#i only have 3 friends dude if you stop talking to me i have only 2 left lmao

[juustokaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 8. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as body dysmorphia, paranoid thoughts and more. Possessive and obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, violence. Dark themes are to be expected. A brief situation of harassment (not by any of the members) in this chapter. A/N: Forgive me for the long wait! I hope the chapter won't be disappointing or incoherent... I like writing this story but my own judgmental thoughts honestly are a kill of joy. I'm happy to receive feedback, be it constructive criticism or positive words. I hope someone will enjoy this <3 Word count: 4 062 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once again, you held the phone to your ear. The sound of the phone ringing was quiet and stable but it did not lessen your anxiety at all. Eventually it stopped ringing, leaving you in heavy silence. 

Jongho hadn’t answered this time either. You had tried to call him at least 20 times in a span of couple days, but it was like he had disappeared from the face of the Earth. Despite being upset at him, you were more worried than you wanted to admit. You also missed him, his stoic nature, and the unexpected moments of sweetness. 

Frustrated, you tossed the phone away. Was Jongho so childish and stubborn that he hid from you on purpose after you had kicked him out of your home? Or could he be in danger? You couldn’t help but feel bad for banishing him. That was how he probably wanted you to feel, but there was nothing to do about the feeling. 

Spring, the season of hope and new beginnings, was near so the weather was warming up. Still, it was already late in the evening. The nights at that time of the year were still cold, and you grabbed a warm jacket; one that did not attract attention. You feared the possibility that some creep would notice and follow you in the dimly lit streets of the little city you lived in. 

Maybe in another life you would have liked walks outside. But this world was evil. If you already hated being outside even in the daylight, when the moon rose on the sky, your senses were heightened to a maximum. 

The walk to Jongho’s place wasn’t practically that long despite it being on a completely different area of the city. He actually lived in a house instead of a crappy, crampy apartment like you did. 

You were always astonished by his house. It was of an appropriate size but screamed how rich he was. A slightly annoyed huff fell from your lips as you thought about how he had said you couldn’t go ice skating for it being too expensive. Dude lived in the most prestigious area of the city but complained about the cost of ice skating. The memory made you smile nonetheless. 

There was a gate separating his yard and house from the street. You rang the doorbell on it, wishing sincerely he’d let you in or at least talk to you. 

The weather wasn’t windy but you still felt cold. Maybe Jongho would see you shivering and let you in out of pity. That is if he was even alive anymore. 

The house stood dark and tall in front of you, and the only thing separating you from Jongho was the gate. Your heart clenched at the unbearable thought of having lost him forever. Losing his friendship felt even harder knowing that you had never had much friends in the first place. 

After 10 minutes, you walked away from the house, steps heavy 9with disappointment. You had driven Jongho away with your anger. It was difficult to remember in that moment that your anger had been completely justified. You just wanted to see Jongho again. 

As if the situation hadn’t been depressing enough already, small, cool drops of water fell on your skin. Even the sky was crying with you.  

You kept walking, bravely telling yourself that you didn’t care about the rain turning into a downpour. But eventually, it started bothering you too much. It was cold, wet and dark, and you felt yourself getting frustrated. 

You found a shelter next to a small grocery store that was nearing its closing hours. Sure, it would have been wiser to go inside the store to warm up for a moment, but you were just going to stay in the shelter for a moment for the rain to stop. 

Some people walked past you out of the store occasionally but you were too deep in your thoughts to pay attention to it. Then a voice of a man clearly talking to you snapped you out of it. 

“Waiting for the rain to stop, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you glanced at the man quickly, not wanting to give him too much attention. 

Noticing that the middle-aged man was dressed up in dirty clothes and reeked of alcohol made you already uneasy. But the look in his dazed eyes was more concerning; he eyed you up and down, and smiled at you. It was not a kind nor inviting smile. It was a predatory smile flashed at you with yellow teeth. 

“I can wait with you so you won’t be lonely.” 

You felt your heartrate speed up. There was no way that man had good intentions with the way he shifted closer to you. 

“Thanks, but there’s no need to... Your groceries should be taken to your fridge quickly before they get bad.” 

Your attempt to politely refuse his offer didn’t work. 

“Oh, sweet girl. Don’t worry, I don’t have any purchases that need immediate care,” the man grinned and moved closer once again to show the contents of his plastic bag. 

It didn’t surprise you to find the bag was filled with beer bottles. You had to come up with a new excuse. 

“What about your wife? She’s surely waiting for you already.” 

“Hm? You’re prettier than her. Not so wrinkly and not always nagging about my drinking.” 

You felt disgusted on so many levels; the man had no right to talk that way about his wife when he looked like a malformed abomination of a rat that had escaped from the sewers. Hell, no man should talk about their own wife like that, no matter the looks. 

“A pretty girl like you deserves a man like me. Young men nowadays are so feminine and sensitive,” the man smirked arrogantly, “A true man knows his own power and how to use it to his advantage.” 

Your hand slipped inside your pocket. It was not for warmth but for reaching the pepper spray. Everyone used to laugh at you for carrying that because you’d probably never have to use it. But you’d have the last laugh. 

“What are you hiding in your pockets?” the man’s eyes were directed at your hands, a deep frown settling on his face. 

“J-Just warming up my hands.” 

“Bullshit. Are you trying to call the police on me?” 

If you were afraid before, now you were definitely terrified. How could you even use the pepper spray when your hands were trembling in fear? 

“You stupid bitch. What did I even do? Women don’t appreciate compliments these days anymore!” the man shouted angrily, and instead of standing lazily like before, he turned his body wholly towards you. 

You couldn’t freeze in that moment. No way in hell were you going to let that man touch you. 

But as you were about to pull the pepper spray from your pocket, a familiar voice caught both your and the man’s attention. 

“Step away from her.” 

Your head snapped into the direction of the voice, and you noticed; Yunho stood there, firm and commanding. For the first time in your life, you saw him in a good light. The long coat he wore could have been a superhero cloak, that’s how grateful you were. 

“Who are you to command me like that?” the drunkard scoffed at Yunho. 

But as Yunho walked closer, the man seemingly realized how much taller Yunho was, how much at disadvantage the man was. 

“I’m telling you one last time to step away and leave immediately.” 

“Pfft. What are you? A policeman?” the man attempted to assert dominance and show off his fragile masculinity. 

“In fact, I am. Although I’m off-duty, I have a couple weapons with me,” Yunho said, clearly not intimidated at all, “I won’t shoot you but I can guarantee that getting tazed doesn’t feel pleasant either.” 

To emphasize his words, Yunho pulled out a taser and swung it in his hands. The other man’s defiant expression morphed into a pathetic look of fear. 

“Sorry, man. I’ll go,” the man rushed away like there was a tail between his legs. 

You looked at Yunho with admiration. Even the guilt for doubting his intentions and nature before didn’t shake your mind at that moment; you just needed desperately to show your appreciation for him. 

Still, the best you could do was look at Yunho with wide eyes and utter a few words. 

“Thank you.” 

Yunho smiled, looking almost giddy when you talked to him, “I just did my duty.” 

“Your duty as a policeman?” 

“Yes, but mostly my duty as your personal protector.” 

A little giggle left your lips at Yunho’s comment. There was a warm feeling of gratitude in your chest. Yunho had never been a bad man after all although acting quite weirdly occasionally. 

“I’m more than just grateful. You saved me from a dangerous situation.” 

Yunho’s cheeks flushed and an adorable, sheepish smile spread on his lips. Having been always suspicious of him, you hadn’t realized before how sweet he looked every time you talked to him.  

“Let me walk you home. You must be scared after meeting that creep,” Yunho extended his hand out for you. In his other hand he held an umbrella which had a Spiderman print. 

What was the worst thing that could happen if you took his hand in yours? 

You felt like the company of a man who had proven his good intentions would bring you safety on your way home. You grabbed Yunho’s large hand in yours, feeling comforted yet a little nervous. 

“So, you like Spiderman?” 

Yunho chuckled at your question. He seemed overjoyed to walk hand-in-hand with you even though it was raining cats and dogs. 

“He’s what I want to become. A hero.” 

You smiled softly and couldn’t resist the temptation to say something corny, “You’re already my hero.” 

Yunho laughed heartily and glanced at you. His eyes were twinkling, replacing the stars that couldn’t be seen that night due to the clouded sky. 

“What are you doing out this late anyways?” he inquired. 

The air felt a little colder again as your thoughts wandered to Jongho. 

“Jongho has disappeared. I’ve tried to contact him but there’s no answer,” you revealed, “I went to his house tonight in hopes of finding him there, but it’s like he’s avoiding me.” 

Something flickered in Yunho’s eyes for a split second before a thoughtful look set on his face. He squeezed your hand a little. 

“That must be rough. He’s your boyfriend after all.” 

