from the rush of the kiss, adrenaline running through your veins.

“I-“

“Do you know how fucking irritated you make me?”

Suddenly, you have no fight left in you. You feel intimidated. Fuck him.

“Then why-“

“Am I gonna have to kiss you every time you need to shut the fuck up?”

You blink at him, unable to respond. You have no idea what to do, or how to react, and are becoming distracted by the puddle seeping between your thighs.

You haven’t had sex in over a year. You haven’t been able to grow interest in someone enough to give them that piece of yourself again. Your last situation-ship left you simply sick of men. Sex wasn’t appealing enough to go through that again. But, of course, as if the universe is punishing you, Namjoon awakens your sex drive.

You nervously bite your lip and clench your thighs, not even realizing what you’re doing. You’re on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger and lust. And this doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon.

He looks down at your thighs, and you immediately unclench them. Your cheeks betray you by reddening, thanks to the smirk that very clearly gives away that he knows exactly what you’re feeling right now.

He keeps his eyes on your thighs for a moment before looking up at you. He smirks, raising a brow, giving you a crooked smile that tells you he knows your dirty little secret. Your jaw is still firmly in his grasp.

“Is that it? You’re sexually frustrated? Is that why you’re being such a bitch?”

You try to wriggle from his grasp, embarrassed, angry, horny. You’re starting to wish he would just fire you. Anything to save you the embarrassment of his knowing glare.

“Fuck you.”

He chuckles, bringing his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath touch your lips.

“Yeah? Fuck me? If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

You blink at him again and say nothing. You want to protest, tell him how gross he is, tell him how much you hate him, tell him that he’s the worst. Yet, his idea just makes you hornier. You’ve never had hate sex, and oh fuck, you’re sure that it would improve your mood, even some of the tension between you two.

But it pains you to even admit that. It’s humiliating. He has humiliated you enough.

He moves his hand to the back of your head, angling it upwards so that he has better access to your neck. He places his lips on your jaw, running his teeth up it, leading to the crook of your neck, keeping his lips on you as he speaks his next words.

He grabs your wrist with his other hand, leading it to his crotch, coaxing you to feel him. And he’s hard. So hard that you’re certain a button will break on his jeans. Fuck. He feels giant… You’re so fucked.

“Do you see what you do to me? Never in my life have I had anyone piss me off to the point of getting a fucking boner.”

You can’t help but whimper at his dirty words, but you make sure to bite your lip, preventing yourself from begging him to take you as you so desperately want to. You aren’t one to beg for anything. And you hate him even more for bringing you to that point.

“I’ve thought about fucking you so many times, Y/N. Fucking you to the point that you don’t even remember your own name, and my name is the only thing that you can scream. I just wanna fuck you until you shut the fuck up.”

“Please, just… do it then.”

Word vomit. You thought it but didn’t intend to say it. Yet, you said it. Of course, you did. You’re on the brink of cumming just from his filthy words.

He kisses your neck before speaking. And you can feel him smile as he does so.

Fuck him.

“Oh, Y/N, baby, hearing you beg makes it so tempting. I never thought you’d be the type, considering the amount of shit you talk.”

You croak out, suddenly feeling defensive, “I’m not. I don’t beg for shit.” You weakly push at his chest, even though you both know damn well you don’t want him to stop.

He laughs, pulling back to look at you, keeping his face close.

“Yet, here you are, begging for my cock like a desperate whore.”

You frown at him, feigning offense, when in reality his degradation is making you even more desperate. Why? You don’t know. You’ve never liked being degraded, in fact, nothing turns you off more than being called names… but hearing it come out of Namjoon's mouth? Fuck.

“I’m not a whore.” You whisper.

He tilts his head at you, amused.

“Fucking obviously, you’re acting like you’ve never been touched before. Are you this needy with other men?”

“There are no other men.”

He studies you for a moment, carefully calculating his next move. The way that he looks at you makes you feel insecure, as if he’s a judge on one of those cooking shows, trying to figure out whether he likes the taste of you or not. You have the urge to push him away and take off, his gaze is too goddamn intense.

He is too intense. Never met a man like him.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumble, looking away from him.

“Like what?” He asks, furrowing his brows. Amused.

“Like you think I’m the most vile thing on earth.”

He’s taken aback by your response, almost looking offended. Because that is the last thing he was thinking. If only you knew.

“Vile? Baby, I’m so hard for you right now that it hurts, do you know how hot you are when you’re pissed? Fucking annoying, but soooo hot.”

You squirm, your cheeks pinking again. You didn’t expect that. You expected him to laugh in your face and agree. He grunts as he takes in your facial expression. If only you knew what you truthfully do to him. He closes his eyes and scrunches his brows, taking a deep breath before he pulls away from you, leaving you considering getting on your damn knees and begging for him to touch you again.

He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes still closed as he speaks. As if he’s in pain from pulling away from you.

“Yeah, fuck, and you’re cute when you blush. This is fucked. I can’t stand you, yet you’re so fucking cute. What the fuck are you doing to me? Huh?”

Fuck. He’s making this hard. You’re so overwhelmed. So pissed, so horny, you wanna push him away and cuss him out some more, but also you’ve never wanted another man more in your life than you do him right now.

Both of you stare at each other silently for a moment. His jaw keeps doing the tick thing, and you squeeze your thighs tighter, rubbing them together to relieve some pressure. His eyes flick to them, and you don’t even bother hiding it this time. As humiliating as it is, his cock is hard and bulging out of his jeans. So you can’t find yourself caring too much at the moment.

What really makes his resolve waver is the way you’re looking at him, which you don’t even realize. Normally you look at him with such disdain, as if he’s the vile one. But right now? Your eyes are wide and glossy, your lip stuck between your teeth. You’re looking at him almost sweetly. The desperation in your gaze is impossible to hide.

He loses it completely.

“Ah, fuck it.” He declares before grabbing you by your hair again as he sits on the couch. He tugs you roughly into his lap and starts devouring your mouth again.

You let out a little huff of air as he does this, not quite used to the rough handling. But god, it’s fucking divine. You feel as if all of the anger you’ve held for him comes rushing out in the form of kisses and touches. He feels the same.

His hand leaves your hair and he grips your hips, roughly grinding his hard cock onto your pussy. Dry humping like fucking teenagers as you make out aggressively.

Your hands come to rest on his face, framing it as they tremble slightly from the overwhelming emotions. You don’t hold back this time either, licking into his mouth wantonly, letting out little grunts and mewls that make his cock strain and twitch inside of his jeans.

His hands leave your hips to grip your ass, and he fucking groans into your mouth. He slaps it once, testing. When you let out a whine, he slaps it much harder this time, making your body jerk slightly.

He laughs into your mouth and says breathily, “Fuck, you really are a whore aren’t you?”

You bite his lip hard when he says this. You hate it. You love it. You grind down harder onto his clothed cock. He reaches back up to grip your hair and tugs your head back, pulling on it harshly and pulling you away from his mouth.

He grins when he hears you whine at the loss of his lips. “You wanna fucking bite me, huh? Uh-uh, fuck no you don’t.”

He pushes you off of his lap and lets go of your hair, you look up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and confusion. Honestly, you already look fucked out and he’s barely done anything. You’re just touch-starved, so every little kiss and touch is fucking you up. You’re craving relief from both your sexual frustration and the building irritation he’s caused you over the last month.

Before you even realize what he’s about to do, he grabs your hair again, his grip much firmer this time. It actually kind of hurts… yet you don’t stop him. He pushes your face roughly into his clothed cock, and grinds onto your face as he spreads his legs wider on the couch.

Oh fuck.

He grunts as he starts nearly smothering you. When he feels a bit of your drool gets onto his crotch, he yanks your head back, he laughs again, “Bet your big fucking mouth is great at sucking cock. Should we find out?”

You just glare at him. Don’t wanna give him the satisfaction even though every single thing he has done so far has made you borderline cream your pants.

He clicks his tongue, “No? Don’t have anything to say now? Isn’t that funny…”

Fuck him.

He keeps his grip tight on your hair as he uses his other hand to fumble with his zipper and button. Once it’s undone, he whips his cock out. It hits the fabric of his rumpled shirt and is already dripping precum.

Holy. Fuck. His cock is huge. A good nine inches.

He yanks your head forward again, literally smearing your face all over it, humping your face again. His head falls back and he grunts at the feeling. Your skin is just so soft, and the way your makeup is already becoming fucked up is making him go crazy. He’s always loved sloppy sex. And you are fucking gorgeous like this, he thinks.

He grabs his cock with his free hand as he tilts your head back, starts slapping your mouth with it, your cheeks too. The precum starts stringing from your cheek to the tip of his cock, and you can see his pupils dilate even bigger, he almost looks like he’s about to lose control.

He says uncharacteristically softly, “If you want me to stop, pinch my thigh real hard, yeah?”

If you had even a single moment of free thought, you would’ve probably been thankful that he gave you an out. You know despite him being a huge piece of work, he’s not a bad guy. So the fact he’s setting boundaries in your favor, even in the heat of the moment, is comforting. He cares about your safety and comfort. It’s the bare minimum of course, but most men lack even that. It’s why you stopped having casual sex to begin with.

But you don’t have a moment to think because pushes your lips down onto his cock abruptly, your mouth opens on instinct and he shoves himself inside. Doesn’t even ease into it, he just straight up plows his cock inside of your mouth until your nose is pressed against his pelvis.

You cough, and gag, already drooling all over him. Fuck it’s hot. You’ve never been face fucked like this before, but you’re starting to think maybe you’ve been missing out on good sex if this is how good rough sex feels.

You can’t even imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you if it feels this good in your mouth.

When he sees tears start to form, he pulls your hair back, strings of spit and precum connecting from your mouth and onto the tip of his cock. Fuck, it felt so good feeling your throat constrict around his cock. His resolve is wavering heavily. But he’s trying to remain patient. He smirks at you, stroking his spit-covered cock lazily directly onto your lips, causing beads of precum to escape his tip and cover your lips like lipgloss.

“Fuck, look at you. And you haven’t said a damn word. So pretty when you shut up.”

Your cheeks flush and you say petulantly, “Fuck you.” Because even now you don’t wanna give him the satisfaction.

That’s short-lived though because he starts fucking your mouth again. He shoves his cock inside and starts thrusting into your mouth as if it’s a goddamn sex toy. He hits the back of your throat with every thrust, causing you to gag and cough, your hands squeezing his thighs hard but not pinching.

You can take it.

He grunts out, “Fuck… I swear to god I’ll fuck your pretty little mouth every goddamn time you mouth off from now on Y/N, since nothing else has worked so far.”

Each word punctuated by a harsh thrust, he grunts our, “Just shut. the. fuck. up. Fuuuck.”

He keeps fucking up into your mouth, not easing up even for a second. Your eyes roll back in your head, and all you can do is take it. His thrusts only become sloppier and wetter. His head is thrown back and his abdomen starts clenching hard. But he knows you need to breathe. As much as he wishes he could just cum down your throat; he has other plans…

He pulls your head back again, he’s already feeling a bit too close to cumming. He doesn’t wanna cum too fast, he’s certain it would give you more to talk shit about.

He gazes down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth parted slightly and his breaths coming in fast. You look utterly fucked. Your makeup is ruined completely now, your eyes are red and teary, and your pretty pink lips are swollen. His stomach flutters, because he thinks you have never looked prettier.

He’s always thought you were so pretty. It’s one of the reasons he can’t stand you. He isn’t supposed to want you. You’re his coworker, technically his subordinate.

But none of that matters now, does it?

He doesn’t look much better, his shirt is covered in wet spit and his boxers are ruined too. He should’ve taken his clothes off… but luckily, he thinks it’s so much hotter this way.

His cock twitches against his belly, and he strokes your cheek with his free hand. He murmurs, “You good?”

You nod stupidly at him even as drool dribbles down your chin and your mascara runs onto your cheeks. There’s nothing to say really. You’ve never enjoyed having a dick down your throat so much. And he has effectively shut you up.

He nods and guides your head up, kisses you deeply. His eyes roll back as he tastes his precum on your tongue. So fucking good, he thinks.

He guides your pliant body to lay down on the couch, and then he settles in between your legs, his hands stroking up and down your thighs as he looks you over. God, there is so much he wants to do to you. He wants to use you but also wants to make you come undone as many times as possible.

Maybe then you’ll be more tolerable. Maybe this is what you both need, he rationalizes.

But he’s getting impatient. His cock is standing tall as he looks down at you, visibly pulsating, jerking upward now and then. And fuck, it’s making you impatient too. So much so that you whine at him, “Fuck, stop looking and just do something.”

His jaw ticks. He’s getting irritated. That’s what you think, anyway. But in reality, he’s preening on the fact you’re just as impatient as he is. It gives him an excuse to cut the foreplay and fuck you stupid.

You want him to do something? Oh, he will.

He lets out an almost mocking laugh, “Yeah? Want me to do something about it? You sure?”

You groan and roll your eyes at him, scooting your ass closer to his pelvis on the couch, his cock dripping so much precum, you have no idea how he’s not losing his mind right now. You certainly are. In fact, he’s starting to piss you off again.

Right as you’re about to talk shit, he can immediately tell. He grabs the front of your button-up and he rips it open. Doesn’t unbutton it like a normal person, but fucking rips it open, sending buttons flying on the floor of the studio. You let out a grunt, and blink at him in surprise with your mouth open.

You liked that shirt. Fuck him.

“Fucking seriously? You’re ruining my clothes now?”

Your patience is almost nonexistent at this point. You have drool and precum drying on your chin, you’re so horny it hurts, and he just ripped your shirt open like a wild fucking animal.

But him? It’s like he’s not even paying attention. His eyes are averted downward, tongue flicking over his lips. He looks almost stupid like this. What the fuck?

You look down to see what he’s gawking at, and… Oh. Oh. Kinda slipped your mind that you aren’t wearing a bra today. You were running late this morning and forgot to throw one on. Oops.

Namjoon doesn’t even look at your face at this point. His eyes are glued to your tits. He feels kind of ridiculous, getting this worked up over tits. He’s seen tits many times, it’s nothing new. But something about yours has him salivating, has his cock jerking upward.

He reaches down and starts lightly slapping the sides of your tits, watching them jiggle with a gaze full of hunger, he rasps out, “Not the only thing I’m gonna be ruining.”

One hand remains playing with your tits like they’re fucking stress balls, and Namjoon would argue that they absolutely are. The other hand reaches down and lifts your skirt, causing it to pool around your waist. He looks down a bit further, begrudgingly tearing his eyes away from your perfect tits, his other hand pushing your ruined panties to the side. He groans, nearly growls when he notices how wet you are. Fuck. He’s so close to losing control.

He dips a single finger into your sopping heat, just barely. Moves the creamy juices around before pushing his finger fully inside, squeezing your tit hard in his other hand. Your hips buck up involuntarily and your head falls back against the couch. You fucking hate yourself for the desperate noise that claws out of your throat.

Namjoon is no better, the moment he feels how wet you truly are, he lets a sound that sounds no better than the one you just let out. His breathing picks up, his heart starts beating faster, and his cock is so hard at this point that it’s actually painful. God, you are just so tight. Your pussy is clenching around his finger as if it’s trying to swallow him whole.

“N-Namjoon— please. Fuck. Please.” You beg again, don’t even care how pathetic you sound. A single fucking finger isn’t enough for how badly you want him right now. Want to be filled up and fucked hard. He’s barely moving it too. Just lightly grazing your walls, and it’s so frustrating. You just want to cum. Get it all out.

Namjoons resolve finally breaks when he sees a trickle of creamy white drip out of your pussy and onto the couch, he can’t take it anymore. He genuinely wanted to tease you, make a fucking mess of you. Make you beg and cry for him because of how much you piss him off. But not even he is strong enough to stall, he needs you. Now.

One last slap to the tit, he pulls his hand away and hastily reaches over for his wallet on the side table next to the couch. He pulls a condom out, brings the wrapper up to his mouth, and tears it open. And fuck, that’s so sexy. Your pussy clenches his finger again at the sight, and then he jerks it out of your pussy with a grunt.

You whine at him, almost feeling offended. But Namjoon knows damn well he’s going a little crazy because he just got jealous. Jealous of his own fucking finger. Should be his cock, not his finger. What the fuck are you doing to him?

He doesn’t warn you before he stuffs the same finger, accompanied by another finger, into your mouth. Nearly making you choke just like you did on his cock. Then he tosses the wrapped condom onto your bare chest, “Put it on me. Quick.”

You don’t even hesitate, you grab the condom with shakey hands and fumble it out of the package, all while sucking his fingers clean of your own juices. It only turns you on more, tasting yourself on his skin.

You reach for his cock, grab it with one shaky hand and his hips buck into it a bit. He lets out a little hiss through his teeth because of how sensitive it is, neglected for too long. That’s how it feels, anyway.

You roll the condom onto his cock snuggly and then look up at him expectantly with a desperate but wrecked look. Give him the best ‘fuck me’ eyes you can muster up. He keeps his fingers in your mouth. Doesn’t even move. Again, drawing it out. Attempting to, anyway.

You whine against his fingers, and would probably be begging him if you could talk. But Namjoon can’t take it anymore, lucky for you. He moves his hips forward and uses his free hand to position his cock at your entrance.

The moment the tip is sucked into your tight hole, he snaps. Literally, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. You cry out even with your mouth around his fingers, sounding muffled and wet. Your back arched obscenely because fuck you didn’t expect him to just go in like that.

You’re not complaining though, fuck no.

His head falls back like yours, and he stays like that for a moment, his teeth grit and eyes clenched shut. He removes his fingers from your mouth and grabs your face with one hand, smooshing your cheeks, the other hand coming back up to your tit and squeezing it harshly, as if he just can’t help himself. Squeezing so hard that it kinda hurts. But fuck, it feels so good. You’re starting to realize maybe you have a thing for shit like this.

Doesn’t help when you feel his cock twitching inside of you. It’s just enough stimulation to make your pussy start throbbing around him.

It’s pathetic how close you already are. But god, it feels like he edged you for hours. Even though he barely did anything. You guess you just kinda forgot what actual dick felt like compared to your fingers or a toy.

He starts moving his hips slowly, trying to be patient while your pussy adjusts to his size. But your patience left the moment he entered you.

“Fuck. Go faster, please.”

Your voice sounds high-pitched and a bit loud which you don’t even realize. You can’t control it. He clicks his tongue at this, gives your face a little shake as he says, “Thought I told you to shut the fuck up? Unless you want all of your coworkers to know you’re letting your boss fuck the shit out of you like a whore? That what you want?”

He pulls back out and then slams in again. You let out another cry, body jolting at the force. And he starts just pounding into you.

You asked for this.

How the fuck are you supposed to be quiet when he goes from 0 to 100 like that? Holy fuck.

“Oh, so you do? You want them all to know I’m making you my slut after humiliating you for your shitty writing? C’mon, speak up. Can’t hear you. Use your fucking words.”

All while snapping his hips harshly into yours, out one moment, deep inside the next. You can barely take it. You swear you can feel him in your fucking stomach. Hardly even register his degrading words because you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even control the loud noises coming out of your mouth, although you desperately try.

Tears prickle your eyes, not because it hurts but because you’re overwhelmed. He’s so hard to figure out. Acting like he’s gonna tease you one moment, and then fucking you like he’s trying to split you in half the next.

He lets out a grunt at your lack of response and ends up squishing your cheeks harder, forcing your mouth open. He leans down slightly and fucking spits in your mouth and then stuffs his fingers back in your mouth, “Actually, just shut the fuck up. Keep your mouth busy and shut the fuck— ah, fuck— the fuck up.”

Fucking disgusting. Fucking hot.

The way his words falter and he loses train of thought for a second makes your pussy clench deliciously around him. Because it’s confirmation that he is just as affected as you are. Just as fucked up right now.

You both look a mess. Your shirt is torn open, your skirt all crooked and pushed up to your waist, and your panties aren’t even fully off. His shirt is still damp with spit, his pants only halfway pulled down and now there’s a creamy white stain on the front of them from your juices dripping down his dick.

It’s heaven, honestly. Or maybe hell. You aren’t sure. But it feels so fucking good.

His hips piston into your cunt hard and fast, and you do your best to focus on sucking his fingers, but the pressure is building fast. You can feel your pussy start to flutter, your clit throbbing, begging to be paid attention to. He can feel it too, it’s making him go crazy because of how responsive you are.

He slams home one more time before staying there, swiveling his hips in a circle so that his pelvis brushes against your clit each time, giving it the minimal amount of attention that has you nearly seeing stars, almost there, but not quite.

“Need more?” He pants out.

You nod your head quickly, his fingers covered in your saliva at this point. Dripping in the essence of you just like his cock. He nods back, removes his other hand from your hip, and settles it at the bottom of your belly, pushing down and placing his thumb over your clit. He starts flicking it fast and starts fucking into you again, picking up the pace so that the room fills with wet squelching noises and skin slapping.

The way he’s pushing onto your tummy while rubbing your clit, Jesus fuck… it’s intense. Makes it feel like he is inside of your stomach. So fucking deep.

Yup. That does it. The stagnant pressure starts building rapidly, he can feel it too. Your pussy starts tightening and fluttering beautifully around his girth. You’re making the prettiest noises, still quiet thanks to his fingers stuffed in your mouth but he can hear you the perfect amount.

God, it’s so perfect, he thinks.

You, you’re not thinking at all. He really is fucking you stupid. Your eyes are continuously rolling back and your hips buck into his thrusts desperately, quickly approaching your climax.

He flicks your clit back and forth, fast but precisely, “C’mon baby, give it to me. Fucking cum all over me. Make a mess. Ungh— god you’re such a fucking slut.”

And that sends you. Out of everything, something about Namjoon calling you a slut just fucking does it for you. You let out a muffled moan, that would be a scream most likely if his fingers weren’t sheathed into your mouth. Your legs tremble and your body shudders through the force of your orgasm.

Your pussy throbs violently, walls rippling around his cock as you finally see those stars. It feels fucking amazing, makes tears fall down your cheek. You can barely breathe because of the force of how fucking good it feels to cum on his cock.

This is his end too. He simply can’t hold back when he feels the vice grip of your pussy desperately trying to keep his cock in place, the rippling of your walls nearly feels like vibrations. He lets out another groan, but it almost comes out like a whine. Very subtly. His face is scrunched up and his mouth open as his hips stutter, his cock spilling and filling up the condom.

It goes on and on. Neither of you thinking about how much you hate each other, only thinking about how good it feels to be together like this. He swears he’s never had sex better than this. You feel the same.

The reality of it all is hate sex is unmatched. Especially when tensions build for so long and you both act as if you can’t stand each other… who knew a fuck could’ve helped with that?

At the last twitch of his cock, when your pussy becomes overstimulated and sore, he collapses on top of you. Both of you panting harshly, catching your breaths as your hearts beat in unison.

He removes his spit-covered fingers from your mouth, and he places lazy little kisses on your skin. He isn’t even sure where, too fucked out to pay attention, just anywhere he can reach while he rests on top of you. It’s an oddly tender gesture. A little sweet, even.

It’s silent for a few minutes. And you both start to realize what you’ve done. You just fucked your technical boss… he just fucked one of his co-writers.

Definitely shouldn’t have happened.

He can’t find himself regretting it though. He feels so light, that he could almost smile. As much of an excuse as it was at first, it genuinely helped with the tension. He’s not quite as irritated with you. Does he like you now? Fuck no.

But the more post-nut clarity comes to fruition… the more he thinks he can tolerate you. Maybe even work with you, compromise with you.

You on the other hand… you don’t know how to feel. You don’t regret it, because fuck, it did help with the tension. You feel lighter too. Not as sensitive. Not as hateful.

Maybe it was for the best. It’s not like anyone has to know, anyway. It’s like couples counseling sort of… except you’re definitely not a couple, and you both still cannot stand each other.

But you can tolerate each other now that most of the tension is gone for the time being.

“You good?”

He tears you away from your thoughts, and you look up at him with bleary eyes. It makes you feel sort of warm and fuzzy inside knowing despite his dislike for you, he’s still checking to make sure he didn’t cross any lines.

Well, he crossed several lines. But, you aren’t complaining. You’re glad he did. Glad he reduced you to this.

“I’m fucking great.”

That earns you a little chuckle. He sighs a breath of relief, was worried he went a bit too hard or did too much, especially since you didn’t set any boundaries beforehand. But you took what he gave you and you took it like a fucking champ, he thinks.

He reluctantly gets off of you because now that you’re both a bit more clear-headed, the couch feels a little too small, and he doesn’t wanna crush you.

His softening cock is still inside of you, so he braces a hand on the couch and slowly pulls out, both of you hissing at the feeling. He watches in awe as your juices flow freely out of you. God, what a pretty pussy, he thinks.

He dips a finger back into your heat, causing you to let out a little noise of surprise. But he removes it quickly, brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean.

“Mmm. Yummy.” He says, wiggling his brows.

Ugh.

He pats your thigh before getting off of the couch, taking the condom off, and tying it up to chuck it in the trash. He stuffs his soft and sensitive cock back into his underwear and pulls up his pants, feeling utterly satiated now. Bubbly and light, even though he won’t show it. He makes his way to the little fridge in his studio and he grabs two bottles of water, tosses you one which you barely catch.

You gulp down the water gratefully, parched considering he stole most of your fucking spit. Asshole.

He begins walking into the bathroom attached to his studio as he says, “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up. Then we can look at those lyrics again and see if it still sounds like kids bop now that I’ve fucked you stupid.”

At your immediate glare, he lets out a laugh, and shrugs innocently, “What? Pussy is magic, can change a man’s mind about a lot of things. Now hurry up, you’re a fucking mess.”

And with that, he’s stepping into the bathroom.

Yeah. Fuck him. Still insufferable.

But god, you really do hope to fuck him again.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts namjoon #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon fanfic #smut #fiction #fanfic #kim namjoon fanfic #bts smut #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #faceclaim

1K notes · View notes

stsgooo · 1 year ago

Text

Haunted.

✩࿐ summary: geto had suffered enough, why should he let you go too?

warning(s): suicidal thoughts/idealizations, death, poor coping mechanisms, gn!reader, depression, isolation, description of violence, angst no comfort, curse!reader, cult leader geto things, character study vibes, not proofread (sorry). wc; 15.7k

pairing(s): geto suguru/reader, geto suguru/gojo satoru/reader (briefly), geto suguru/gojo satoru

a/n: hii, been a while since i’ve written an x reader fic so hope this abides by everyone’s standards :) as i finished this, i realized that this probably should've been multiple parts because of how long it is, but it was too far gone at that point. anyway, i hope you enjoy and if you don't i would rather not hear about it!

available to read on ao3. | divider 1

I. 2005

SUGURU WAS SURE YOU HAD A DEATH WISH.

Out of everyone, it seemed as if you had some crazy switch in you that just flipped during a battle. It was as if you got tunnel vision and your every move was erratic, death the only option. It did not matter to you whether you lived or died. Saving others was your main and only goal. That scared him to death.

You were powerful. Powerful enough where you didn’t need to go all out on every curse that even hinted at having some type of power over you or others. Yet you always found yourself in Shoko’s room, sporting one cut too many, and a bright grin as if you weren’t pushing the limit. You would wave away any and all concern with that smile.

I’m just fine, you would roll your eyes at their worry. Really, you guys, stop fussing so much.

Suguru had argued with you about it before. Both of you had been sent on a mission to some elementary school, few kids had gone missing. You found the curse, and the kids, and a fight ensued. It was nothing crazy. Not until you practically served yourself on a platter for the curse and told Suguru to run away with the kids. Of course, he didn’t leave. What kind of friend would he be if he just let you die? What kind of sorcerer would he be if he just ran away while you were torn limb by limb? He’d be a failure of a sorcerer and a failure of a friend.

It bothered him. It enraged him how easily you threw your life away for others. A hint of danger and you were willing to get yourself killed over it. The complete disregard for your life in the first year that you all knew each other irked his very soul. Your behavior was worrisome. It confused him.

The buildup to his fight with you was a lot to unpack in itself.

The car ride from the hospital the kids were at was silent. Filled with a tension that unsettled his heart and he was sure unsettled your mind. You made no attempt at small talk or passing a good job, it was just silent. He silently thanked you for it. Because he was sure if you spoke then, he would’ve blown up. He would’ve said horrible things. So he silently thanked you for your silence, your silent allowance to let him think. You even fell asleep and Suguru couldn’t help but ask himself how you could sleep so soundly after such a close brush with death.