“Well, not anymore. There was an incident that led to me breaking up with him,” you muttered. 

The man next to you nodded and spoke again, “I can help you find him. I’m a policeman, you know? We may not have enough reason to report him as missing, but I have my knowledge of finding missing people as my offer.” 

Yunho’s hand may have been warm but the smile on his face was even warmer; it comforted you. 

When the two of you eventually stood at your doorstep, Yunho’s reluctance to let go of your hand was clear. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed in concern. 

“Are you okay? The man must have scared you badly.” 

You let go of Yunho’s hand to pull the pepper spray out of your pocket. 

“You’re my favorite hero but this one will come in handy sometimes too,” you chuckled. 

Yunho smiled, “Just call me whenever you need help with anything. And I mean anything.” 

You offered your phone for Yunho to type in his number. Suddenly, he frowned. 

“Why is your home screen wallpaper a picture of you and Yeosang?” he asked, voice a few degrees colder than before. 

It was strange to see that sweet man get so worked up over a simple picture. 

“Yeosang is practically my only friend. I like to have a reminder of that now I have someone to rely on.” 

The embarrassment in your voice was clear as you were forced to explain your sad situation of friendships. At least Yunho’s expression softened. 

“I’ll be your friend from now on. Make sure to spend time with me... and change that wallpaper,” Yunho spoke. 

The next week Jongho wasn’t at the group therapy meeting. Just like the week before, he was gone, leaving you worried. But at least now you had someone who would be able to help search for him. 

The room felt so empty without him but no-one else seemed to care. 

Charlotte didn’t even question Jongho’s absence that time, just moving straight to the activities of the day. 

“Find yourself a pair,” Charlotte guided with a mysterious smile, “I won’t tell you what the activity is yet.” 

Wooyoung and San paired up immediately, and Seonghwa and Hongjoong glanced at each other in agreement. They had found their cliques, the person who they got along with the best. It was beyond your understanding though how someone as sweet as Seonghwa could like Hongjoong. 

You didn’t even have time to get up from your seat when Yunho had appeared in front of you like out of thin air. You felt a little intimidated and small while he stood over you, but the fear you used to feel around him was gone. He was just a gentle giant, the hero who had saved you from a situation that could have escalated. 

“Be my pair,” Yunho requested. 

His request was tempting but there was someone else standing a little farther away, looking at you longingly; it was Yeosang. 

“I think Yeosang wants-” 

“Please,” Yunho said, voice soft and almost vulnerable. 

You didn’t want to betray Yeosang but Yunho’s sad look tugged at your heartstrings. It didn’t take too long for you to give an apologetic look to Yeosang and a nod for Yunho. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw Yeosang walk over to Mingi and pair up with him. You’d apologize to Yeosang later. 

Yunho sat down next to you, his long legs brushing against yours briefly. Now that he was sitting next to you just like the first time you met, he seemed satisfied. 

“The topic of today is relationships to other people. Discuss with your partner about the person who has the most meaning in your life right at this moment,” Charlotte revealed the task. 

That was the hardest topic for you so far. There had never been much people to start with who would have cared about you as you cared about them. It was a curse to love but to be unable to be loved. Sometimes you wished upon the stars that you could stop caring about people. However, no matter how much you cried after lost friends, the universe just brought more people to lose into your life. 

Maybe that’s why Jongho’s disappearance bothered you so much. Losing another friend was expected but the way he had completely vanished was slowly breaking you apart. You couldn’t help but blame yourself. It had been completely justified to kick him out of your apartment that day he threw the plate on Yeosang’s face; you shouldn’t feel ashamed. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” 

Yunho’s voice brought you back on Earth, saving you from your drowning thoughts. 

You might have lost Jongho’s friendship but you gained Yunho’s. It was just the matter of time when you’d mess up that situation as well. 

“I’m okay. I was just thinking what to talk about in this topic,” your smile was weak yet reassuring enough. 

“If it helps you, I can go first,” Yunho suggested. 

At your nod, Yunho began to talk about the person who meant the most to him. His eyes practically shined like he was passionate about the chance to finally tell you about the love of his life. 

“There’s a woman who stole my heart a couple years ago. I haven’t been able to think about anyone else after she caught my attention.” 

It was honestly adorable to hear Yunho ramble about the woman. A hint of jealousy gnawed at your insides; for someone to love you like Yunho loved the woman was a dream. 

“The way she walked out of the police station, the way she talked to the other officers, scared and needing help... It made me realize the meaning of my life isn’t to protect all the people. It’s to protect her.” 

Yunho was clearly devoted. His words were sweet at first. The way he talked about her was a clear indication of how much she had affected his life. But suddenly his words took a slightly darker turn. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe and happy in my arms. It doesn’t matter if I have to burn her house or the whole world as long as she runs to me for safety,” Yunho spoke, his voice loving, the complete opposite of his words. 

“Wow, she’s one lucky girl,” you chuckled nervously. 

Surely Yunho must have meant it as a joke. He was a man of justice, not an arsonist. 

“She’s my lucky girl,” Yunho smiled softly at you, “So, who is the person you hold dear to your heart?” 

You still hadn’t come up with a good answer. The only friends you had in that moment were Yeosang and Yunho, but you knew neither of them well enough. Jongho had grown quite close with you, at least you liked to think so, but he was gone now. 

“I don’t really have people who are close to me,” you admitted reluctantly, feeling unsure if you should tell these kinds of things. 

“Just say anyone.” 

“Well, I think Yeosang is the closest to me right now.” 

Yunho’s encouraging smile turned into a frown. It baffled you; there was always a chance that you could be the woman Yunho loved, but he had mentioned having met her a couple years ago already. 

“Yeosang? Why him?” 

“I think he’s kind to me, and we’ve hung out a lot.” 

Your murmured explanation didn’t satisfy Yunho. It was obvious how hard he tried to control his facial expressions, to hide how upset he was. 

“Haven’t I been kind to you?” Yunho inquired. 

“Yes, you have but-”  

“Did you change your wallpaper yet?” 

“I-I forgot,” as soon as you answered, Yunho grabbed your purse and started going through the contents of it. 

Your eyes widened as he took the matter of changing your wallpaper into his own hands. He was rummaging through your little bag, and you couldn’t let that happen. A woman’s purse was a private thing, especially when that woman was slightly paranoid at the excuse of valued safety. 

“Hey! Give it back,” you reached for your purse. 

Yunho didn’t care and kept taking things out of it, letting them fall to the floor. Some makeup, a hairbrush and wallet were already in everyone’s sight. 

“Yunho, give Y/N her bag back, please,” Charlotte finally tried to stop the situation but her spineless words meant nothing to Yunho. 

You tried desperately to gather your things before anything too personal would be revealed, but Yunho just kept throwing things out. 

“What is this?” Wooyoung grabbed an object from the floor, inspecting it in his hand. 

Your face heated up at the sight of Wooyoung holding something private. Gazing at him angrily from the floor, you were about to demand him to give it back. 

“That’s a woman diaper!” Mingi exclaimed, shocked at the unbelievable, astonishing, mind-blowing sight of a menstrual pad. 

You couldn’t believe this was happening. All your stuff on the floor for everyone to see and judge, and now Wooyoung and Mingi had humiliated you with their discovery. 

“No, Mingi. That is called a menstrual pad,” Charlotte spoke softly like talking to a child. 

You wished Jongho was there to knock some sense into everyone. Most likely, he wouldn’t have even done that, but you liked to believe he would have defended your honor. The honor that went down the drain like your appreciation and respect for Yunho. 

San snatched the pad from Wooyoung’s hands, clearly frustrated. With no hesitation he walked to you and kneeled down on your level. 

“Let me help you,” he said quietly and gave you the pad. 

It was just a mere hygiene product, but to you, it felt like he was giving the prettiest flower bouquet ever. In your moment of helplessness, he had wanted to help you. 

San started gathering the objects from the floor to their rightful place, your purse. His lips were pressed tightly together like he was feeling annoyed. 

“You don’t have to help if you don’t want to,” you spoke quietly, feeling exhausted because of the emotional rollercoaster. 

“I want to help,” he looked up a little to give you a gentle smile, “What kind of a person would I be if I didn’t?” 

“Apparently the kind everyone else is.” 

San chuckled at your bitter mumble. You could see he was holding back his own irritation to calm you down. 

Soon, Yeosang joined in to help you and San. You were grateful for those two; the only people in the room you respected. Seonghwa had the potential to be one of those as well, but his friendship with Hongjoong made you mentally avoid him. 

Once all your belongings were back in the purse, you turned to Yunho. It was hard to be angry at people whether you knew them well or not; if you knew someone well, you were afraid they’d leave you and if you didn’t know them well, you were afraid they’d be violent. That’s why expressing your feelings of hurt felt dangerous. 

You snatched your phone away from Yunho. Surprisingly, the wallpaper hadn’t been changed. 

“Why is the wallpaper still the same?” you were gritting your teeth as you spoke. 

“I couldn’t unlock your phone,” Yunho’s expression turned guilty, “Look, I’m sorry-” 

“Save it. I’m going home.” 

You had gone through that terrible moment just for Yunho to not even change your wallpaper. Sure, you should have been glad he couldn’t unlock your phone, but it felt somehow so futile. 

As you rid the bus home, you couldn’t help but think; the group therapy didn’t feel helpful or healing at all. You had found Yeosang and Jongho through it, but at what cost? One of the members was a stalker for God’s sake. 

Speaking of which, you hadn’t noticed much signs of the stalker in the near days. Would it have been naive to think that fake dating Jongho could have scared him away? Probably yes. 

You got off the bus and started making your way back to home. Usually, it was darker at that time of the day, but the seasons were changing. You wished you could change too. You wished you could put an end to your sickness and struggles, to live a normal life, so you wouldn’t have to deal with the sickos at the group therapy. 

Maybe it was time to stop going to the therapy. You’d rather live without the social assistance of the government than step inside the nightmarish room of armchairs and supposedly therapeutic talk again. 

As you arrived at your door, you reached into your purse like you did every day. A twinge of panic twitched inside your chest as you couldn’t find your keys. They were most likely just deeper inside the purse, and you’d have to look again. 

But no matter how much you searched, the keys weren’t there in your purse, jingling like they always did. There was no sight of them even when you emptied the whole purse. 

You were positive you, Yeosang, and San had picked up all the objects from the floor. All your other belongings were with you but the keys were gone. It would have been more pleasant if the damn pad had been left behind, but now you were denied the access to your own apartment. 

It was possible that someone took your keys when they were still on the floor.  

But now the most important thing was to find a place you could sleep at. You didn’t trust your neighbors and you couldn’t afford a hotel room. After some thinking you realized your only option was to beg Yeosang to let you sleep in his apartment. Such a splendid idea to have a sleepover with a man you met in a therapy group for mentally ill.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <- Chapter 7. Chapter 9. -> Masterlist ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Taglist: @devilzliaison @lover-with-dolar-sign-is-a-loser @passerbyforfun @gigikubolong29 @peqchplvto

[casualhedonists]

DATING IS SO HARD WTF

[bigboymoozz]

Ok Google how to tell if 2/3 of Mt longest term friends hate me and how can I apologize for something I'm not aware of

[hairmetal666]

Eddie owns a record store, gets to talk about music everyday. Life is good. Great, actually.

He's consolidating the Christian rock section on a quiet Wednesday morning when it happens. A man with swoopy dark hair, tight dark blue jeans, and a plum Member's Only jacket walks in, and doesn't take his Ray Bans off even once he's solidly inside.

Eddie is awestruck. This dude is gorgeous. Heart stopping. He watches him browse in quiet astonishment, unable to say anything until he blurts, "Can I help you find something?"

The man smiles--Eddie's heart stops--and he says, "Nah, just browsing. Your sign caught my eye."

And he's still not quite with the program, the rich honey of the man's voice taking him totally by surprise. "Ah, oh, it did?" He manages after a few long beats. "Painted it myself."

"No shit? It's great."

"Thanks, man. I also think it's some of my finest work."

The guy laughs. "How can I know unless I see some of your other pieces?"

Eddie's face heats, but he's never been known for having good impulse control. "Maybe you'll get lucky."

Spots of pink bloom on the man's cheeks and the tips of his ears. "And here I was, thinking I was getting special treatment."

Eddie cocks his head, smiles big. "Well, the day's still young." It's so risky and stupid; no way this guy is queer, but he grins at Eddie, laughs a little too.

"That right? Well, tell me your latest recommendations."

"For you?" Eddie eyes him up and down. "Wham!"

The guy's laugh is warm and rich and Eddie wants to drown in it. "Big of you to say for a someone who's only listened to Enter Sandman for the last four months."

Eddie cackles, points a be-ringed finger. "It's a good song! A great record."

"Hey, I've got no problem with Metallica. I just don't think you should be casting aspersions on Wham!."

"Casting aspersions, do you have a word of the day calendar or some shit?"

"No! It's toilet paper."

Their snickers grow until they're both hysterical, needing to lean against a display to stay upright.

It's like he's living in a dream, hitting it off with a beautiful man who just happened to stumble into his store. They catch their breath and Eddie uses the time to grab a record off a nearby shelf.

"Here," he says. "Try this."

"Joni Mitchell?"

"Don't tell me, Wham! fan, that you're too cool for Joni."

"Nah, she's my best friend's favorite. How much do I owe you?"

"On the house," Eddie shrugs.

"Shit, that's generous. Thanks, man. Now, about your art--" He glances at the shiny watch on his wrist. "Fuck, is it really 3:15? Goddamnit, I gotta get going."

And Eddie wants to call him back, doesn't want this dream encounter to end, but he's dashing to the door--

And just like that, the man is gone, the only evidence it ever happened the lingering chime of the bell over the door.

The bell clatters again, and his head wrenches up hard enough it hurts his neck.

"Was that Steve Harrington?" the customer shrieks.

"No," he scoffs. Except. Except. The hair and the clothes and sunglasses and the face and his lips--

"No!?" He feels the way his eyes have gone wide with panic. He didn't just flirt with Steve Harrington. Of course not. Not ever. He would've recognized--

He runs to the racks of magazines in front of the register, grabbing the latest issue of People. The cover features a glossy, polished photo of the man who just left the store. The one who had the highest grossing movie of the summer alongside his co-star, Julia Roberts. The one who, according to the article within, is in Chicago right now shooting a new movie. The one who Eddie flirted with. The one who flirted back.

He groans and covers his face with his hands. At least he'll never see Steve Harrington again.

---

Harrington comes back.

The second time, he's wearing a jewel blue polo and fitted slacks, Ray Bans nowhere to be seen.

"Got anymore recommendations?" Steve asks.

"What?" Eddie's still trying to accept that Harrington came back.

"I finished Joni. It was good. Recommend something else for me."

Fully with the program, he reaches to the rack behind him, handing the vinyl to Steve without ever taking his eyes off him.

"Seriously?" Steve deadpans.

"Tell me you don't deserve it after last time."

Steve studies the cover of Metallica, a complicated look on his face. "Fine, but you have to listen to the album George Michael released last year."

He mimics getting shot in the heart. "After my magnanimous first suggestion, you dare to punish me with Freedom?"

"Think of it more as an opportunity."

"To regret every decision I've ever made?"

"To expand your musical horizons."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Fiiiine. It's a deal."

Steve beams. "Good! Ring me up."

And Eddie, he'd comp it again, but Steve gives him this look that tells him not to try it.

As they pass the magazine racks, Eddie points at one featuring Steve on the cover. "That thing you wore to the Vanity Fair party last month was hideous."

Steve snorts, then laughs. "Thanks. My stylist decided to go for something--"

"--terrible?--"

"Avant garde."

"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?"

Steve pays, throws Eddie one last smile, "next time?"

Eddie nods, already certain this time is the last one.

---

He keeps coming back.

Eddie tries not to read into it.

Steve is straight, famously has a girlfriend. former horror movie child star turned cinema wunderkind, Nancy Wheeler. They're always on the covers of the tabloids, in ever more improbable stories about affairs and secret babies and french countryside weddings.

But he keeps coming back. And eventually, they grab dinner. And that dinner becomes lunches, movies, clubs, concerts. Eddie's in paparazzi photos, and there's no speculation about their relationship. Steve has a girlfriend.

But sometimes. Sometimes Steve will rest his hand on Eddie's nape, his lower back, let it linger. He'll trace a finger down the tattoos on Eddie's forearms or the patches of his battle vest. He'll lean too close when they talk, unafraid to press their bodies together. And he catches Steve's eyes on his mouth more than once, his pupils wide.

Over the next few weeks, Steve's gaze on Eddie's mouth gets hotter, his looks longer, and it's killing him. All he wants to do, all he ever wants to do, is close the distance between them, appease the gnawing beast of desire in his chest.

But Steve has a girlfriend.

They don't talk about her, not even when he knows all about Steve's best friend, Robin, and the gang of kids who adopted him, or Joyce and Hopper, his surrogate parents. Never Nancy.

He tries not to read into it.

---

They're supposed to meet for dinner. Steve scored reservations at a trendy new restaurant, but Eddie's late. Astronomically, horrifically late. It's pouring rain, it takes fifteen minutes to get a cab, traffic is a nightmare.

Out of patience and time, he decides to run the last few blocks to the restaurant. By the time he reaches the building, he's soaked to the bone, spluttering harsh breaths through mouthfuls of rain.

Steve is walking in the opposite direction, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.

"Steve?" He calls.