Three days later, he could tell Satoru and Shoko noticed the tension.

He knew they noticed it the moment you two returned. Your clothes soiled, face covered in mud and blood, hands all too shaky. Maybe it was the way you walked away from his side to great them. Or it was probably the way he glared at the wavering smile on your lips as you told them everything went fine. It was most definitely that.

Shoko was weary of it. At lunch, she’d sit between him and you. Her words were light as she teased and prodded, but never dared to ask the serious questions. She kept the air free of the awkwardness or the anger brewing. Shoko was kind like that. She was optimistic.

Satoru, however, wasn’t.

Although he seemed to abide by the silent rule not to ask you questions, he was practically grilling Suguru any given moment. He asked what happened. Why was Suguru so angry? Why were you acting so standoff-ish? Had something finally happened between you? Did Suguru get rejected and was he throwing himself a pity party? There were so many things that he threw out into the open like it was silly. As if Satoru derived some entertainment from the tension.

Do you ever notice they’re ready to get themselves killed for others? Suguru had thrown out to Satoru a week after the mission.

Satoru’s eyes lost the amusement and his smile dimmed. He pushed his glasses further up his nose. Of course I have. His voice was ridiculously serious and slow, extremely distant. As if recalling something he pushed to the back of his mind often. His attention had cut back to Suguru and shook his head. Man, it’s best to leave this alone. Trust me. Sensei will say something soon enough.

Suguru couldn’t help but worry that their first year teacher’s talk wouldn’t come soon enough.

Things just didn’t make sense to him. He just didn’t understand why you would be so willing to throw yourself into death like it was a blanket on a cold night. Sure, they’re meant to save people, but it didn’t mean death. Not everything had to be final. He feared that you just didn’t know it.

All of it came to a head when all four of you were placed on a mission three weeks after.

At this point, it was apparent that you both were avoiding each other. Different topics that neither of you wanted to address made headway into your dynamic. Distanced you both from one another like it was a bubble. A shield protecting you both from uncomfortable and frankly angry conversations.

But you did it again.

Sure, this time the curse was too much. Things weren’t looking too great for them. But the moment Suguru noticed you were missing from his and Satoru’s side, he felt panicked. He knew what was coming and knew what you’d say.

You caught the curse off guard as you jumped from the top banister, your large hammer at the ready. You shouted something along the lines that they should get out of there. But Suguru nor Satoru dared to run away. He watched, in horror, as you vanished into the curse’s mouth. As he was ready to summon his small arsenal of cursed spirits, the thing was cut from the stomach. Then you got its head.

There was silence as you stood amongst the carnage. Covered in the things purple goopy blood. Then you turned to them with that smile and Suguru lost it.

“What’s wrong with you?” He yelled, his voice echoing off the walls and converging on you. You looked shocked, eyebrows raised and faltering away from the pride to the confusion. He took in a shaky breath as he felt the built up anger from the past three weeks finally come up. “Do you have to throw yourself into danger like that?”

You frowned at him, then pathetically gestured at the curse. “It’s dead, isn’t it?”

Suguru pressed his hands against his face, letting out a deeply annoyed groan. “That’s not the point! The point is you threw yourself into its mouth! Like it was nothing!” He pushed himself forward to at least close the distance a little. Despite hearing Satoru’s soft protest, he needed to look you in the eye.

Your irritation was apparent as you furrowed your brow. “It doesn’t matter! Seriously, what’s your issue lately? You’ve been a complete asshole since that mission we went on. I thought you were just feeling bad for those kids, but you’ve acted completely different towards me!” Suguru could only clench his jaw at your obliviousness. There’s no way, right? There was absolutely no way you didn’t see what you were doing to them. To him. But when you said your next words, that thought was out the window. “Okay, so I threw myself into the middle of things, but so what?”

So what? So what. So fucking what?

Suguru felt something deep within him snap. As if there was a car underwater and the glass that was keeping the passengers safe suddenly cracked. His emotions, his clear mind, were the victims of the drowning. Buried deep under your ignorance.

“So what?” He snapped, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides as he regarded you with unsettled rage. “So what? Are you serious? Like, are you dumb or are you just playing with me because I seriously can’t tell right now!”

You flinched at his tone and he could hear the shift of rubble behind him. “Suguru, hey—“ Satoru tried to de-escalate the situation but he was ignored.

“Excuse me?” You uttered, glaring up at him.

“Whenever we go on missions, you’re the first one throwing yourself at the thing like it isn’t serious. As if there’s not a high possibility that you’ll die! Every single time.” Suguru had a finger against your chest now. He wasn’t even sure when he had reached out, but he could feel the curse’s blood on his fingertip. It was cold and thick. Uncomfortable. But you were covered in it like it was nothing. Everything was nothing to you. “So, I’m asking you: are you dumb or just acting like you are?”

Your eyes were narrowed as you regarded him. “I know it’s dangerous, but sometimes that’s the only option.” Was all you had to say in response.

“You shouldn’t be the first one to die every time!” Suguru was desperate for his point to get across. For you to understand that it wasn’t the matter that it was dangerous— it was the fact that you were so willing and ready to have everyone live without you.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” You frowned.

Just understand I care. That if you were to die right in front of my eyes, I’d lose it. I’ve only known you for ten months, but I can’t imagine a world where you’re dead. You’re one of my best friends— the first friend I ever made, please don’t make me live longer than you. Were all the selfish things that Suguru wanted to say. That he should’ve said.

Instead, he asked, “Do you just want to die?”

There was a very long silence that kept them all from moving.

The question was posed and he could see it in your eyes. Could hear it in the words you didn’t speak. You looked away from him, shame settled on your face. Suddenly, you looked small compared to your usual large and boisterous self. Have you always been this small? Or was this something he was just realizing now?

It settled in his mind, suddenly, that he was right. His assumptions, rash and brazen, were right.

It made him queasy, lightheaded, as he stared at you.

“Y/N…” He uttered with a pale face. He desperately wanted to reach out, to grasp your shoulder— make some type of contact. But his limbs wouldn’t move. He wasn’t even sure if he was breathing or blinking. His mind just repeated the one fact he knew over and over.

You wanted to die. You didn’t care if you died out there, alone, because it was all the same to you. You were waiting for death as it was waiting for you. Like an old friend. You wanted to die.

Suguru felt the overwhelming urge to cry as it all settled. “You want to die?” He couldn’t help the whisper as he stared at you in horror.

Your cheeks were a deep crimson red, tears pooling in your eyes as you took a step back from him. “It-It’s not like that.”

Suguru slowly shook his head. “Y-Yo—“ You shouldn’t feel like that. Is what he wanted to say. But what good would that do? You knew that. You probably prayed you didn’t every day.

“I just— you guys are so important to the school and-and to me! If you guys died, they’d be scrambling and a lot of people would probably suffer. But if I died, then who would even care—?”

“I would!” Suguru couldn’t help the tears that collected in his eyes. Here he was, almost 16, crying in front of you. But he needed you to know he cared. That life wouldn’t be the same without you gracing it. He reached forward, grabbing your hands in a vice like grip. “I would care! If you died I would be miserable and I would miss you like crazy. Don’t say no one would care because, if it doesn’t matter that I care, then everyone would. You’re important to everyone. You matter.”

Your eyes were on him now, wide and unsteady as you regarded him with confusion and disbelief. “Suguru—“

“We would all care. Satoru would be so annoying without your stupid quips. Shoko would be miserable if there wasn’t anyone to get her cigarettes when she forgets. And I…I would lose it if you were dead. I would. I would lose my mind, I’d do something crazy like… like leave everything behind.” It felt wrong to say. To put such weight on you, but he needed to know the role you played. How important you are. He clenched his jaw in determination, eye contact unwavering as he squeezed your hands. “I’ll prove it to you. I swear on it. I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you.”

“Better than anything I could say.” He heard Satoru utter behind them, then the tell tale yelp that came after Shoko slapped him upside the head.

You didn’t let that distract you as you fell forward into his arms. Clutching at his uniform as you let out a small cry. He held you up and listened as you dumped years worth of pain into his chest. Suguru couldn’t ever recall seeing you like this before. He never really wanted to see it again. You didn’t say anything in response to his rather embarrassing ramble to you. No, not to that.

Instead, all you said in return was, “thank you.”

II. 2006

Suguru was in love with you and Satoru.

He realized it the afternoon in Okinawa, all of you walking through the aquarium as Riko pointed out various fish that she knew too much information about. Of course, he wasn’t listening. He was much too focused on you and Satoru. The both of you had snuck away to a gift shop— proclaiming that you needed mementoes and souvenirs for your friends back home. You adorned an octopus hat while Satoru had various fish stickers pressed to his cheeks. You both more resembled children on a field trip than highly esteemed sorcerers.

Suguru loved it. He loved you both.

It was a sudden and rather scary realization.

It came over him as you placed another sticker on Satoru's face. The both of you releasing absurd laughs that had no business sounding so lovely. He could feel the small smile blossom on his own lips as Satoru argued that he'd have the "gooey stuff" all of his face later, which made you promise to help him clean it off with a rag. Then you placed a delicate kiss against his cheek. It was so nonchalant, something they should all be used to, but it was always so jarring. Satoru stared at you with wide eyes behind his glasses, then he grinned. Wide and devious.

Suguru's heart soared.

He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to grab both of you and kiss you like there was no tomorrow. To promise his heart and his life to you both. It would be easy. It would be mere second nature to him. Suguru may just be realizing how deeply he loved you and Satoru, but he was almost sure that he'd felt this way since month five of your first year.

Surely, it shouldn't be a surprise. You three had been getting bold lately. Shoko was even commenting on it. The late nights in your room, the both of them curled up at your side. The domesticity of one of you returning to your dorm and being greeted by the other two. You all had a routine. A promise to come back through the door and have another fight of arguing over what's for dinner. Or something obscure that he wouldn't put up with with anyone else.

He just wanted to tell you and Satoru that he finally feels normal in the world. With you both by his side. That when he has your skin pressed against his, he feels like he could take on the world. That Satoru makes him feel childish and free like he couldn't be when he was a kid. That his kisses were sweet and soft. He just wanted to tell you that he loved you.

But Suguru saw your eyes stray away from Satoru's and the smile faded away. "We have to give her a choice." You said suddenly.

Both Satoru and Suguru moved their attention to Riko. The girl was standing in front of a expansive tank, watching in amazement as the fish zoomed by. The girl unaware of their watchful eyes as she turned to Kuroi and asked her to enjoy the fish too.

Suguru and Satoru had acknowledged that you were probably the last person who should be on this mission almost immediately. It wasn't that you weren't well fit for it, or that you would be too detached, or not want to get involved— it was that you had warmed up to Riko immediately. The girl had become your shadow. She asked about your technique and how "two idiots" like them were able to be in your presence. She amused you and you amused her. Then she asked you what you thought about her merger and you told her you thought it was something you shouldn't get involved in.

But Suguru and Satoru saw it in your eyes. They knew what you thought the moment Yaga had said the word "erase".

You wanted to save her.

"I knew you'd say that." Satoru snorted, leaning back against the tank they stood before. His eyes rolled upwards to look at the dolphin swim pass across from them. "You're always meddling."

You glared at him. "I don't meddle!"

"You do." Satoru said fondly. "What did I say, Suguru? They'd meet the girl and meddle, right?"

You snapped your eyes to Suguru who shyly stuck his hands in his pockets, shrugging. "You did say that." I did not. Suguru used kinder words— like you cared about Riko and you'd probably not want to see her throw away her barely lived life for Tengen-sama.

You pouted, picking at the railing next to Satoru. "Am I that predictable?"

"Only because we know you so well." Satoru teased with a small smile. Then his eyes cut back to Riko who was gradually making her way further down the area. As much as Satoru would deny it, Suguru could tell that he'd come to grow fond of the girl as well. "What do you propose we do, exactly?"

Now Suguru was looking back to you. He could see the shock in your eyes as they snapped up to Satoru— as if you couldn't believe he was playing into whatever ideas you were tossing around. There was a spark of hope in your eyes and Suguru had to look away to prevent the smile that wanted to spread across his face. Instead, he'd let his heart do that weird skip it usually did whenever you and Satoru were particularly adorable.

"All I want is for her to have a choice," Your voice was compassionate as you started. The look in your eyes distant as you turned your attention towards the small tank in front of you three. The portioned tank that had different beta fishes separated. Together they're deadly. Apart, they find peace. Riko had explained. "The way she's talked about everything... the merger with Tengen-sama— that's what she was born for. She's proud of it. But given the choice, she wanted to spend her last day with her friends. She wanted to go to school and hang out with them because she knew she'd never see them again. Instead of really wanting to do this, she's just doing it because she feels like she has to. Where's the freedom in that?"

Suguru smiled softly at you. "So we give her a choice." He agreed with a small nod, finding satisfaction with the brightness in your eyes.

"We'll have to fight Tengen, you know that?" Satoru kept his eyes steady on Riko as he questioned the two of you. Both of you blink, obviously not having considered that detail. "They'll put up a fight— probably other sorcerers too. Freeing Riko might mean we leave Jujutsu High."

Suguru let his mind wander. Would he really mind if the three of you left? Not really. If the three of you have to fight Tengen-sama, then he'd gladly fight them by your side. If you both wanted, he'd destroy the world. Then gladly live his final moments with you both at his side. That was a fact that he knew to be true in his soul.

"I'll gladly do so." You answered without hesitation. Of course you would, you self sacrificial fool. A bitter part of Suguru said. There was no question that you'd put your life on the line for Riko. "If her choice is to live life, then I'll fight Tengen."

"And you'll win?" Satoru asked.

You raised an eyebrow. "We're the strongest, aren't we? Us three?"

Something about your words made Suguru 100% sure that he wouldn't allow you both to walk alone in the world. Together, there wasn't anything you three couldn't take on.

Satoru finally turned from Riko to stare at you with a self assured smirk.

Oh, Suguru thought with a stutter in his heart. He'd already made up his mind before you did.

"Well, well! I thought you were above all that we're the strongest crap!" Satoru teased, throwing his arm around your shoulders as you rolled your eyes. "Don't be so entitled, Satoru. You're making Haibara and Nanami feel less than, Satoru. You sound ignorant, Satoru. Look who's high and mighty now!"