He turns and this is the first time Eddie's seen him angry. "You're late," Steve's eyes rake over him, and his face softens in an instant. He takes Eddie's wrist, leads him into an alley where the buildings are close enough to block some of the rain.

"What happened?"

"Traffic."

Steve's gaze go all soft and gentle, and Eddie's knees buckle a little. "You look like a drowned rat."

"Yeah, well." Eddie scoffs. "We can't all be beautiful movie stars."

"You're more beautiful than I could ever be, even soaking wet."

He shakes his head, ignoring the cascade of butterflies; Steve shouldn't say things like that. His vigorous movement sends wet strands of hair slapping him in the face.

Steve reaches out, softly brushes it back.

Eddie stops breathing.

Steve closes the distance between them.

What a thing, to be kissed by Steve Harrington. What a terrible, glorious thing.

He breaks it fast, face red, can't catch his breath. "Nancy," is all he can say.

"Nancy?"

"You have a girlfriend."

Steve's face scrunches. "She's not my girlfriend."

Eddie's mouth drops. "Yes, she is." They went to the Oscars together.

"Eddie." Steve takes a few steps back. "Eddie. I'm gay."

He laughs, an ugly honking thing. "C'mon. What could she possibly get out of that?"

Steve's eyes widen, eyebrows reaching his hairline, mouth pursed in a bitchy line. It takes Eddie a minute but, "Ohhhhh. So, it's all--?"

"It was the best way."

"But you're--?"

"I thought you clocked me immediately! Wham!???"

"That was because of the jacket!"

"Have you ever met a straight man who dresses like I do and likes George Michael??"

"That describes five dudes I see a day!"

"And you thought they were straight??"

Eddie stares into the middle distance, replaying some of those interactions, and--"Huh. Okay. I get hit on at work waaay more than I realized."

"For fuck's sake, Eddie!" He's shaking his head, but Eddie sees the way the corners of his mouth shake with suppressed laughter.

"I'm sorry! You have a very public straight relationship!"

Steve giggles, pulls Eddie close. "Is this okay?"

"So okay."

"You do like me back?"

"Are you kidding! Thought I was going insane, how much I want you."

"And now?"

"Come back to my place?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

And Eddie, he's seen Steve playing at love dozens of times, but this--right here, in a soggy, smelly alley where they're both soaking wet--it's more perfect than any movie.

[everythingne]

unbothered - op81

oscar's longtime girlfriend is a ballroom dancer. fans don't like that she has to dance with other people. oscar could not give a shit what people say.

ballroom dancer!reader x oscar piastri // fc: parley and natalie

requested by @starlightdelrey (thank you darling!)

warnings/notes: rumors of cheating (no one is cheating), i know nothing about ballroom dancing other than it looks so fucking cool so take this mwah

liked by oscarpiastri, ronaniliano, hattipiastri, and others...

yourusername: thanks to all who supported us at the US National Dancesport Championships! we may not have gotten a trophy this weekend, but any weekend is good when I'm dancing with my bestie @ ronaniliano <3 (FINALLY!!! now that his ankle is no longer sprained!)

ronaniliano: in the words of my king matthew lillard: "i always come back"

⤷ yourusername: u wanna rewatch that with some post-comp ramen?

⤷ ronaniliano: yes girl lets go

⤷ user: ronan and yn's friendshippp omg

user1: congrats! welcome back to my favorite duo <3

oscarpiastri: ❤️

⤷ yourusername: omg u actually commented?

⤷ oscarpiastri: my mom told me i had to

⤷ yourusername: @ nicolepiastri have i ever said how much i love you?

⤷ nicolepiastri: yes! hundreds of times! but i never mind hearing it again from you !

hattiepiastri: how much to do a txt routine.

⤷ yourusername: i cant perform it but ill bribe ronan into making one for u

⤷ hattiepiastri: as payment, next time ur in aus ill pay for hungry jacks

liked by oscarpiastri, michealchen, ronaniliano, and others...

yourusername: nom nom nom >:) eating some gold this weekend at @ ohiostarball ! shout out to @ michealchen for the dress this weekend, i felt like a little princesss !!

michealchen: thanks for making my designs shine!

ronaniliano: the prettiest princess on the dancefloor

⤷ yourusername: awe u make me blush :)

⤷ user: uhm... flirting?? on main??

hattiepiastri: lets FUCKING GOOO!!!!!

user1: the way ronan looks at yn omg

⤷ user2: how are they not dating

⤷ user3: no they have to be

⤷ user4: but yn literally has a whole ass boyfriend of six years?

⤷ user1: guys chill they're friends ?? yn has said this before.

oscarpiastri: ❤️

⤷ user5: bro STAND UP. USE UR EYES

⤷ user1: stop being a fucking freak dude

liked by hattiepiastri, ronaniliano, oscarpiastri, and others...

yourusername: big hugs for such a big finish! double gold this weekend! thank u @ ronaniliano for everything <3

comments have been disabled for this post!

liked by landonorris, yourusername, logansargeant, and more...

oscarpiastri: she only cheats at chess (by kissing me and switching our pieces)

tagged: yourusername

comments have been limited!

landonorris: okay save some dignity here man

⤷ oscarpiastri: sorry i have the urge to flex my very awesome world champion ballroom dancer girlfriend who wins almost every event and people should respect her more and not be weird

⤷ landonorris: ur a simp

⤷ oscarpiastri: date someone and then talk to me ab being a simp

logansargeant: you can let go of her i promise she isn't going anywhere

ronanilliano: ugh u two are just perfect its unfair

carlossainz: you certainly have a way of shutting down rumors

hattiepiastri: if you guys ever break up true love is NOT real

yourusername: you're a very easy man to distract :)!

⤷ oscarpiastri: you're doing so right now

⤷ yourusername: yeah get off ur phone loser and pay attention to me :) <3

[hannieehaee]

BITE (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: keeping appearances as an idol was already hard enough, but it becomes even worse upon finding a forlorn jeonghan with need of assistance with the company's faulty security system, instantly becoming endeared with the idol who refused to take no for an answer — not that you'd ever want him to.

content: idol!jeonghan x hybeidol!reader, f2l, meet-cute, very unrealistic schedules for idols lol, jeonghan is a menace, a lot of will they wont they, reader plays hard to get, small age gap implied, afab reader, one mention of the word oppa as a honorific (sorry</3), reader is implied to be international (no specific race, just not born in korea), smut, dry humping, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.9k (teaser); 11.7k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: september 6th

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

a/n: wrote this super quickly so it might be a little messy but i really love idol aus so yeah hope u enjoy<3

masterlist

support me through a one time tip<3

"Hey, is that Yoon Jeonghan from Seventeen?", asked Minji as she patted your shoulder, finger pointing towards your right.

"Who?", you wondered, attempting to make sense of the distressed man standing in front of the main artist elevators in the building, "Oh, yeah, I think that's him," you said once you spotted his face, deeming it impossible to not recognize a face such as his.

"Why is he just standing there?", she wondered, holding onto your arm in the affectionate manner she usually did, "Do you think it's that elevator thing again?" she faced you to ask.

"What elevator thing?"

"Apparently he went on a variety show and complained about the company's security system. It was a whole controversy, but I guess the facial recognition doesn't work for him for some reason," she informed you before chuckling at the sight of Jeonghan sighing in defeat at yet another failed attempt at utilizing the aforementioned system, "I thought it was a bit, but I guess he was for real."

"Huh," you hummed, having been unaware of the issue. The system worked just fine for you and all your members, so you never had any motive to question it. Your senior, however, had clear issues with the system. Within the two minutes you had noticed his presence, he had already attempted the facial recognition three times, getting rejected every single one of them.

"You should help him," your groupmate suggested, "I would, but my manager will be here soon for my shoot. You only have rehearsals today, right? You're heading that way anyway."

"What? No!" you declined, "I always get anxious around our seniors. I've never even met him," you added, far too shy to even face the pretty boy during his predicament.

Disconnecting from you, she grabbed onto your shoulders, scolding you, "Dude, just go help him! This is how you make connections. You give him a hand and then he gives you one back," she said, physically turning you around so you could face his direction, hands still on your shoulders, "Go! My ride's probably already here anyways. Good luck," she encouraged as she pushed you forward, making you absentmindedly begin walking towards the boy.

Taking a breath, you began to walk towards the boy who seemed to grow more and more frustrated at the faulty security system. The closer you got, the more you could hear his whines in complaint. It appeared that he had taken up a phone call during the time you'd been talking to your friend, frustratedly arguing with whoever was on the other line.

"Seokminnie, c'mon! Just come down! I'll buy you soju after practice," he whined, groaning at whatever response his groupmate had given him in return, "My manager already left ... Yeah .... No! Stop! Just come down! I'm your senior and- Wait! Don't hang up!", he groaned at last upon hearing the classic sound of a disconnected line invade his ears.

It was only then that he seemed to notice your presence, widening his eyes momentarily before offering you a brief bow to acknowledge your presence. Moving aside, he gave you enough space to stand in front of the elevator, quietly awaiting for you to utilize the security system, likely assuming you had not heard his prior predicament. He gestured for you to move forward, acting as if he were being a gentleman in allowing you to go first.

You approached the small facial recognition screen, about to scan your face before turning to him, finding the boy staring at you expectantly, "You need me in order to use the elevator, don't you?", you asked him, amused.

"Huh?", he gaped at you, tsk'ing afterward and making an odd 'Eyyy' sound, "I'm just being a gentleman. Go ahead," he gave you a tight yet amused smile.

You chuckled in return, "Liar," you were surprised at how easy it was to be informal with him, but he was immediately likable, "Ask me to help you and maybe I might," you added, giving him a satisfied smile.

"You know, I'm pretty sure I'm your senior — Whatever happened to respect?", he joked, tsk'ing at you once more. He proceeded to walk towards you, pushing his face onto the scanner and ignoring your presence altogether, "I'll do it, see," he practically challenged, attempting the scanner once more.

Unsurprisingly, he was met with a red X and a beeping sound that indicated yet another failure to be recognized by the system. This caused him to stand there in silence for a few seconds before whining 'Yah!' and cursing out the security system.

Clearing his throat, he straightened up again, facing you once more, "Sorry about that. Your turn," he gestured to you to move forward again, stepping out of your way.

Both amused and surprised, you decided to finally utilize the scanner on yourself, smiling at him with a satisfied look when it immediately allowed you in. Turning to him, you nodded at him to get in before you, only for him to gesture for you to go first. Something about 'ladies first.'

"You owe me one," you said once you were both in the elevator again, standing side by side as you faced the closing door.

"Nuh-uh. This was just a coincidence. You needed to head upstairs anyways," he rebutted petulantly.

"Yeah? So you don't need me to help you get to your floor, then, right?", you questioned mockingly, knowing he would also have to work the scanner in order to get the door to open to Seventeen's designated floor. There were far too many steps to get to the artists' floors, but it made sense to you by now.

Upon the realization, he groaned, letting himself throw his head back against the wall behind him as he earned a giggle from you. He frowned in your direction at your laugh, though he joined you with a chuckle just mere seconds later.

"Okay, fine. I owe you," he gave up, still leaning against the wall behind but turning his head to look at you, "What can Yoon Jeonghan do for you?"

You pretended to mull over it for a few seconds, finger on your chin as you thought it over, "I have no idea. I'll let you know," you finally responded, "Okay, so, what floor?", you asked as your finger moved to the buttons on the elevator door.

"13th," he responded, now casually leaning back against the wall.

"Oh? The second highest floor. You're an important man, aren't you?", you teased, pressing his button before moving onto your group's number 9.

"Nine?," he gaped, "Seems I'm higher on the company hierarchy than you, yet you show me no respect," he joked back.

"Shut up. I'm going out of my way for you. Senior or not, you owe me. Those are the rules of all civilized society," you argued back.

"Okay, how about," he began, pressing his hands together as if making a proposition, "I see you downstairs every morning bright and early with a fresh cup of coffee in exchange for your face — y'know, for the scanner. How's that sound?", he proposed, a pleased smile on his face at your agape mouth.

"Every morning? Do you not have any friends?", you asked as the elevator continued to move up.

"Do you see anyone here? They all get here before me. You seem pretty friendless. C'mon. Free coffee, good company. I'll even play one of your group's songs in my next Welive. See? Can't get any better than that," he continued to sell his idea as the elevator came to a stop, now at his floor but demanding yet another facial scan to even exit the elevator.

"God, the security's too much," he groaned upon noticing the prompt on the small screen inside the elevator, "C'mon!", he turned to you, "Try to tell me that's not unnecessary."

You gave up, nodding as you chuckled, though not making a move to scan your face.

"Say yes. Please," he dragged the e for an annoyingly long amount of time, grinning when you rolled your eyes but laughed, "I'll keep going. Just agree. What better way to spend your time than with Yoon Jeonghan?"

"What makes you think I even knew that name before today?", you challenged.

"You do. Don't lie to me, it won't work," he smirked back before going back to being annoying again, "Come on-"

"Fine! I'll meet you downstairs every morning expecting a fresh matcha in hand — I don't drink coffee. But you still owe me," you agreed, extending your hand to him to solidify the agreement.

"No coffee? Ew. But okay, deal," he returned your handshake, holding onto your hand for an annoying amount of time, pretending as if he were unaware of when to let go and waiting for you to pull his hand off yours with another eye roll. He chuckled any time he managed to get a reaction out of you, leading you to realize he must be an absolute menace to every person he comes across. Sadly, he was charmingly entertaining, leaving you with no complaints.

Finally, you scanned your face on the screen, letting him walk in front of you to head out. Before the elevator doors could close and separate again, he held his arm out to stop them, nodding towards you.

"What's your name? I like you," he said plainly, head tilted in curiosity.

"Y/N," you said, "Please don't introduce yourself again-"

"Yoon Jeonghan," he interrupted anyways, "Remember that. We'll be having fun in the near future," were his last words before removing his hand and allowing the elevator doors to separate you, likely heading over to his groupmates upon leaving your line of sight.

Silver doors closed in front of you, now leaving you to your own company. Dumbfounded yet amused by the interaction, you stood there as you waited for the elevator to arrive to your floor, robotically scanning your face on the door once you made it there and exiting the square-shaped room upon arrival. There, you stood with the remnant of a shocked smile on your face, surprised at how easy it had been to put any concept of age or seniority aside when interacting with Yoon Jeonghan. While you always had the tendency of being overly formal with your seniors, you had spoken to Jeonghan like you would any guy your age, disregarding formalities as soon as he'd spoken to you.

You didn't truly need any convincing to agree to see him again. On the contrary, had he not suggested as such, you would've remained with an itch to find a reason for a re-encounter. Like any other junior idol at a company with big names such as BTS and Seventeen, developing a slight crush on your seniors was the normalcy — your groupmates Minji and Lila had crushes on BTS' V and Seventeen's Vernon, respectively — and it appeared that you were now joining them in the list of girls with unrequited crushes.

Jeonghan was, what, maybe five or so years older than you? The age difference alone was enough for you to chalk this up to a mindless crush. That, and the kindergarten teacher voice he had put on while speaking to you — clearly he made a very obvious distinction about your age difference right off the bat.

As of now, all you could do was hope to see him again (which, thankfully, you would) and retain the fun back and forth he'd welcomed you in on. Friendzone was one thing, but junior-zone? At least you now had a story to let your members in on next dance practice.

...

you can check it out today on my patreon by subscribing!

reply if you'd like to be tagged upon its release on tumblr!

[livbedum]

one conversation

maybank!reader x rafe cameron

summary rafe comes to pougelandia looking for sarah and finds you

warnings profanity , season four spoilers , use of marijuana , illusions to alcoholism , rafe being good at conflict resolution? , our girl is not standing on business at all

a/n initially , this had smut at the end , but i’m just finna two part ts for y’all<3

18+ minors dni

you were left alone to man the shop while the rest of your friends went to charleston. kie stayed behind as well , but she was driving all over the island trying to find jj. so here you were , doom scrolling behind the counter. you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking the worst when it came to what jj was up to or how the trip to charleston was going , but you could distract yourself and get high.

half of your blunt was gone when you thought you heard footsteps. you sat up straight , looking around the pillar you were leaned up against to see if anyone was there. pulling your headphones off , you took a deep breath. “no one’s here. no one’s trying to kill you. ghosts aren’t real,” you assured yourself before taking another hit of your blunt.

another puff and you heard more footsteps along with one of those eerie creeks from the wood. the scuba killer dude is so after me now. you hold your breath , not wanting him to hear you , but now your heartbeat was pounding more.

your hand fiddled around under the counter , feeling around for the knife you knew was there. it wasn’t the only one in the shop. the cool edge of the blade catches your finger and you grab it quietly , preparing yourself to fight a grown man who was dead set on killing you. the footsteps are getting closer , pausing every now and then like the man was looking around for you too.

“sarah?”

the all too familiar voice got your stomach to drop , your hand loosening around the knife entirely before you come out from around the cashier counter. “rafe?” you breathed out. the sweat that formed on the back of your neck had cooled , sending a chill down your spine.

your ex boyfriend turned at the sound of your voice , eyes softening at the sight of you clearly disheveled. “y/n , are you okay?” he instinctively asked , stepping toward you.

“i’m fine,” you answered shortly , backing up, “what’re you doing here?”

rafe chuckled , looking around the store. “what? ya can’t picture me just stopping by at my local bait shop?” he joked , fingers fumbling with one of the keychains that dangled on its hook.

“i don’t picture you at all anymore , rafe,” you simply replied , crossing your arms.