"Oh, stop!" You pushed his arm away, but your smile was fond. You turned back to the beta fish. "Sure, it's a little entitled, but right now, I'm being nice."

"Thank you, thank you, my beloved royalty." Satoru dramatically bowed before you. You uttered something about him being dramatic, which went ignored. The white haired sorcerer reached over and slapped Suguru's arm, peeking at him fondly from behind his glasses. "Suguru, bow for your deity!"

Suguru was about to decline, until you spoke up. "You're ridiculous, you know that? Don't do that." Suddenly, he felt inclined to follow suit.

Both of them were now bowed behind you, uttering their dramatic praises as you blushed, attempting to ignore them as people walked pass and stared. Suguru peeked up at you as you watched the beta fish swim around. In that moment, he prayed that nothing changed.

Things weren't right.

Things weren't right but you were so calm.

Silently, Suguru could only shoot a thankful glance in your direction as the elevator creaked under the strain of four people. He could tell you were worried but your expression was determined to stay pieced together. Satoru was above ground, fighting against that man— Suguru couldn't think about it. It was too much in the mess of things.

The elevator came to a screeching halt and there was no hesitation on your part to push the doors open. You seemed quicker, your movements a little stilted as you exited the elevator and, instead of looking at the three behind you, you kept your gaze on the various entrances. He could tell you were irritated. He could tell you were worried. Or nervous.

No, you were scared.

His attention turned towards Riko and Kuroi who were exchanging a heartfelt, tearful goodbye. They clutched onto each other— Kuroi told her to be brave and Riko promised she would. Then they separated and Suguru promised that he'd come back once everything was done to escort Kuroi to safety.

The trek to the Star Corridor was long and quite.

There wasn't much Suguru could say to comfort you because there wasn't much he could reassure himself with. His worries for Satoru were overbearing in his mind and he couldn't try and fool himself into trying to bear the weight of your anxiety as well. Both of you knew this, so you didn't dare try to comfort one another.

There's nothing wrong. Everything's going to be okay. We're the strongest. Satoru will join us once this is over. Were the things Suguru soothed himself with.

"Is this...?" Riko uttered as they finally broke through to the outskirts of where Tengen homes themself.

"Yes," Suguru confirmed as he came to a stop beside the younger girl. "We're just outside of where Master Tengen resides. This is the country's base for primary barriers. The main hall of the tombs of the Star Corridor."

"Basically, it's their home." You said flatly, coming to Riko's other side, your eyes moving over the vast area. It was quiet, dark, and looked isolated. Nothing that brought any welcomeness for the eternity to come.

Suguru tried not to let his gaze linger on the woeful look painting your face now. He cleared his throat and pointed. "Go down the stairs and pass the gate. Then head toward the base of that huge tree. It's protected by a different barrier than the one around Jujutsu High. Only those invited may enter. You'll be protected by Master Tengen until the merger."

Riko's expression turned sorrowful as she followed the path Suguru paved with her eyes. This was the end. Her fun and the little life she lived was at its finish. She clenched her hands at her sides and made a move to continue forward, without them.

"Or we can turn back and go home to Kuroi."

Riko's eyes snapped to you. Your eyes were compassionate and a small smile graced your features that was more reassuring than any words that could be spoken. She looked a little pale, but the glow of hope suddenly appeared.

"What?" The girl uttered.

You turned to her fully, keep your expression soft. "When our taecher assigned us this mission, he used the word 'erase'. It's like, deep down, he knew something was wrong with this and, for a muscle guy, he doesn't usually beat around the bush." You looked like you wanted to chuckle at your own jab at Yaga, but didn't have the energy. Instead, you sighed. "I talked to Suguru and Satoru and we all came to the decision that if the kid who is the Star Plasma Vessel should refuse the merger then we call it off."

Riko's eyes widened even further and tears were on the cusp of falling as she stared at the both of you.

"We're the strongest," Suguru offered gently, offering a closed eyed smile to the girl. "No matter what you choose, we promise to protect your future."

Riko's lips quivered as her eyes bounced between you two and the vast nothingness of Tengen's home. She took in a shaky breath. "Ever since I was born, I've been told I'm special and different. Being special was normal for me. I've survived till now by staying away from danger... My parents died in a car crash. I don't remember it. I'm not say or lonely anymore." She started to fiddle with her hands as her words grew more unsteady. You moved to press against her side, hands rested against her shoulders. "That's why... with the merger, I thought I'd be okay... leaving everyone. No matter how painful it became, I believed that, some day, the sadness and loneliness would disappear."

"You just need the right person." You uttered to her, her eyes snapping up at you as tears silently streamed down her face. "You need that one person to prove that there's beautiful things out there— that there's kindness and love. I know. I understand, Riko."

The girl bursts into tears, a trail of snot ran from her nose as she shook with her cries. "I want to stay with everyone a bit longer!" Her voice seemed to echo around the two of you. "I want to go to more places and see more things with everyone! More!"

Both you and Suguru smiled softly. His hand reached out while you squeezed her shoulders. "Riko, let's go home." He beckoned her forward.

"Yeah!"

Suguru registered the shot last second, but it was too late for him to truly do anything.

He's never quite seen anything like it.

You were smiling, you looked free from your worries for one second.

Then you were falling. Your face slack and eyes blank. You fell against the ground with a deafening thud. Blood pooled around your head, chunks of your brain scattered across the ground. Your eyes.

They're so blank.

Suguru barely registered Riko's scream. His eyes couldn't leave you even as the girl screamed and screamed, hands clutching at her head as she stared at your body beside her.

You were just speaking a moment ago. You were smiling. How could this happen?

Your eyes are so blank.

"Y-Y/N...." Suguru uttered, eyes wide and face pale.

He felt sick. He didn't feel right. This wasn't right. Why were you on the ground? Why were you bleeding? Why can't he move? Why can't he breathe? Are you going to get up? Please get up.

Riko continued to scream. She just wouldn't stop. Her once hopeful eyes were now reduced to horror and terror as she smeared the blood covering the side of her face. None of it hers.

It's yours.

Your eyes are blank.

What are you doing? Get up. Get up. Smile. Just breathe. Get up. Please, I'll do anything. I'll listen to you ramble about those books you love so much. I'll buy you those disgusting snacks you crave. I'll do anything for you.

Please don't die.

Your eyes are blank.

"Oh," groaned a voice that rattled Suguru's soul. "I missed."

Suguru slowly turned his head to stare at the man. The one that had stabbed Satoru through the chest and had talked to him like an old friend. The one that was now standing, clutching a gun in his hand, pouting as if he was amused by his miscalculation.

As if your death was something he hadn't accounted for.

"How..." Suguru's voice doesn't feel like his own. It feels like he's out of body. As if something else is controlling him. He felt something warm on his cheek, but he couldn't reach for it. His limbs felt heavy, his hands cold. What was happening? Why did everything feel so muddled? "How'd you get here?"

Still, Riko screamed.

Still, your eyes were blank.

The man frowned. "How...?" Suddenly, he chuckled and pressed the side of the gun to his temple. "I see. I killed Gojo Satoru."

Suguru was swarmed with an unfamiliar feeling of rage. You and Satoru had once praised him for his ability to remain calm and level headed when things seemed to crumbled around all of you. He was the voice of reason— your moral compass. The map that lightened your way.

Suddenly, he felt like he was reduced to nothing but rage and this empty feeling in his chest.

Your eyes are blank.

Gojo Satoru is dead.

"I see..." Suguru growled, his eyes unmoved from the man across from him. "Then die!"

III. 2007

Suguru didn't feel right.

Although, he hadn't felt right for 11 months. 47 weeks, and five days. 8,016 hours. 480,960 minutes. 28,857,600 seconds.

He hadn't been right since the moment you dropped dead.

Your eyes were blank.

He wasn't enough to fight against Fushiguro Toji. The man had ruthlessly downed him then killed Riko. It was like it was nothing. He came, he killed, then he left.

Suguru had laid amongst the rubble of Toji's doing and stared into your blank eyes. He still wasn't sure how long it was. He couldn't move and he could barely breathe as the blood from his chest trickled to the stone and concrete under him. Your eyes stared lifelessly into his own. Endlessly. A never-ending staring contest that he pleaded to end.

The entire time he laid on the floor of Tengen's barrier. His mind only repeated one thing.

Please get up. Please be alive. Please get up. Please get up.

Your brains had scattered across the floor and your eyes were unmoving but he spent so much time just pleading with you to snap out of it. He thought he was enough. He apologized for not being enough.

Please get up. I promised to prove it to you.

There was a point he passed out. He could remember thinking, thankfully, that he was going to die. And he swore he heard your gurgled call for him.

Then, he woke up.

Shoko had looked distraught. He could still remember the way she eyed him wearily through red rimmed eyes. Cautious as she told him that you were dead. As she told him Satoru was gone.

Gone. But not dead.

Suguru had, very briefly, rejoiced in Satoru's survival.

Shoko said she cleaned your blood off his cheek.

Suguru hated her for a while after that.

He didn't stay at the infirmary for long. Despite Shoko telling him that Yaga wanted to see him and that he shouldn't move around yet, he dragged himself away. He dragged himself to the cult. He dragged himself along the side walk with his mind flashing with images of your blank eyes.

Was that all death was? Nothingness? Did it comfort you? Did it welcome you? Was it everything you imagined?

His mind wouldn't rest.

He could remember as he entered the building. As he heard the resounding and endless applause. He mindlessly entered and was meant with a never-ending crowd, parting as they just clapped, and clapped, and clapped. It rumbled through his ears, bouncing around his brain.

Your eyes were blank.

When the crowd parted, he remembered the clench of his heart as Satoru, bloodied and blank, appeared. He carried Riko's body in his arms. Lifelessly moving forward. His eyes stared right through Suguru.

"You're late," Satoru had teased blankly. His voice distant and flat. It missed its usual punch. "No.... I guess your're early."

Suguru remembered the confusion that washed over him as he stared at the one he loved. "Satoru... is that you...?"

What happened to you?

"It looks like you saw Shoko." Satoru had sounded like he wasn't entirely aware of his surroundings. Or he didn't care. "Is Y/N there right now?"

Suguru didn't have the heart then. He could remember silently apologizing to you, but he hadn't thought Satoru could handle the news of your death amongst this room.

"Shoko fixed me up fine." His eyes had moved to Riko's limp hand and he felt sick. Her screams were still in his mind. He almost threw up. "I'm sorry."

"I'm the one who messed up. Don't worry about it." Satoru had easily deflected.

Suguru couldn't handle the clapping. They just didn't stop. They clapped, and clapped, and clapped.

Your eyes were blank.

"Suguru," Satoru's voice had stopped him in his tracks. His voice was so detached and so odd. Suguru couldn't handle much change then. He couldn't handle hearing Satoru so different. Not then. "Do you want to kill them all?"

Suguru could remember the shock that shook his body. Could remember the bitterness that immediately followed. The realization that he would love nothing more than to unleash the worst on these people and sum their deaths up as their lives— useless.

"Suguru," He had sworn he heard your voice, distorted and all too sweet. His back stiffened and his eyes widened. "Do you hate them, Suguru?"

He did. He hated them. He wanted them all to burn. He wanted them to suffer. Suguru would've loved nothing more than to have heard all of them plead for their lives. To have the same terror that Riko had when she realized her life was coming to an end. To have that same blank look in their eyes as you had.

Your eyes were blank.

"It's pointless." Suguru had shot down emotionless. He still wasn't sure if he was answering that tiny voice in his head or Satoru, maybe it was both. Who really cared?

"Pointless, huh?" Satoru walked past Suguru and started to make his way outside. "Does there need to be a reason?"

"Of course, it's important." Suguru had easily answered. "Especially as Jujutsu Sorcerers."

11 months. 47 weeks, and five days. 8,016 hours. 480,960 minutes. 28,857,600 seconds later, he believed that was all bullshit.

It surprised him how much and how little could change in a year.

The way everyone seemingly returned to normal and he was left in the past.

Suguru felt like his life was now segregated into two sections: Before the Star Plasma Vessel assignment and after the Star Plasma Vessel assignment. Before and after you.

He realized, quickly and bitterly, that the after you was worse than the before.

Before he knew of your existence, he was happy to be alone. He embraced the fact that kids at school thought him odd, unapproachable. That they would whisper about his habits behind his back. He was happy to know that no one wanted to be around him. It meant they didn't see what he saw. He didn't know anything else.

But the after you was considerably worse.

You had given him that breath of fresh air. That love that he had unknowingly reached out for his entire life. The way you and Satoru had touched him, he didn't even know his heart ached for that type of love. He didn't know he was depraved until you showed him.

He hated it. For a moment, he hated you.

In the first weeks after your death, he felt angry. He was bitter. Even as Satoru rubbed his back in bed. Even as he told Suguru it wasn't his fault. Even as everyone told him that you would hate to see him like that. He felt a hatred. A regret.

For months, he hated you.

He'd ignore topics centered around you. He ignored the day that Shoko and Satoru cleaned out your dorm for a new first year. He was stagnant and blank at the funeral your family held. When everyone walked up to recall memories about you, he didn't. He just listened and he thought that none of them truly captured you. They said you were kind, that you were funny, that you went our of your way to help whoever needed it.

If it was Suguru up there, he would've said you were selfish. That you always put your life on the line when it wasn't needed. That you were arrogant. That you could really make him worry.

But he loved you.

That's what he hated most. Isn't that the worst?

He hated that he loved the way he missed your hugs, your reassurances. He hated that he missed worrying about you. That he wouldn't ever see you again. That he wouldn't join you on a mission and be forced to listen to Yaga or fellow students worry about your sanity. He missed that sometimes you would play into Satoru's words, like saying the three of you were strongest together.

"Hey," Satoru called from across the training yard. Suguru barely looked up. "Have you lost some weight? Are you okay?"

Satoru became "The Strongest". His abilities were starting to blossom and it allowed him to work by himself. The higher-ups sent them alone. And Suguru hadn't felt more confined in his life.

"I'm just a little tired from the summer heat." Suguru easily explained it away, his hands buried deep within his pockets. "It's not a problem."

"Maybe you had too much somen noodles?" Satoru asked, niavely.

"No," Suguru wanted to snap at him. "It's the fact I can't eat without feeling sick. I can't taste anything except the fucking vomit of the curses. I hate it. I hate it. I'm always sick. I'm so hungry. But I can't eat."

Instead, he sighed. "Maybe."

The curse population was springing up like maggots. Everywhere and all consuming. The summer had been busy and Suguru truly was tired. In his heart, he started to blame the mess of last year for the increase of curses. It was easier to blame that than nothing. It was better to put a face to his suffering rather than blame himself.

The repetitiveness of his life was becoming crushing.

An endless cycle of exorcism and consumption.

Exorcise. Consume.

You had once asked him what curses tasted like. Under a beautiful tree and a beautiful night sky. You stared at him from your place on the ground. "Suguru, what does it taste like?"

"It's a taste nobody knows." He had explained. "Like ingesting a rag used to wipe up vomit."

Exorcise. Consume.

"Oh," You had uttered, a heavy frown on your lips as you pondered on it. "I'm sorry."

Exorcise. Consume.

He didn't need your pity then. But it had been nice. It felt nice for someone to pretend they understand the disgust, the bitter tang. He pretended that it helped.

"Thanks."

Then, you asked, "Would it help if you had mints?"

No. "Yes."

That first Christmas you all spent together, you got him mints. And, despite it doing nothing, he still popped one in his mouth every time. False hope that something could push down the disgust he had for his technique, for what he was considered special for. What lengths he went to save people.

For what?

Every since that day, the day you and Riko died, it's been running through Suguru's head. That everything he saw, Toji, your blood, your brains, the never-ending applause of the cult members— it was a hideous evil known to everyone. What he saw wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Still, knowing that, he protects them as a Jujutsu sorcerer.

"We can't lose our way." You had reassured one day when the curse you and him were fighting was particularly ruthless. It had killed so many people that the both of you hadn't been the same for weeks. "Don't lose your way. We just have to follow through with our duty as sorcerers."

The thunderous applause took over that of his heart.

"Monkeys." Suguru uttered in the shower. The first time he whispered it. His eyes unmoving from the wall as the water trickled down, down, and down.

Your eyes were blank.

"Do you hate them, Suguru?"

His hand clenched above him. "Fucking monkeys."

He snapped the water off and robotically dried himself off.

Suguru felt like he was merely living through the motions. That he was being guided other peoples words and the wind itself. He was merely a leaf being blown away. There wasn't anything he could do to stop it. Nothing he could do to ground himself and force himself to take the wheel. To be in control. He could only watch on.

He found himself hunched over on the bench near the vending machines. He barely acknowledged the rain that poured outside. It was one of those days. Those days where the weather matched his mood and made it considerably worse. Maybe he could get away with hiding inside his dorm. Being curled on the bed and not appearing until the rain was well gone— when Satoru couldn't ask him if he's ate.

He closed his eyes in defeat. How could loneliness possibly feel worse now than it did then? He'd been alone for years before. Why was it worse now?

"Hi! Mister Geto!"

Suguru's eyes snapped open and dragged upwards. "Haibara..."

You liked Haibara. You said so on his first day. When he enthusiastically introduced himself to everyone— gave his blood type and his family history. You had laughed for twenty minuets. You said that Haibara was like a breath of fresh air. He had no idea what he was getting into and he was happy. Suguru said you were looking into it too much. You didn't agree. Then you invited both him and Nanami to join you all on a trip to Shinjuku.

You liked Haibara. He was sweet.

You liked Haibara. So did Suguru.

"Hope all is well!" Haibara continued, seemingly ignorant to the war raging on in Suguru's mind.

You liked Haibara. You trained him. He was sweet.

So did Suguru. "What can I get you to drink?" Suguru asked, pulling some change from his pockets.

"I couldn't possibly—" Haibara's eyes glanced at the vending machine then his eyes brightened. "I'll take a coke!"

Suguru couldn't help the little laugh that broke through his lips. Amusement in his eyes for the first time in a while as he gently dropped the change into the junior's cupped palm. Haibara pratically skipped over to the vending machine, dropping the coins in, and retrieved his coke.

Fully expecting him to carry on with a thanks, Suguru was a little surprised that he sat down beside him and smiled big.

"My mission tomorrow is pretty far away." The boy started, wiggling with excitement.

Suguru smiled softly. "That so? I'll be expecting a souvenir then."

"You got it! Something sweet or savory?"

"Satoru will probably have some too, so maybe something sweet."

This was the normal. It felt refreshing for everything to be so normal. A silent agreement amongst the second and third years to get everyone who asked a souvenir from their respective mission areas. It made for interesting foods or items. Silly things that he could place on his shelf or for him to take a bite and Satoru to steal the rest. Usually complaining about how no one ever gets him anything. Just like Okinawa when you picked that hat—

Your eyes were empty.

Suguru's smile faded away.

"Haibara..." He spoke, not entirely aware if his junior was speaking before he was. But Haibara's eyes moved to him with curiosity. He bowed his head once again. "Are you okay with being a Jujutsu sorcerer? Doesn't it bother you?"

Immediately, the junior took the question seriously. His chin rested between his finger and thumb, eyes narrowed in thought. "Hm... good question..." He uttered, a vague pout on his lips. "I'm not really the type to think too hard about things..."

"I don't think we should underestimate Haibara or Nanami." You had defended the two new boys against Satoru's beratement one day. Your eyes cut to where they were practicing against Yaga's cursed dolls. "We all started somewhere. I'm sure they'll surprise us one day."

"Giving my all toward something I know I can help with is a great feeling!" Haibara finally answered, snapping his fingers and looking at Suguru head on.

Suguru couldn't help the way his eyes widened. For whatever reason, his answered shocked him. It was a pure answer. Further proof that Suguru was different from everyone else. Proved that he was slowly losing a part of himself. Haibara hadn't been graced with the same tragedy he had. He didn't know the cruelty of people and was still hopeful.

"I see..." Suguru uttered, looking away once again.

"You're right." Spoke another voice that neither of them know. Both of the boys looked over to the woman that stood a few feet from them. She was tall, long blonde hair and she wore a smile on her face. "Are you Geto? What kind of girls are you into?"

Your eyes were blank.

He only stared in return.

"I like girls with healthy appetites!" Haibara answered happily.

Suguru frowned. "Haibara."

"It's fine!" He turned to Surguru with a bright light in his eyes. "She's not a bad person. I'm a pretty good judge of character!"

Suguru felt something in his chest shift.

"Do you hate them, Suguru?"

"You say that while sitting next to me?" He uttered, sparing the junior a sidelong glance.

"Of course!" Haibara didn't hesitate.

The woman laughed, resting a hand on her hip. "He was being sarcastic, kid!"

No, I'm not. Suguru almost felt compelled to say. But he didn't have the energy. There wasn't any point in arguing with this stranger either. She didn't know him and he didn't know her. Something he would happily continue to stay true.

Embarrassed, Haibara excused himself with the woman quickly taking his spot. In an instant, Suguru drew back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Is he your junior? Such an honest and cute kid."

Suguru couldn't help the distasteful glare he sent from the side. "As a jujutsu, he shouldn't be so trusting." He said bitterly.

The woman looked a little discouraged by his little jab, but continued on. "And you, Geto? Are you going to answer my question?"

"Answer mine first— who are you?"

The woman raised her chin, a small smirk on her lips. "Special grade sorcerer Yuki Tsukumo. Ring a bell?"

"You're the...?"

Yes. Yes, it did. Suguru thought bitterly.

He could distinctly recall you rambling on about Tsukumo. On how you wished you could be like her. Someone highly recognized and didn't care what the higher-ups said— just lived her life. To Suguru, it sounded like Tsukumo was kind of a failure. But to you, it was as if she was a symbol of something amazing. Proof that something that was suddenly attainable to you.

Suguru had been convinced you just had a crush on her.

"Nice! The what?"

Suguru clenched his jaw at her interruption of his thoughts. "The no-good special grade who doesn't take on any missions and just bums around overseas." He informed her flatly.

The woman's smile slipped away and she pouted heavily. "I hate Jujutsu High!" She fell back, her elbows rested on the back of the bench. She sulking. "Just kidding. But I'm not lying when I say we don't see eye-to-eye. What they do here is treat symptoms. What I want is to get at the root cause."

Suguru couldn't help perking up with interest. "The root cause?" He asked slowly.

"I don't want to exorcise curses after they appear. I want a world where curses don't even exist."

He stared at her in shock. A world without curses? He felt like he could almost rejoice. His heart gave a little skip and he almost felt like things were normal.

"How about a little lesson? Tell me, what are curses anyway?"

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Curses are created when cursed energy leaks from humans. It then gathers like sediment and takes form." He answered easily. It was something taught in their first year, something everyone knows.

"Excellent," Tsukumo encouraged, nodding. "If that's the case, there are two ways to create a world where curses no longer exist: one, eradicate cursed energy from all humanity. Two, teach humans how to control their cursed energy. The first one's not a bad idea. There was a model case for it after all."

"A model case?"

"Someone you're familiar with: Zen'in Toji."

Almost instantly, Suguru felt an anger rush over him. Toji. That was someone else that he tried to avoid thinking about. Usually, it only led to thoughts darker than when he thought about you. He thought about the various things he would've done to Fushiguro if given the chance. The slow and torturous death he would've given to him if he had the chance. He doubted it would eat away the hatred in his heart, but Suguru would take anything to have him suffer as you did. As he did.

"There have been several cases where heavenly restriction has reduced a person's cursed energy to normal levels. But to eradicate one's cursed energy completely... I've searched all over the world, and he's the only one who's ever done it. But that's not the only thing that's interesting about him. Despite not having cursed energy, Zen'in Toji was able to sense curses using his five sense. By eliminating all cursed energy, his body became sharpened to the point where he developed a resistance to curses."

A part of Suguru really wanted to tell Tsukumo that he didn't care. That monster died and he was glad to hear it. Even if he was the only way to get rid of curses, he was overjoyed that the man was dead now.

"Don't feel bad about losing him." Suguru scoffed, face blank. "I wanted to research him but he blew me off. It's too bad he died."

You smiled at Riko. You held her shoulders. You were going to take her home.

Your eyes were blank.

I killed Gojo Satoru.

"Cases of heavenly restriction are few and far between. So my focus is on two." Tsukumo seemed completely unaware of Suguru's mind raging on while she spoke. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Did you know, jujutsu sorcerers don't give birth to curses?"

That snapped Suguru out of his thoughts. He slowly dragged his eyes to stare at the side of the woman's head as she carried on.

"Of course, that's excluding cases where sorcerers become curses after death—" Do you hate them, Suguru? "—The amount of cursed energy that leaks from sorcerers, compared to from non-sorcerers, is extremely low. There is a difference in how much we consume and use cursed energy because of our profession. But the real reason lies in how it flows through us. For sorcerers, it flows heavily within us. If we're talking general terms— if every single human became a jujutsu sorcerer, no curse would ever be born again."

Suguru's world as he knew it, paused.

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

Those people. Humans. Non-sorcerers. They created the world that killed you. They created a world where he was alone.

Do you hate them, Suguru?

"Then why not just kill every non-sorcerer?" He asked softly, not daring to lift his head or eyes from between his feet.

There was a silence between the two of them that made him tense up. He said something wrong. But why didn't it feel wrong? Why didn't the suggestion disgust him or make him sweat? Why did it feel like an idea that was meant to be said?

"Geto," Tsukumo finally spoke, voice slow and calculated. "That is an option."

What?

"In fact, that might be the easiest route!"

Suguru slowly lifted his eyes from the floor and stared at the woman next to him with wide eyes. Now, he felt it. He felt the sweat on his brow. It's an option. "What?" He uttered, tilting his head to try and meet her eye as she stared into the distance. "Um..."

"Weed out non-sorcerers and make them adapt to a jujutsu sorcerer based society. In other words, forced evolution. Kinda like how birds grew wings. Using dear and danger as a catalyst."

It's an option. Suguru couldn't shake his stare. He was holding his breath and just staring at her.

"But," There it is. "I aint' that crazy."

She looked amused, but she didn't know him. She didn't know his feelings and the fact that he hated—

"Do you hate non-sorcerers, Geto?" She asked it sincerely.

Do you hate them, Suguru?

His eyes went back the floor, ashamed. "I don't know." He started with a whisper. "I used to think jujutsu sorcerers existed to protect non-sorcerers. But recently, I've been doubting whether non-sorcerers are worth fighting for. The preciousness of the weak. The ugliness of the weak. I can no longer tell the difference. The part of me that looks down on non-sorcerers.... the part of me that tries to resist that feeling...."

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

"If being a jujutsu sorcerer is like running a marathon, then the finish line is too unclear." Suguru placed a hand against his forehead, hairs tangled between his fingers. "I don't know what I really feel."

"It's understandable, you know?" Suguru glanced at her with a frown as she eyed him contemplatively. "You watched your friend die, right? It's never easy. Messes you up. I'm sure I don't have to tell you."

You don't.

"Death and mourning something can really conjuring some nasty things in your mind. Like killing non-sorcerers— you want to take that anger out on someone. The anger for your friend's life being taken away." She explained it like it was so easy, as if she knew his next steps when he did not. "But looking down on non-sorcerers... resisting that feeling... those are just possibilities you've thought of. Whatever your true feeling is, you still have to decide."

The conversation didn't lead to anywhere else and Suguru was feeling himself grow more tired the more he stayed away from his dorm. He was about to excuse himself when Tsukumo asked for him to follow her out. She didn't say much on the way out and Suguru was grateful for it.

The woman got on her bike and waved at him. "I'll see ya! I was hoping to say hi to Gojo as well. Bad timing, I guess." She slid her goggles on. "As fellow special grade sorcerers, let's all three of us get along, okay?"

Suguru gave her his best smile, which wasn't much. "I'll send you regards to Gojo."

Tsukumo smiled, starting up her bike. She was about to ride off when she looked back at him. "One last thing. Don't worry about what happened with the Star Plasma Vessel. Whether there was another vessel or another vessel was born— whatever happened, Tengen is stabilized."

He didn't think it possible, but his hatred grew. Tengen is stabilized.

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

Tengen is stabilized.

Suguru bowed his head as she drove off. "I figured."

What the fuck had you died for, anyway?

Haibara was dead and he'd seen the body. The entire time Suguru thought of you.

As Nanami attempted to hold back tears, as he explained that they were caught off guard by a special grade, Suguru saw you in Haibara's place.