“agh! right— well , i came here looking for… my sister. i’m looking for sarah,” rafe explained , taking steps in a small circle just dicking around, “and you.” he stopped and a smile almost pulled at his lips. god , you missed his smile.

“well , sare isn’t here , so you’ll have to come back another time,” you shrugged , moving your way back behind the counter, “or not! sure you’re busy with sofia anyways. you should probably head out.”

rafe audibly groaned , bending back in frustration. “god damn it , y/n! could you— could you stop being difficult for one fucking second?” he cursed , rolling his eyes, “i’m— i’m tryna talk to you , baby.” your heart pinged at the nickname and the way rafe’s voice cracked just a little. the last time he called you that wasn’t even a part of your memory anymore. he leaned on the counter , resting his arms on the countertop and flicking at the pens in a metal tin.

and then you could smell it on his breath. to be fair , it was obvious the moment he started talking with his slurred words. “you’re drunk , rafe.”

“and? you’re high ; i can smell it,” he countered , finger coming up and booping you on the nose with a small laugh, “so what?”

you didn’t want to have to tell him to leave in the state he was in , but he could not be here when kie or jj got back. “i think you need to leave , dude,” you sighed , rubbing your forehead with your palm, “you can’t be here.”

“you used to beg me to come around the cut!” rafe whined , sniffling shortly, “now you don’t want me to?”

your eyes locked , and it was like time stood still. you thought you couldn’t read him anymore , but up close again , you know you could. he missed you. “i do,” you whispered , eyes still not leaving his, “but that doesn’t change anything.”

“one conversation,” he pleaded , grabbing your hand when you went to pull back again, “please.”

you always had trouble saying no to him. “fine,” you agreed , picking his keys up from the counter, “one conversation while i drive you home.” moving around the counter , you gently guided rafe back outside and to where his truck was parked. you helped him get in the passenger seat before getting behind the wheel and starting the truck. you heard the chime of your phone connecting to the bluetooth , and you cracked a smile. “sofia ever drive the truck?” you questioned , backing up and driving down the road.

“hell no,” rafe scoffed , reaching in the back seat for something. you eyed him , trying to figure out what he was doing. “i did something,” he announced , pulling a beer out and cracking it open.

your lips curled and you grabbed the bottle from him. “what did you do?” you asked , rolling the window down and chucking the beer out, “besides form a bad drinking habit?”

“i don’t have a bad drinking habit , y/n,” rafe groaned , letting his head hit the headrest behind him, “i made a deal. a business deal , y’know?” you looked at him , wanting him to continue. “so , you remember mrs. robinson? well , she’s not mrs. robinson anymore — whatever. so she proposed this business opportunity to me , and i’m doing it.”

“okay?”

“for us.” his voice was quieter than before , eyes flickering up to your face , gauging what you were thinking. if he even could anymore. but you didn’t say anything , so rafe continued, “i’ve been having these , i don’t know what to call ‘em , but i’ve been thinking a lot. about everything. me and sarah. me and you. and i wanna have my family back,” he admitted, “i want you back.”

you were quiet for a moment , your music the only noise in the truck. “rafe…” you sighed. your heart wanted nothing more than to forgive him for everything and take him back like you always did. but things were so different now. “you have a girlfriend. i have my life here , and i— nothing has changed.”

“what do you mean ‘nothing has changed’ , y/n? come on! i have!” rafe argued back.

“no , you haven’t!” you laughed , volume matching his, “you haven’t changed at all. the last time we all saw you was when you were aiming a fucking gun at us after you kidnapped me and sarah! and then the other day at the enduro , and let’s not forget the swell day’s activities , rafe. you haven’t changed.”

you watched rafe sit up straight before adjusting to face you entirely. “i want you! i’m sorry for the shit that happened. that — that wasn’t me , and i think you know that. i’d never do anything to hurt you , baby.”

“stop calling me that , rafe,” you begged , looking at him for just a moment with tears in your eyes, “i can’t come back to you this time.”

“you don’t understand! with this deal with hollis? i’ll have enough money for us to go away and start our own life. just like we always wanted,” he explained , hand reaching your thigh, “it’s what you wanted. i’m doing it. for you.”

you could see rafe’s place come into view and let out a deep breath. “i didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumbled , pulling truck into park, “i’ve asked you to get your shit together. to not be a fucking mess all of the time. i’ve asked you to just be nice to me a thousand times! you’re too late.”

“no , but i’m not,” rafe rushed out , grabbing your hands in his, “this deal is perfect timing. you’re home ; i’m apologizing. this is good,” he countered , hopeful smile on his lips, “c’mon.”

it was taking everything in you to not just start bawling. about how much you missed him when you shouldn’t , about how fucked up everything is , about every single thing that has happened in the last two years.

“rafe , i love you,” you said , taking his face in your hands and looking him in the eyes, “i love you so much that i could forgive you for everything—“

“so forgive me,” he interrupted softly , slipping your hands into his again , missing the way they fit together.

“i can’t,” you shook your head, “i was legally a missing person for six weeks because you kidnapped me , and i had to jump off a fucking boat into the ocean to get away. you — you drugged me and took me , rafe. that isn’t something i can just get passed. and while i was gone fighting for my life , you started dating my coworker! do you think those things are easy to forgive you for? i have been trying to do that since i’ve been back. i have come up with every logical excuse that would help me forgive you , so i can come home. but you haven’t been doing the same , and you come to me now like you couldn’t have come earlier , rafe!” your rant was going on longer than you expected, “i love you , but right now you’re not the same person. look at yourself for a moment and really think if all of this shit you get yourself into is worth losing me ; because i’m getting to the point where i believe you think it is.”

rafe sat quiet for a moment , truly taking in every single word you spoke. you could see the gears grinding and sat patiently with his hands in yours while he thought. “i love you,” he started, “i have done a million things wrong , and i know that. i’m trying to sort those things out now. that’s why i came today! to talk to you and sarah,” he explained opening his truck door, “just come inside. we can talk everything out. i promise. just give me a chance.”

“okay,” you whispered , closing your eyes for a second before getting out of the truck with him. you heard the breath of relief come from rafe. “girlfriend not here?” you quipped.

“shut up,” rafe laughed , opening the front door for you, “welcome back.”

“been awhile,” you nodded , stepping into the house with your arms crossed over your chest. your bikini top became more notable when you stepped into the air conditioning. “uh , where do you—“

“we could go to my room,” rafe suggested , raising his eyebrows at you with a smirk before you reached over and smacked him. you tried to hide your own smile. it had been so long since you and him had talked like this— joked around. “kidding!”

“living room,” you decided , heading that way on your own. you climbed over the couch and plopped down , getting comfortable as if you had been here the day before , like nothing had changed. “get to talkin’ , big guy,” you huffed , gesturing for him to sit down as well.

rafe rolled his eyes before he came into your line of sight at the directions and that stupid nickname. he hated when you called him anything other than baby or my love or if you were mad rafe. “okay , bud. the fuck?” he mumbled quietly back as he took a seat.

you were quick to defend yourself from his tone. “why are you getting snippy with me?” you asked , eyebrows furrowing as a pout overtook your lips.

“never mind,” rafe sighed lightly, “okay— first thing’s first : sofia is not my girlfriend. she was never my girlfriend,” he started off , looking at you were more sober eyes now that the conversation you’d both been wanting to have was happening. “we met at a party , and we hooked up. it , ugh , we kept hooking up , and it’s just that. i don’t want to be with her ; i don’t have feelings for her. it’s not like that.”

“you wanna start off with this topic?” you questioned , knowing it was the most sore spot for you in the moment. yes , everything he did was monumentally worse than his thing with sofia , but this was picking at you constantly.

“yes , i want to start with this because it affects us the most. if you think i’m with sofia or whatever you won’t want to come back to me,” rafe explained like it was obvious, “and the most important thing to me right now is you. it always has been.”

you bit your lip , thinking about how you want to word what you’re going to say. “i… do not care what you think you and sofia’s label is,” you admitted with a shrug, “i think you found somebody else that doesn’t know you to fill a void that i left whenever i was stranded on an island. i think you found someone that you knew would bother me if i ever came back. and i think that it’s disgusting that you’re sleeping with the only person i got along with at the club. you know that i’ve seen her posting you all of the time.”

“i thought you were dead!” rafe argued, “i was drowning myself in liquor one night when she was working and we —“

“i don’t care to hear how you started fucking my friend , rafe,” you interrupted , holding your hand up, “why didn’t you wait for me? we have been through so much shit together. things we’ve done to each other or whatever the fuck argument we get into. shit with my brother. i just don’t know why you didn’t wait this time around.”

“i thought you were dead , y/n,” he repeated , quieter this time as though the words alone were making him think that way again, “and you came back and everything was already so different.”