Both of you victims of a system created to protect people who weren't grateful. Who didn't even know you exist. People who had spared both of you not a single glance despite being so caring, so selfless. Who were they to put this unbearable burden on everyone's shoulders then act like you were different?

Haibara was sweet. You liked him. So did Suguru.

Haibara was dead. So were you. Suguru felt hatred build in him.

As he stared at Haibara's bloodied face, he had thought one thing: who would suffer for this death?

Gojo completed the mission. Gojo exorcised the curse. Gojo. Gojo. Gojo. Gojo.

Gojo.

Why should Gojo be the one wrecking havoc? When it was Suguru that was filled with rage? When he was the one that wanted nothing more than to harm the ones that caused this all?

Do you hate them, Suguru?

"What is this?" Suguru asked slowly, staring at the sight before him.

Two girls seemingly coward away from him. Their faces bloodied and bruised. The cage that contained them offered no comfort. Just the cold hard ground and the darkness. They shook under his gaze and he couldn't find it in himself to look away. He couldn't turn around and question the people behind him. He did not know what he'd do if he looked them in the eyes as they explained themselves.

"What do you mean? These two are responsible for the incident, right?" Asked one man.

Suguru clenched his jaw. "No, they are not."

"These two possess strange powers and often attack the villagers."

This was of your own creation.

"I already dealt with the cause for the incident."

"My grandchild nearly died because of these two!" Protested the elderly woman as if she realized that Suguru wasn't going to believe these two were responsible.

The blonde child leaned forward. "That was because they—"

"Shut up you monsters!"

"Your parents were the same! I knew we should've killed you when you were born!"

As the two adults berated the children, Suguru came to a decision. His heart was no longer torn in two. As he stared at the girl's, his resolution was made.

He lifted his finger and a shadowed curse sprouted. "It-It'll be okay..." The girls stared at him with wide eyes, almost relieved. If he were a different man. If he in a different mindset then, he would've cried over the relief that washed over them. "Do...Don't worry... it'll be o-okay."

He ignored how familiar the voice was, how familiar the words were. He'd grown used to finding something that wasn't there in the curses he had collected. The fact that the ones he barely manifested were the ones that sounded like you the most.

Suguru turned around to the villagers and smiled. One that he hadn't managed to conjure up in some time.

"Let's step outside for a moment, shall we?"

The two followed him out and Suguru wasn't sure what words he said, what movement he made, but he could see the horror in their eyes. As he manifested his beloved curses, the one people like them had created, he felt an anger bubble up. Emotions that he had desperately pushed aside in an attempt to continue his life were now running their way to the forefront of his mind.

The grief of losing you. The anger of the complete disregard of you life by the society as a whole. The fact that there was nothing left of you now. Nothing—

"Suguru, do you hate them?"

His body stiffened. His wide eyes dragged from the horrified, begging people before him, to over his shoulder. The shadow that loomed over him now.

He'd read about this before. It was some obscure book he found while researching previous curse manipulators. It talked about various things that he used to prove to Yaga that he was learning something. One section had piqued his interest, but it was never information that he'd use in random day-to-day. Vengeful spirits. Usually, this only happened after sorcerers die without jujutsu being used against them. Their very soul and spirit is corrupted and transformed into something horrible. Something darker than who they truly were in life.

As Suguru stared at the spirit before him now, he knew what he had inadvertently done to you. The way your large body curled around him, wisps of what should be hair floating above you, your body clad in an open and flowing kimono. What caught his eyes the most, were your own eyes. Despite being almost invisible, he was relived. They were not blank. Instead, they looked like they burned with the rage he had held back for years.

It was as if you were the extension of his very soul.

"It should be noted that if you find yourself attached to a vengeful spirit: You must establish a clear master/servant bond. As the spirit is attached to your own soul, they musn't be allowed to overcome you. If exorcism is not an option, then create a clear set of rules. Summon them only when necessary. Vengeful spirits are not to be taken lightly."

"Suguru, do you hate them?" Your eyes did not leave his.

This time, he didn't hesitate nor lie. "Yes."

He heard them whimper in fear.

You moved unnaturally, but he didn't care. "Do you want them to die, Suguru?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yes."

Your hand rested on his shoulder and he didnt even care if your talon like nails dug into his flesh. He watched, awestruck, as you turned your feral gaze onto the cowering villagers. "Can I hurt them for you, Suguru?"

Despite your state, despite what it meant for him, he couldn't help but feel the warmth blossom through his chest. He basked in the feeling of your brushed against his shoulder.

"Yes."

An unnatural smile creeped over your face and your shot forward, now clutching your katana.

All Suguru could think was: you're back.

"Suguru....what have you done?"

Geto adjusted his gojogesa with a emotionless mask over his face. The bags that had adorned his eyes for the past year were mostly gone. He was finally able to eat. His mind wasn't constantly ringing with that thunderous applause or the thud of your body. Instead, he was free. There was silence.

Except whenever you spoke.

"Where did you get that energy? Suguru, answer me!"

He had seen Gojo a week ago. He had said his goodbyes, vaguely masked as threat. Geto knew what they were now. Enemies by default. He knew it couldn't be long before the higher-ups found out about the village— known exactly what he'd become that night. He was a curse user.

God, was that a great feeling.

Geto was giddy that night. He couldn't help the giddiness he felt with his freedom. The happiness he felt as he held Nanako and Mimiko in his arms, trekking through the woods to the main street where he dragged them to his parent's house. That whole situation had been something in itself. Their anger, their confusion, the heartbreak for not understanding their son anymore.

Geto had simply taken what he needed for the twins, then left you to take care of his parents.

"You feel it, don't you, Gojo? You see them."

There was an assortment of things that Geto found himself doing after he defected. He suddenly found himself in the place of taking care of two twin girls that clung to his clothes and followed his every word like he was the Buddha guiding them towards enlightenment. There big eyes screamed the thank you's that he did not need or would accept. Still, he could tell that they were trying to prove that they were useful to him. Whatever that meant coming from a pair of 6 year olds.

The second thing he'd started was taking over the Star Plasma Religious Group. Although he heard they had disbanded a year prior, it appeared that they were just absorbed by another money hungry fool scamming them for every last cent they had. Not that he was about to go bad mouthing other people's methods for something he was about to do himself. It was surprisingly easy to take over a religious group when you had a vengeful spirit hanging off of you. The men, although easy to get on his side, he still killed. There was no point to their existence now. Not when he had his own plans outside from worshipping the likes of Tengen.

The last thing he was taking care of was you.

"....What did you do?"

"Nothing. I did nothing. They're was always with me."

Geto's adventure back into the books covering vengeful spirits was actually welcomed this time around. As a younger student, he hadn't really cared to think about what would happen to him if he happened to die in a terribly normal way. But now it was something he regarded with the utmost fascination. The different descriptions of vengeful spirits made him ponder exactly what you were.

Violent and seeking revenge. Sad and lost. Unaware they're dead and seeking guidance. Plague that spreads death, leeching off certain hosts. Clingy, they seek approval from the attached for their actions. These spirits had a connection with the host in their life and feel something unfinished in their death.

He could remember the look in Gojo's eyes as his eyes strained to look over Geto's shoulder. The fear and the realization that washed over him. The anger in his eyes as he seemed to grieve over not only Suguru, but you as well. The waver in his voice as he asked Geto what he had done. It almost made Geto feel bad.

Almost.

Gojo had his life laid out for himself. The higher-ups knew what they could do with him. He was practically bred and born for his role amongst everything. He'd live and die the jujutsu society. Something that always unsettled Suguru, but something Geto accepted. He came second. Last compared to jujutsu.

At least he had you. It was you and him first. Then Gojo. He could make this work again. He wouldn't let anything happen to you again.

Geto shifted his attention elsewhere as he flattened his robes.

God, he really did look the part now, didn't he? Except, maybe, the hair. But he wasn't doing anything about it.

"This place is still a religious group to the public, are you okay with that?" Asked one of the nameless faces that Geto would encounter in his life.

He over looked the stage before him with a flat expression. "As long as I can collect curses and money, that's all right." He reassured.

The man frowned, looking at Geto with some vague confusion. "Are you really going out there like that?"

He let a grin spread across his lips. "Why not? Bluffing and looking the part is important."

"Master Geto..."

He spared the twins a soft glance, a reassuring smile gracing his features. He reached down and ruffled their hair gently. "Be sure to watch closely." He whispered to them, watching with a warmth in his heart as they smiled and giggled at one another. "Have they gathered?"

"Directors, representatives. The chairman. And a lot more money waiting."

Geto grinned, taking the microphone from the man, and making his way out onto the stage.

The last time he'd been in the building they were giving a thunderous applause for Riko's death and, by extension, yours. He had been waiting a year to see them all again. To look them in the eyes and find a proper way to make them suffer. To make them feel the same fear or suffering that you and Riko had in your last moments.

"Can everyone hear me? Thank you for waiting, I'll keep this short." He announced as he came to a stop before them all. Nameless faces, judgmental side eyes, questionable whispers to one another. They did not remember Suguru. But he would make sure they remembered Geto. "As of this moment, this group is mine. We'll have a new name as well. You all will obey me."

Instantly, there was a scattered rise of opposition in the crowd.

Geto's grin faltered as he listened to the various questions of exactly who was he made their way to him. He could hear the anger and the confusion. His frustration heightened.

"Well, isn't that a shame." He dragged a hand over his face, eyes grazing the crowd before he grinned one more. He tried to look as inviting as he could, waving a hand at one man in particular. "Mister Sonoda! Could you please come up to the stage? Yes, that's right, you!"

As the older man stood from his seat and hobbled his way up, Geto narrowed his eyes. Despite his smile, his eyes couldn't hide the contempt and the hatred he had for the man before him. He could see that he noticed in the way he faltered on the steps. But pushed through and stood by Geto's eyes.

He made eye contact with Sonoda, then— "Y/N."

He found it easy to summon you. To watch you tear away at the man who had so brazenly ordered Riko's death. To listen to the garbled expressions of hatred you exclaimed as you tore his enemies limb-by-limb. It felt like it was some form a justice. To finally see the horror in their eyes, the blankness of it all. Bittersweet for him to watch.

However, he couldn't stand there and watch you in awe forever. He had people to take under his control.

Geto turned his attention back to the crowd. Satisfaction grew in his chest as he saw the horror and shock fall over their faces. Easily, Geto threw the microphone away.

"Now then, let's try this again." He scowled at the crowd, feeling you loom over his shoulder once again. He used his thumb to brush away some of the blood. "Obey me, monkeys."

III. 2015

"Are you mad at me, Suguru?"

Things had been going smoothly for Geto in the past eight years.

The cult, because that's what he considered it, was running finely. Those who owed money, gave it to him, or else. Those who followed, followed with loyalty, or else. Those who served no purpose, were dealt with. He had created a normal amongst the congregation. A standard that he himself had wanted to watch them scramble to keep. A constant state of panic or devotion for them that fed into his, honestly, growing ego.

Things like his family kept him rather humble.

The girls had grown accustomed to their lives with Geto. They seemed to thrive and love under his care. All of them had grown to a routine that they cherished with one another. They even seemed accustomed to you. The fear and confusion of others wasn't found in their eyes or hearts. Geto never properly explained what happened after death if certain things didn't take place, but they understood anyone. They knew you were important to him— by extension making you important to them.

The other members of the family— Laure, Miguel, Manami, Toshihisa— had a vague understanding of exactly what a vengeful spirit entailed. Although, they weren't jumping at the opportunity to really talk about it. Laure had attempted once, but the conversation died out quickly due to the look on Geto's face. The man was quick to drop the topic once he saw the expression painting the leader's face. Allegedly, he looked ready to kill.

Earlier that day, though, Miguel was braver. And Geto was in a far clearer mood.

"How did it happen?" The man's deep voice asked gently from where he sat across from Geto. Once the confusion set in of his sudden question, he raised an eyebrow at the apparent shadow rested behind his chair. "How did they get cursed?"

Geto himself had thought about it for years. He wondered what point you had been damned blessed to be attached to his soul even after death. It took him a long time. In the mix of things, death and decay, the sharp turn of his ideals— he had barely any time to really think about what made you this spirit clinging onto his life.

Some books said that it could be the connection shared by the host and spirit before death. Others said that hosts had the ability to curse the spirit themselves. That their desperation and their inability to let go was the true reason that sorcerers would live on as something horrible. Something completely opposite as to who they were in life.

He had pushed the thoughts away before they could ever really come to fruition. The possibility that he had been the one to create you into this. The thought alone was enough to twist his stomach. So instead he ignored it. He lived in blissful ignorance.

"Just happens sometimes after death." Geto answered flatly, turning his attention back to his book. He knew there was curiosity amongst his family to know things about you. Afterall, you were considered a part of the family, but there was simply no room to have conversation with you. You either grew hostile or confused and sought Geto out for answers. "Sorcerers whenever they're killed by a non-curse way or something another.

"Hm," Miguel's hum had remained unconvinced as his eyes trailed back to you. As your fingers hovered over the corner of the seat, but you didn't peek out. "There was a couple in my village back home. They were considered the ideal relationship at the time— I was a kid and thought so too. They were kind people. I always enjoyed getting special treatment from the wife, she was like a mother. She was one of the only other people I ever met in my home country that could see curses. Everything was good. But then her husband went and died from sickness. There was something different from the moment she died. She went a little crazy and one day she went and got real angry. Then— boom, there's her husband. But he was different. He was like yours."

Geto hadn't really known what to make of that rather non-sensical story at the time. He had just stared at Miguel before nodding slowly in return. "That's tragic." He wasn't interested in the possibilities.

"Nanako told me it was hard on you when they died." Miguel carried on as if he hadn't very visibly paused for Geto to speak his heart out. "Said that you said it was the reason you're the way you are now."

There was moments where Geto felt frustration with the twins. Their willingness to be so open with the family. Their ability to talk about their emotions so easily. The fact that they couldn't keep a secret for their lives.

The conversation about you had come up when the house was particularly restless and they were morbidly curious. They asked what you were like alive. What he was like as a kid. What the both of you were like in high school. How did you die.

He had looked off distantly and recalled the details— although he left out the gorey, unlikeable parts. He left in the parts where he was sad, that he had a hard time. He explained it in a way that kids like them could understand and use later to make sure they didn't end up the same way. Isolated and full of hatred.

Then, he made the mistake of mentioning Gojo. Their questions fell on deaf ears as he wished them goodnight and tried to drown out the memories of his youth.

"Don't get on her case about it. She's was just curious what certain things meant." Miguel must've taken his silence as anger because he stared at Geto with pleasantly narrowed eyes. "Have you ever considered exactly what happened to them?"

The question wasn't hostile or had any nefarious undertones.

He might as well had threatened Geto though.

Your eyes were blank.

"Please get up."

Geto had quickly excused himself, claiming that he needed to head to bed. He didn't miss the disappointment in Miguel's eyes or the fact that he had tensed up as you drew closer. He didn't want to think about it. What had taken place before, during, and after your death. He didn't need the questions—

"Please get up."

Tonight he couldn't escape it.

Eight years worth of questions and mystery filled his mind. The things he didn't dare address or ponder upon.

Sitting against his headboard, staring blankly into the darkness, he knew exactly how things ended up like this.

Him, a pathetic boy, staring into your lifeless eyes— he had begged for you to be alive. He had laid there with tears in his eyes, a pain in his chest, and a wavering plead breaking from his lips. Before he had fallen unconscious, he reached out his hand.

He reached out his hand.

Your eyes were blank.

Geto knew that he had cursed you. That his pleads and desperately attempt at touching you one last time had somehow damned you. He didn't need to know how it worked. He just knew that it was his fault.

The disgust in Gojo's eyes, the heartbreak, the shock. It was all things Geto deserved. For he had robbed you of the eternal rest you deserved.

The tears collected in his eyes and, for the first time in eight years, he felt a heavy bought of regret press against his chest.

He's known you longer dead than you were alive. Two years of his life had ruled onto the next eight. He had let his grief blind him. He was desperate to not let you go. To keep up some illusion in his head that he would be able to keep you there. To not let you fade away.

Selfish. He'd never been selfish before your death.

"Suguru?"

Your voice, distorted and garbled, was not something that he wanted to hear in that moment. Whatever reason, you were beside the bed now, head rested against your arms. He barely spared you a glance as the tears spilled over.

Selfish. Here you were now. Some weird sense in you to come out and comfort him. He had done this to you. An eternity to comfort him.

Selfish.

"Suguru, are you angry?" You sounded concerned, an odd sound that it didn't seem to fit you now.

Geto clenched his jaw, flexing his fingers. "Only at myself." He uttered.

You inched forward on the bed, a heavy frown spread across your face. "Why are you angry at yourself?"

He finally dragged his eyes to you, lids heavy and face almost as lifeless as your own. "I cursed you." He said it quietly but it felt extremely loud in his empty room. He looked for any realization in your eyes, any type of anger directed at him, but there was nothing. You just stared in return. You should be enraged. "I cursed you. Don't you understand what that means?"

Still, you didn't look angry.

"You saved me—"

"No, no, I didn't." Geto interrupted, closing his eyes in mild irritation. "I didn't... save you. I cursed you. I-I cursed you to stay by my side as I kill. As I kill in your name, you should be angry, Y/N."

“But… they’ve hurt you.” You say it with such confusion and sincerity that it makes him sick.

It’s then that he realizes what this all meant.

If you were alive now, you would look at him with all the rage in the world. You would damn him. You would be disgusted. If you were alive you would probably try to get him to see it all differently. You would tell him that staying with Gojo would’ve been better than this isolation, than this constant feeling in his chest. You would’ve known better than him.

It was then that he realized that he still blamed you for a lot. He wasn’t sure if things would be the same if just Riko died. Or maybe if you all had lived. Would he still be drawn to the same fate only later? Sometimes he was hopeful that he would be the same. Other times he wished he didn’t. All of it led to one thing: his anger for you.

There were some nights he would stay up and think about what you would do in his position. You would forgive them, try to use death as a chance to grow. You were much kinder than him. Or maybe you would be driven insane. None of you had quite tasted death until that mission. You probably would’ve handled things much differently than him if you had seen where Haibara ended up.

Bitterly, Geto thought, you probably would’ve given up.

Your sadness was always prone to taking you down. To whisper those forbidden and nasty things to you until you just wanted to bleed. You admitted to him and Gojo once that you didn’t even think you would make it to high school once. It scared them both, but you always got back up.

Yeah, you wouldn’t handle the sadness.

With a clenched jaw, Geto reached out and held your face. “I made you into this. You only kill and feel that way because that’s how I feel. Doesn’t that make you angry? Don’t you hate me?” He so desperately wanted you to see it from his point of view. He wanted the logic of it all to hit your brain and for you to finally finish what Toji and Gojo couldn’t— properly kill him.

However, just as you were in life, you would never take his life.

“I don’t care about those things.” You uttered in that distorted voice, those eyes of yours filled with emotions that he couldn’t hand pick. “Have I done something to upset you, Suguru?”

"No." Geto answered without hesitation. He pinched his eyes closed and took a deep breath. "I just want you to understand what this is."

He could feel your nail ghost over his thigh. "I understand."

Geto didn't believe you did, but he didn't have the energy to fight you. Not anymore. A part of him would always long to have a good long argument with you. But now it felt different. It felt as if it were all fabricated.

You were too agreeable now.

Please don't die. Please don't leave me.

But he supposed this was his punishment now. For being so desperate.

He rested his hand on top of your head. "Thanks for listening, I guess."

He can deal with the guilt later.

IV. 2017

Geto Suguru knew this would happen.

At least, a part of him was aware that death with a very high likely once he looked Gojo Satoru in the eye and declared war. Maybe even before that as he overlooked the mess of blood and limbs Rika had left behind at the elementary.

Either way, Geto Suguru knew this would happen.

"Hey," You had spoke one day as the three of them lounge in the courtyard. You had your uniform jacket open and your hair loose from the headband you wore to keep it out of your face. A good memory if it weren't for your next question. "Is it good to live a dishonorable life and have a honorable death, or a honorable life with a dishonorable death?"

"Huh? Why would you ask that now?" Satoru had pouted.

You had shrugged. "I mean, Yaga-sensei says that to be a sorcerer we'll have to live with our regrets, but he never talks about honor."

Satoru, in true fashion, rolled his eyes at you before taking a large bite out of his sandwich. "Because it's a bunch of self righteous mumbo-jumbo." He had said through a mouth full.

"Whatever." Your eyes dragged to Suguru. Your face had blossomed into a soft smile. "What do you think, Suguru?"

Suguru had frowned, biting on his lower lip as he thought. "I think what we all consider honorable varies. At the end of the day, you'll have to look back on your life yourself and decide whether you lived it worth wild." As you and Satoru stared at him with raised eyebrows, he shyly shrugged. "Don't worry about how honorable or dishonorable you'll be to others— just live a life that'll make you happy."

While you stared at him with someone akin to awe, Satoru stared blankly at him before bowing. "Truly inspirational, Suguru-sama, please invoke more of your wisdom on us!"

You had defended Suguru fervently as Satoru crowed against your assault. Then, he had been unwavering in his beliefs.

Now, Geto Suguru, stumbling down the ally with a missing arm, knew that all was bullshit.

There was nothing honorable or dishonorable about death. It was all a matter how people viewed you at the time. No one would be truly satisfied with their death because there would be a long list of things they wished they had done or hadn't done in their life.

As Yaga had said, they would all die with regrets.

His plans to obtain Rika had been rooted from a place of pure selfishness. His need to find alternative needs that didn't include using you in the most indescribable and unforgiveable way. He knew, deep down, that if he had used you the way that he planed to use Rika's powers— he would never forgive himself.

He hadn't even wanted to use you against Okkotsu Yuta. But that kid was something else. Most definitely a protege of Gojo Satoru. He could recall the caught off guard look on Okkotsu's face once you appeared. The confusion and the shock that overtook him as you wrapped yourself around Geto Suguru. He had uttered something that made the man falter.

"You're like me?"

There were so many things something that could mean.

You're like me: you're cursed with a love by your side, permanently protecting you against things that you didn't think were dangerous.

You're like me: someone had died so close to you that couldn't quite detach themselves from your soul.

You're like me: you cursed another because you couldn't accept that death was final?

Yes, Geto Suguru bitterly thought as his drive to kill Okkotsu grew. I did.

Now, Geto Suguru couldn't even feel you brewing with his soul. He didn't even think there'd be a difference if you ever left him. But there was this odd sense of loneliness deep within him that made him sick (definitely had nothing to do with the intense blood loss). His stomach churned as his mind silently cried out for you.

Was this true death? Nothing left to hold onto, just the memories and emptiness?

You're like me: you can't live without them.

Geto Suguru fell against the wall of the alley with a bitter scoff. Of course he couldn't. No matter how much he tried to convince himself, he spent the last 10 years attach his very life and soul around you. Tried to act like a big boy whenever he was asked what he would do if he was freed from this curse.

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

Your eyes were blank.

"You finally made it," Geto Suguru snorted as he shifted his eyes over to the looming figure feet from him. "Satoru."

There was something so jarring seeing him now.

Compared to when he arrived a month prior, Gojo Satoru lacked those bandages around his eyes. Those blinding and once comforting pair of sky blues were staring into his very soul blankly. Did he realize that he wasn't coming to say goodbye to you? To free you from a monster like Geto Suguru? That he had actually used you in a last ditch effort to obtain Rika?

He was sure he was aware now.

"You'll be the one to take me down, huh?" He kept a hold on his shoulder as he dragged his eyes away from Gojo Satoru to avoid the unbearable guilt that overcame him. Years of regret and what if's overtaking his mind. "How's my family?"

As long as Nanako and Mimiko were safe, he could die without regret.

"They all got away. Kyoto was your doing too, wasn't it?" Gojo Satoru's voice was as telling as it was 10 years ago. As saddened and angered as the day he had walked away from it all.

"Yeah, unlike you, I'm a kind person. You sent those two here knowing I'd defeat them.... just so you could trigger Okkotsu's growth." He had been thinking about it since the moment Okkotsu's eyes had darkened. The unbearable grief that took over the boy as he eyed his unmoving and bloody friends.

Your eyes were blank.

"It's called trust. People with beliefs like yours wouldn't kill a young sorcerer without reason."

Geto Suguru laughed. "Trust, huh?" He couldn't help the amusement flow through him. After all these years... "I didn't realize you still felt any connection with me."

His counterpart responded with a scoff. "Suguru." It was said with the weight of a thousand lonely days— as if Satoru had thought the same. As if nothing had changed. The man clenched his jaw, ducking his eyes from view as he spoke once again: "Any last words?"

Geto Suguru drew in a heavy breath, things were really getting hazy now— almost feather light. "No matter what, I'll always hate those monkeys." His words were said with the disdain and hatred of the past ten years. Then he thought about where he was 10 years ago. The grief and the isolation that overtook him. He grew quiet. "But it's not like I hate everyone at Jujutsu High. It's just that in this world... I couldn't wear a heartfelt smile."

Satoru stood there in silence. Seeming to take in the words carefully.

"Anything else?" He uttered.

Suguru frowned, ducking his head. There was one thing he had been thinking about for the past two years that grappled him in the most unnerving ways. "Do you think they'll forgive me?" His question was soft and barely there— he was barely there himself anyway.

Satoru scoffed, except it sounded more fond than before. "They were always too forgiving of us. If you're worried about your purgatory being apologizing to them for eternity, then you're fine— it'd be too easy anyway." He joked softly, except his blank expression didn't quite add to the comfort or joke of it all.

I'd spend the rest of time apologizing. Suguru fought the urge to say.

"I figured."

"Suguru," Satoru took attentive steps forward, crouching down to his level. Their eyes met and there was something almost tangiable in that gaze of his. "I love you. I forgive you."

Suguru couldn't help the shock that flushed over his body. As the pain seemed to leave him completely, he used the last bits of his strength to show Satoru a true smile. The only one he could really conjure.

"You could at least curse me at the end."

As Satoru stared at him, as Yuta Okkotsu celebrated with his friends the victory and their safety, and as Suguru took his last breaths, his eyes trailed over Satoru's shoulder.

You stared back with a kind smile. Looking more alive than you had in the past ten years, you wore the clothes you had the day you died, your normal boring uniform. Suguru hated to admit he missed seeing those terrible uniforms.

"Suguru."

#✩࿐ t writes #♡ oneshot #jjk fic #jjk #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #geto suguru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk spoilers #geto suguru x curse!reader

1K notes · View notes

hangup119 · 6 months ago

Text

ඞ JOIN GAME?

twenty-two. galvanized steel and eco-friendly wood veneers

warnings: spoilers for jujutsu kaisen (manga only), cringe brain rot 😓

NERVOUS WOULD BE A COMPLETE AND UTTER UNDERSTATEMENT FOR WHAT ANTON LEE CURRENTLY FELT.

After he had made sure that the stream was officially over and that his camera was no longer running, he had made a quick dash towards the nearest mirror in a vain attempt of making sure he didn’t look too much of a try-hard with his outfit and hair. Only after making sure that he didn’t look like either, he gathered the last of his wits (what much was left after playing Resident Evil 4 for two whole hours anyway) and proceeded to make his way down to the lobby to finally meet the ”girl of his dreams,” according to the embarrassing, spur-of-the-moment tweet he had made earlier. He cringed just to even think back on it.

“Where is she?” Anton muttered as he stepped out of the elevator, quickly looking around the relatively empty lobby for any sign of you, much to no avail.

Well, this is it, he thought while attempting to steel his nerves for the umpteenth time. This was the moment all previous chapters have accumulated to—the peak of countless weeks of having known each other online in and out of streaming and private DMs he would sometimes think about during the crack of dawn on a random Tuesday. He figured that there wasn't much to do now since he already hyped himself up while he was cleaning this morning, and recently just now when he was still five floors above. Sure, he probably looked real stupid when he kept repeating affirmations to himself (“your rizz is real, your rizz is real…!”) in front of whoever was monitoring the CCTVs today, but Anton realized that he was far too skittish about your short-notice meet up to truly care about others’ perception of him anymore. Which, in hindsight, was concerning. He wonders if he needs to schedule an appointment at the doctor’s…

“Boo.”

Anton jumped lamely, cursing under his breath before having it immediately taken away when he turned around to face you.

You blinked up at him.

“Woah,” you said, a bit surprised, “you’re so… tall.”

“And you're so… short,” was his genius response.

“What was that?” you asked darkly. Anton gulped nervously, but then you looked at him quizzically. “No, like, seriously, what’d you say? I couldn’t hear you properly; your voice is too soft, man.”