“because you were fucking my friend,” you said again , trying to get your point across.

his hands came up and rubbed at his face , clearing accepting the fact that this was going to be an argument conversation not a talk this out conversation. “i fucked your friend , yeah. i was horny , and you had screamed at me that you hated me and jumped off of a ship in the middle of the ocean to get away from me. and then the next time i saw you , you let kiara fucking carrera shove me off my boat as we were getting away from singh. excuse me for wanting to let off some steam,” he shouted , standing up and pacing a few feet, “oh and then we’re all back home and you scream at me in front of everyone at the enduro and then again at the beach , so… yeah.”

“letting off so much ‘steam’ that your friends are letting a pogue hang out with you all of the time? i get sofia is nice , but rafe , you’re surrounded by jackasses twenty-four seven. they’ve gotta be under the impression you’re dating if they’re letting her come around,” you argued also standing up so he wasn’t towering over you as much, “that’s the problem!”

“would you rather me go around and fuck every girl on the island?” he scoffed , confused with the situation now.

“yeah! that would be more in rafe cameron fashion,” you answered, “you told me i was the only girl you’d ever let step foot in this house with you again!”

“and you promised me no matter what! we’ve made promises and we’ve broken them. that’s nothing new to us,” rafe countered quickly before taking a deep breath and holding your hands. he moved you both to sit down again. “i don’t want to fight , y/n,” he admitted, “i want us to talk.”

you looked into his eyes , really looked , and all you could see was rafe. you could see the sweet boy that used to take you to all the way to charleston for farmer’s markets and the boy that always made you laugh. you didn’t want to argue either ; it wasn’t fun for you. you were just so mad.

“i don’t know how to talk with you when i’m this angry , rafe!” you huffed , dropping your face into your hands, “i am so fucking angry all of the time.”

“how about we talk about what you want to then?” he suggested , hand reaching your thigh and rubbing it soothingly, “i want to talk , so if it’s hard for you , we’ll do what you want. all i want is you back. i’m willing to make this work.”

you eventually looked up again , a soft smile at the feeling of his warm hand forming. “i don’t want to talk , ray,” you confessed , covering his hand with yours, “i just wish things were the same as they were before all of this happened.”

“it can be,” he responded , a smile lighting his face, “we can be.” rafe scooted closer to you on the couch , gently pulling you into him. “i’m on your side. whatever you want to do.”

and you didn’t even realize that you had moved your head to kiss him. you were already kissing rafe deeply when you came to the realization that this was the dumbest thing you could’ve been doing at the moment , but he was there and you loved him as much as you shouldn’t. “i don’t want to talk,” you echoed , shifting to straddle rafe’s lap. and he let you.

“i don’t deserve you,” he mumbled in between kisses , letting his hands feel you for the first time in so long.

you pulled back for a moment , taking his hand in your face again to make him look at you. “don’t say that ; it hurts my feelings,” you smiled , pressing a kiss into his cheek, “i love you. let’s drop everything that’s happened. if you say you’ve changed , i’ll believe you.”

taglist @maybankslover @annatartastic @maroonz @ravenmedows @yootvi @icaqttt @inlovewithmorales

[avis-writeshq]

Hi! Can I request track one? :)

Spencer Reid being so shy to ask Fem! Reader out so Morgan flirts with them to push him to do it?:(

pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: friends to lovers warnings: not proof read :( a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3 wc: 700

Spencer isn’t entirely sure why he’s so upset. He’s got his lips drawn to a pout and his eyes are set on the computer in front of him. He chalks it up to the fact that his contact lenses have been drying out. That must be it.

“Stare any harder and you’ll break the screen.”

You’re giggling at his unhappiness, but he doesn’t feel an ounce of annoyance. In moments you’re placing a steaming cup of tea onto his desk with a tiny pitcher of milk, before swiping a few of his files off his pile. 

“You don’t–”

“Hush, Spencer. You probably have filled more overtime hours in the past week than I have in the last four years. Let me take these off of you, okay?” You smile at him before leaning down to murmur into his ear, “They’re probably Morgan’s anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

Spencer flushes, his cheeks warming to a pretty pink at your closeness and he can smell your vanilla perfume. Every thought in his brain vanishes and he’s pretty sure that he won’t be able to think for the next hour or so. His mouth opens and closes like a broken hinge and you walk away to sit at your own desk. 

“When’s the wedding?” Derek asks through a snicker, reaching a hand out and ruffling Spencer’s already unkempt hair. 

“Wh– stop,” Spencer manages weakly, pushing his bangs out of the way and huffing. “Keep your voice down.”

“Didn’t you say that you wanted to ask her to see that Russian film festival or something?” Derek asks, unrelenting. He gestures to the two tickets poking out of one of Spencer’s book. “You already bought them?”

“I won them,” he corrects, scowling. “Stop laughing!”

“Dude, you have to ask her out,” Derek tries again. “Kid, I’m serious. A girl like that isn’t going to wait around forever.”

Spencer’s annoyance is quick to dissipate into flusteredness, and he avoids his friend’s gaze. “She shouldn’t have to.”

“Come on, don’t beat yourself up. Just go talk to her.”

His efforts are in vain as Spencer huffs again and turns back to his paperwork. Morgan shrugs, flexing his arms. It’s far too early to be dealing with Spencer’s shyness and pining. Morgan watches as he sneaks yet another look in your direction, and it takes a lot in him to not throw the two of you together. Emily keeps reminding him to be patient. Penelope keeps informing him that ‘they’ll get together in their own time’. Hotch would spare him a stern look. 

They’re not in the room, though.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

Morgan’s call out is enough for you to raise your head and for Spencer’s face to morph into look of genuine betrayal. He’s frantically moving his hand across his neck as a very obvious sign to cut it out. Morgan pays him no mind.

“What’s up?” You ask brightly, finishing your sentence before turning to look at him. “Did you need something?”

“You’re looking particularly gorgeous today, you know that?” Derek wears a lazy smirk as he looks at you up and down, and you only manage to laugh.

“Ha ha.” You roll your eyes, glancing briefly at Spencer who could have been mistaken for a cherry. “What are you playing at, Morgan?”

The man claps his hands together, rubbing his palms. “Are you free tomorrow night? I’ve got a bottle of wine that has our names on it.”

Spencer looks aghast. He recalls the information on the tickets he had won, and– tomorrow night. That’s when the film festival is happening. 

“She doesn’t drink,” Spencer butts in before you can respond, snatching the tickets from the inside of his book and getting up from his seat to make his way over to you. “I was um– I’ve got these tickets for a film festival tomorrow. It’s in Russian, but I can whisper the translations to you so you understand. You don’t– you don’t have to go. I know it might not be your thing–”

“I’d love to go, Spence.” You smile at him, plucking one of the tickets from his hands. “A whole evening with you? Who wouldn’t enjoy that? Sorry, Derek.”

Derek raises his hands in surrender, and when you aren’t looking, shoots Spencer a thumbs up. Penelope would be proud. 

reblogs are always appreciated !

events page

[lowkeyremi]

WHAT ARE THEIR BEIGE FLAGS? (HCS)

pairing: eren, armin, jean, connie, reiner, bertholdt, levi, erwin, hange, mikasa, sasha, pieck, and annie x fem!reader (separate) summary: things they do that are unusual within your relationship ! content: fluff, little bit of swearing, established relationships (marriage implied for a few), nothing too crazy today just wholesome :3 not proofread! this is all just a silly little thing I thought up, it's not meant to be taken seriously wc: 1.3k

🡆 𝐄. 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

Eren's beige flag is that when he controls the music in the car he skips at least twenty songs on his playlist before he settles on a song, then one minute into the song he'll skip again.

"Do you want me to play something, 'ren?" You're trying not to laugh at him. He's got a cute little pout on his face.

"Yes please.. I don't wanna crash cuz I can't pick a song."

🡆 𝐀. 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐓

His beige flag is that whenever he sees a cute stuffed animal he just HAS to buy it. The thing is- he doesn't have enough space for another one. Whenever someone comes over and opens the wrong door a mountain of stuffed animals fall out of the closet.

"Um. [name], are these yours?" Mikasa asks while glancing at the stuffed animals.

"No, those are Armin's." You don't even look up from your phone, which lets Mikasa know this has been going on for some time.

🡆 𝐉. 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍

Jean's beige flag is that he believes microwave food is "making dinner." He'll be like,

"babe I cooked us dinner!! :D"

and on your way to the table you see two microwave spaghetti boxes in the garbage. You don't have the heart to tell him that's not cooking.

"Wow baby, that looks delicious!"

🡆 𝐂. 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

His beige flag is that he removes the little "crust" part of a pop tart and only eats the part with the icing on it. It's just dry and bland so why eat it? (I do this 😝)

"Hey do any of you want the rest of my pop tart?" You anticipate how weirded out his friends will be when they see what part of the pop tart he's talking about.