Oh, okay. He almost breathed out a sigh of relief because you didn’t hear that.

“Nothing important,” Anton stammered, hastily ushering you towards the elevator doors without giving you a chance to say anything else. “Let’s just go. You wanna see the fish, right?”

“But I—…” you trailed off, watching him hurriedly press the buttons on the wall. “Yeah, okay,” you breathed out eventually, awkwardly fiddling with the straps of your bag. When the doors finally closed, Anton stood back and glanced at you briefly. It didn’t go unnoticed however, as you quickly returned the look, offering him a small, steady grin.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hi,” he nodded back at you, before tearing his gaze away.

Anton didn’t bother to say anything else, and neither did you, so it was safe to say that the ride towards the seventh floor ended up being a little awkward, what with him trying to discreetly steal glances at you every now and then without you noticing, far too busy finding out what’s so interesting about the elevator ceiling.

By the tenth urge, he realized just how hard it was to resist looking at you.

Truly, incredibly, and scarily concerning.

Now, don’t get it wrong: Anton’s not the kind to just fall for anyone that easily. Sure, he may be young and chronically online and knows too much brain rot-terminology for his own good, but he wasn’t some fourteen-year-old on Discord with a Ken Kaneki profile picture who’d join random servers that would probably die within three months, snag an E-Girlfriend within that time frame before breaking up with her because ‘LDR just won’t work out, babe, it’s not you, it’s me’ or however those situations would go. He was better than that, or so he’d like to think. (Although he was, unfortunately, a twenty-year-old on Discord.)

Point is, Anton wasn’t stupid enough to fall for just anyone he met online—much less someone he met on Roblox Altitorture, for goodness sake! He can entertain the thought of finding them pretty through pictures he’s seen online, yeah, and he can entertain his friend’s teasing remarks about his supposed crush on someone he hasn’t even met, but Anton liked to believe that it never was that serious. He wasn’t that jealous over you sitting all alone inside another guy’s house, looking after another guy’s fish, or planning to spend another guy’s fifty bucks on useless micro-transactions he could buy for you as quick as lightning without you having to lift a finger (and he has!), and he definitely wasn’t that serious when he accidentally blurted out a sentence that could potentially jeopardize the fanbase he had been steadily building up since he was fifteen, right?

And inviting you over to his house under the pretext of taking a look at his fish (who was probably in both Sungchan and Shotaro’s hit list) wasn't that serious.

…Right?

You’re just friends, Anton convinced himself when the two of you exited the elevator and walked towards his door. You’re just friends, Anton repeated inside his head as he typed in his PIN on the keypad. You’re just friends, he reassured when he finally swung the door op—

“God, you’re so rich,” you muttered the moment you entered his condo, and all thoughts of denial Anton had repeating in his mind suddenly came running out the window as he watched you remove your shoes at the front. “You have all this space to yourself?”

“My mom visits sometimes,” he squeaks out pathetically.

You looked back at him, a bemused smile on your face and—oh, who was Anton kidding? You’re way prettier in real life compared to the pictures he saw on Sohee’s Facebook post, and whether that was a good thing for his mental health or not—well, he didn’t want to find out anymore.

Wrongly assuming you’d head straight towards his fish tank, Anton found himself trailing after you as you started loitering by the living room. “Are these your parents?” you asked, signaling towards the multitude of frames on top of the wooden furniture. “You have a brother? He looks just like you.”

“Oh, yeah,” Anton affirmed, moving to point at the photos. “That’s my mom, my dad, and my younger brother. Over there are my grandparents.”

You whistled. “Wow, your mom’s really pretty,” you noted with a laugh, “she looks like she could be famous, or something.”

“Uh, she was an actress, actually.”

Your smile dropped as quickly as it appeared. Anton had to stifle back a snort.

“...For real?” you asked, carefully looking back at the picture and then towards him. He slowly nodded. “What? Don’t tell me your dad’s famous too? Your grandma? Your childhood dog? The mailman who steals your Amazon deliveries?”

His silence practically confirmed it, and you squawked in response. (Though you weren’t too sure about the mailman. The grandma and the dog? Sure, since even his fish was famous.)

“My dad’s a music producer,” Anton elaborated, moving away from you to head towards the corner where his fish, the supposed star of the day, resided at. “He’s over in Korea, though, so I don’t see him as often anymore.”

You followed after him, unsure of where else to go. “Your mom was an actress, and your dad’s some hot-shot music producer… and you decided to become a Let’s Play streamer?” you wondered to yourself, incredulous. Anton looked back at you indignantly, but you merely shrugged back at him. “I’m just saying, dude. You could be, like, I don’t know, a K-pop idol or something with those connections. Oh! You could be in NCT—what do you think of bright, green hair on those luscious locks of yours?”

Anton gave you a scalding side-eye.

“...Nah,” he eventually said with a shake of his head, a wistful grin on his face. “It’s a little late for that.”

You were about to say something else, something probably much more snarky to the absolute nonsense Anton responded to your suggestion with, but your words quickly died down inside your throat the moment a familiar shape of glass appeared in your vision. Anton promptly stepped aside to let you have your moment with his pet, unable to fight off the smile rising on his face as you approached the tank with wide, astonished eyes.

“Stonerland,” you breathed out quite dramatically, finally witnessing the white betta fish swim inside his lonesome tank. “You’re real.”

You inched closer towards the glass, but remained mindful not to touch it per Leehan’s wise teachings. The light from inside reflected onto your eyes, splashes of green and white appearing in them. It would’ve been off putting to anyone else who was observing you, the you who was unblinking as you stared at the oblivious animal, but you didn’t seem to care. You were completely and utterly entranced, lost in your own little world.

“...You’re so pretty,” you murmured, following Stonerland’s every move.

Your gaze slowly moved towards him.

“Right, Anton?” you asked, fully expecting him to be looking at the fish as well.

Instead, you were met with him already staring back at you, like those romance K-Dramas Eunseok always made him watch with their cliché fireworks scenes that always had Anton’s eyes rolling whenever it inevitably came up. They were all just copies of one another anyway—Han River, fireworks, and the main couple having the space all to themselves when it really should have been packed to the brim with other couples because it was South Korea.; he really could have cared less about such things (even if Eunseok swore to him that they were “peak”).

“Yeah,” he breathed out absentmindedly.

And because Anton always disliked watching those scenes, the thought of him doing the same thing, albeit at a different situation but with the same principle regardless, never crossed his mind.

But now, inside his place—the Han River—and watching his fish—the fireworks—with only the two of you beside each other, Anton didn’t even have the chance to roll his eyes because he was too busy staring at you, like some cliché male lead in some cliché romance K-Drama.

“Oh,” you said.

And then Anton blinked, snapping himself out of his reverie. “What?” he sputtered out, looking away from you and towards Stonerland, before inevitably bringing his gaze towards you again, only to shy away when you caught him in the act all over again. He coughed out, “What were you saying? Sorry, I was… I was thinking about something else.”

“Like what?” your head tilted to the side.

“Like,” Anton nervously began, licking his lips as he thought of something to respond with only to come up with blanks. “Like, uh—”

His eyes landed on Stonerland.

“—I was just thinking of ways that I could fortify his tank so evil, malicious forces won’t get to him…?” he cringed as the words just kept tumbling out of his mouth. “Because I’m low-key scared that if I invite the boys over, Sungchan and Shotaro will find a way to murder my fish when I’m not looking. Or something like that. I don’t know—I’m just getting bad vibes from them, you know? I might just be paranoid, though.”

Anton immediately found himself desperately avoiding your gaze, feeling the tips of his ears turn red at how stupid he must have sounded just now.

“No, I get it,” you said, which catched his attention. “Those two are definitely up to no good, since you practically memorialized the empire they worked so hard to destroy in the form of a fish. A small, helpless fish up against two grown men… yeah, maybe just don’t invite them over.”

Anton looked at you hopefully, only to be immediately let down when you continued.

“To be honest, if Stonerland was your pet fish in Minecraft, I’d probably blow it up when you aren’t looking too. Redstone engineering and all, it’d look like a whole fireworks show,” you added bluntly, watching the tank with blank eyes. After a second, however, you quickly look back at him with an easygoing smile, cheerfully saying, “Good thing Stonerland’s a real fish, right? So cute! Betta fishes are the best…” you sighed wistfully.

You didn’t bother commenting on the look of absolute horror on Anton’s face, too busy cooing at his fish as if you had not just threatened to blow it up in another life.

He looked at Stonerland—poor and unassuming Stonerland, oblivious to the evils surrounding him and his owner. He wasn’t even safe from the girl who kept squealing over him, simply because of his given name. Poor, poor Stonerland indeed. Anton briefly considered changing the unfortunate fish’s name, maybe install some galvanized steel beams around his tank and some eco-friendly wood veneers for extra protection just in the slightest case anyone would dare to think of hurting his precious betta fish, but he was definitely putting up a sign that had Sungchan and Shotaro’s names crossed off on his front door.

He slowly turned to you, meekly saying, “Please don’t hurt him.”

You looked at him, absolutely flabbergasted. “Stonerland’s a guy?”

“Yeah?” Anton’s eyebrows furrowed. “...You didn’t know?”

“What!” you gaped. “But the fins…! It’s so pretty and long!”

“Male betta fishes have longer fins, and they’re much leaner,” Anton explained, pointing at Stonerland’s white, flowy fins. “Shouldn’t you know this? Isn’t that Leehan guy you’re friends with a fish-expert or whatever?”

You pouted. “Well, he is, but he doesn’t own any bettas… so I don't know if he knows anything about them.”

“Hm, so Leehan doesn’t know shit about bettas, the coolest fish ever. I see.”

He felt pride quickly bubble inside his chest when you looked at him expectantly. “Right, yeah! Bettas are so cool! And you know so much about them; that’s so cool!”

“Nah,” he pretended to be humble, scratching the nape of his neck. “I just did my research.”

“You should buy a black one,” you continued enthusiastically, “so they can swim together! Isn’t that cute?”

Anton deadpanned. “Uh, they’ll probably fight to death if that happens…”

“Oh, so like SatoSugu,” you said blandly.

Yeah, whatever that means, Anton thought.

The both of you stayed there for a little while more, with most of it spent on useless chatter and you taking hundreds of photos of his fish, so much so that Anton worried whether your phone’s storage was about to reach its limit, however you didn’t seem to care. He honestly didn’t know what exactly was so enamoring about the fish—it was just some small living creature that came with flowy fins and a penchant for loneliness, and all it would do is swim and eat and live off of Anton’s paycheck, but he supposed that if you enjoyed looking at it so much, then he was fine with keeping it. Heck, he’d be fine with protecting it against Sungchan and Shotaro, if it meant that it would keep you happy to see it was still alive.

Which is, again, concerning. Anton never meant for any of this to happen—he never meant for him to wake up on a random Friday and decide that he was gonna let you into his house when you were, at the core of this situation, just some girl he had just coincidentally met online—and at a kids’ game of all places.

But between the calls you’ve shared, the jokes, the countless hours you’ve spent together playing games, and the private DMs you’ve shared where no one else could interrupt him teasing subtweets or obsessive ramblings from either shippers or haters, then Anton figured that getting Stonerland was worth all the trouble and money (and Wonbin’s constant whining at the bus) just to see you smiling towards the tank.

…So, yeah, maybe he was jealous of you sitting all alone in another guy’s house, watching another guy’s fish, planning on using the money you earned to purchase useless micro-transactions he could easily buy for you, and maybe accidentally blurting out a sentence that could potentially ruin his career was all the more worth it when you are literally standing right next to him now.

Anton never thought that everything would eventually lead up to this moment, and he might not be extremely smitten with you right now the way those male leads in K-Dramas would be, at least he doesn’t think so, but what he knows is that there was already a tiny voice inside his head constantly saying that, eventually, at a moment when he least expects it, it will happen.

“If you want, I can buy you a black betta fish,” he started, leaning his chin on his palm, “and then we’d have matching fishes. Just like SatoSugu, right?”

You glanced back at him, a little bit shocked. But then your eyes twinkled, and a laugh escaped from your lips. Anton found himself smiling back.

“No way,” you said, “you don’t have to do all that. You already bought me some Robux.”

“It was literally just twenty dolla—”

You cut him off. “Plus, one of them dies anyway," you said grimly, your expression darkening. "Actually, they both die."

That quickly shut him up.

You continued with a snap of your fingers. “You know what, I’ll just tell you their whole lore—no, wait, we should just watch Jujutsu Kaisen instead! Do you have a Netflix account? Let’s binge the first season.”

Seemingly without a choice, Anton promptly handed you the remote to his TV, staring blankly ahead while he followed you towards his couch.

It seemed that it was also safe to say that your online personality translated perfectly into real life. For better or for worse.

previous | masterlist | next

SYNOPSIS. not everyone is good at playing obby’s on roblox, and you’re no exception to this rule: after a particularly nasty encounter with another player on roblox’s altitorture, you log into twitter only to find out that the very same player who publicly dunked on your gaming skills turns out to be anton lee, a well-known streamer who also happens to be a friend of a friend. fed up with his fans bombarding your dms with teasing remarks or jealous musings, you decide to end it once and for all by appearing on his next stream with a promise to get through an obby successfully. however, you realize that the only thing you’ll be successful at is falling for anton lee instead.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. wooo first written chapter! what do you guys think so far??? i really like putting the pov on anyone else BUT y/n, it makes her more mysterious HAHA

TAGLIST. (closed) @shoberi @gisellessgf @serafilms @palchokitty @seunghancore @nujeskz @hisrkive e @alwayswook @emohoon @milktea-academia @kyusqult @dolloie @slutforjeno @meowbini @yizhuobberi @fae-renjun @kcharlyy @whoisgwyn @saranghoeforanton @au-ghosttype @gyehyeonist t @dodot04lover @outrologist @papichulomacy @odxrilove @maleegayuh @ilovejungwonandhaechan @dalsosapple @starwonb1n @tojis-luver r @slayhaechan @lakoya @he6rtshaker @rikianton @brachioswrld @woonagi-lemon @ffixtionista @endtostartbreathin @ki3ntot t @bidibaabidiboo @totheseok @astrae4 @hanbinniesmango o @daegale @regrool @sunflowerbebe07 @taroddori @miyawwn @snowyseungs @p-d1ddy

474 notes · View notes