"Yeah, let me get the rest." Jean says not paying too much attention. Connie hands him a napkin with the crumbling end pieces.

"Dude what the hell... I thought you meant like a half or something!"

🡆 𝐑. 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐍

Reiner is too cute. His beige flag is that whenever someone good looking appears on tv or social media he covers his eyes. He doesn't want you to think those women will change his opinion of you and how you look.

"Reiner, baby, you're allowed to look at attractive people and think they look hot. I think people are hot all the time."

"I know but- wait what?"

"You're my number one man obviously but I can't deny when someone is good looking. You don't have to either, because I trust you." He huffs quietly, all this time he had been covering his eyes while you admire other men?

"Wait so you call them hot, but you wouldn't leave me for them, right?" Now's he starting to feel a little insecure.

"Baby, I wouldn't leave you if someone paid me a million dollars."

🡆 𝐁. 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑

His beige flag is that he physically makes a "gulp" sound whenever he's scared or nervous.

"You're gonna do great on that speech today, babe. I believe in you!" Usually your attempts to comfort Bertholdt work but you can tell it's getting to him when he goes,

"Gulp."

"You did it again."

"It's a force of habit, my love." He says scrubbing his face whilst you giggle at him.

🡆 𝐋. 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

His beige flag is that he's never embarrassed when someone walks in on him or he walks in on someone else. It's his body so why should he care? He thinks people make a big deal out of that for no reason.

When you're in the shower he'll open the door to come use the bathroom or do something else.

"Levi! You scared me." He watches you in the mirror out of the corner of his eye. He has to stop himself from rolling them when you try to cover up your body with your arms.

"Why are you so on edge? I've seen you naked plenty of times, darling."

🡆 𝐄. 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

His beige flag is he says old outdated phrases on purpose. You're hanging out with him in the living room and he's on the phone with Levi.

You don't care too much about what your husband is saying until he says, "Yeah don't worry about it, Levi. I'll be down there in a jiffy."

"Really, Honey? Jiffy? 😭"

🡆 𝐙. 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄

Their beige flag is that they can't remember your family members' names to save their life. They've just got a lot going on so when you go to your family gatherings they're like,

"Oh- you're- uh... I know it, give me a second!" Hange closes their eyes to think for a second.

"You're Caroline!" Hange is so confident they're right.

Your little cousin looks at you, then back at your partner, "My name is Lexi..."

"I was close!" Hange says with a bold smile.

🡆 𝐌. 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

Ever since her old scarf started to tatter her beige flag has been knitting little abstract figures. She'll knit these goofy little monster guys and sew buttons on them for eyes. They're so cute so you don't mind. You have like five that she's made for you.

"Hey pretty girl, I got distracted and made another." Mikasa says with a little groan.

"It's okay, Mika. They're really cute!" She lets out a sigh of relief.

🡆 𝐒. 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐒

Her beige flag is that she unironically eats with a bib. She argues it's one of those "adult bibs" thinking that it makes it sound better. She just doesn't want to get her clothes dirty and when Sasha eats she eats, which explains how she would even get that messy.

"Hey babe can you get my bib before you sit down."

...

She never fails to catch you off guard. When you hand it to her she gives you a kiss on the check, "You're the best girlfriend I could have ever asked for. Thank you for dinner."

"Of course, sweet girl."

🡆 𝐏. 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

I love my girl Pieck but I know for a fact her beige flag is that she puts on chapstick just to lick it off.

"Damn my lips are really dry, you got any chapstick on you, baby?" The two of you are going out for dinner so of course she wants to look her best.

"Are you gonna eat it, like always?"

She rolls her eyes, "I do not eat it."

Now it's your turn to roll your eyes, but since you love your girlfriend you give her your strawberry chapstick which she uses a generous amount of.

Not even two minutes later you spot her licking her lips.

"YOU DO EAT IT, LIAR!!!!"

🡆 𝐀. 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓

Annie's beige flag is that she'll repurpose absolutely anything. Nothing you want to throw away actually makes it to the trash can when she's around.

While you were folding up your clothes you found one of your old socks with a hole in it, so you believe it's that sock's time to go.

When you get up to throw it away you hear your girlfriend call out, "Don't throw that away. I can make it into a toy for Churro."

Churro is your crazy orange cat the two of you took in.

"Annie, Churro has like a million toys. I think he'll be okay without my sock."

"Come on, don't throw it away. I saw this video, and now I wanna try to make the cool cat toy!" You can't deny Annie when she's this cute so you give in. (she always says she's not cute but you beg to differ)

"Fine, here." You throw the sock to her and she makes a perfect catch.

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[mahyuume]

MY PRINCE CHARMING!

— synopsis. like all fairytales, the princess always has her prince charming. but they never really explained how that prince courted her.

pairing. 1A boys (katsuki bakugou & shoto todoroki) x princess!reader | genre. romcom, fluff | mlist

reminders! your quirk is "summon", so basically you can summon anything and anyone to your liking along with it under your control! :3 you an activate it either by saying it out loud or manifesting it in your head. (ex. manifesting a whole army and ordering them to take down the enemy is possible.)

KATSUKI BAKUGOU, who's very well known for being brash, tries asks you out with(out) aggression.

“hey princess, come over here for a sec,” bakugou calls out to you from across the classroom, reclining in his desk with his feet up.

right now, you can't tell if the nickname "princess" is just his way of being rude or if it's meant affectionately in a mean way with hidden sincerity. either way, you haven't quite gotten used to it yet. leaving uraraka and tsuyu behind, you make your way towards his desk; which feels like an eternity in his opinion.

“what's your problem, bakugou?” you retort, unintentionally sounding harsh. “what's with your attitude princess?!” he growls, “just cause you’re coming from some stupid royal family doesn't mean you can talk down to the world’s soon greatest hero.” bakugou says in your face with his stupid grin. but right now, not only is he standing a little too close for your liking, but small explosions are going off in his right palm. is he trying to have a conversation by threatening you??

kirishima interjects, sweat dropping as he attempts to defuse the tension between his best friend and the class's princess. “I'm sure she didn't mean for it to come off that way!” he looks at you, hoping for agreement. “yeah, man! you just need to chill.…” denki adds on, but his voice trails off quietly. “also, you should just spit out what you wanted to say.” He says the last part a little louder before whistling and avoiding eye contact with the hot-headed guy who swears at him.

“spit what out? a threat or—“ “yeah! a threat that I'll crush you in training today, pretty girl.”

...

"bakubro,—" before bakugou can realize his mistake, you (along with kirishima and denki) beat him to it. “did you just call me pretty?”

finally, it dawns on him. and he feels like dying when realization hits. “what? no, I didn't. I called you ugly.” “nuh-uh. you called me pretty.” “no, I didn't.” he huffs with a tongue click following, “did all the tiaras and stuff you wear brainwash you and get to your stupid head?” you giggle slightly at his reaction as he looks away, hands in his pockets, ready to walk away from the whole situation. well, he’s trying to salvage his pride. you’ll give him that.

“stop fuckin' laughing brat!” he yells, clearly embarrassment took over. “dude just tell her already!” denki groans, hands in his face as he's already frustrated with how his friend's so freakishly good at stalling a confession. “bakugou, dude... I'm just gonna hang with mina.” kirishima comments, trying to give the two of you some space alone. “yeah, same here," denki agrees while giving a sly teasing smirk to his exploding friend as they both stand up and make their way towards their pink-haired best friend.

and now, it's just the two of you. you in front of his desk, and him with his back turned to you, head down.

“uh, I don't think there's anything interesting on the floor for you to be looking that long.” you tease him, “shut up...” nice. you got him to talk. “is that all? so much for a threat.”

"go out with me."

so straightforward. “...speak up bakugou. I can't hear you!” I said... gooutwithme.” “still can't hear you~!” “I SAID GO OUT WITH ME DAMMIT!” he practically screams as small explosions go off. nervous much?

also as he screamed at you, the multiple heads of your classmates turned towards you and the boy who's most likely going to blow your head off after kissing you trying to comprehend what they just heard.

“show some respect towards your crush!” you deadpan, “shut it!”he scoffs as he finally faces you. “…is it yes or no?” the now less embarrassed or angry (you really couldn’t tell) asks quietly, surprisingly audible over all the chatter about the two of you.

“it would've been nicer if you did this properly,” you say. "wh—?!” “but sure, I accept your challenge of beating you to a pulp in training.” “…” bakugou stands there, looking at you with a mixture of confusion and a ‘what the fuck did you just say’ with slightly pink blush visible on his pale skin.

“...It's a yes, idiot.”

suddenly, he can breathe properly and releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding. “stop playing around, brat,” he smiles at you as you laugh.

he was nervous over nothing, just like what his friends said.

SHOTO TODOROKI, one of the most strongest guys in your class... no, in UA, verbally expressed he was amazed with your quirk?! is he flirting with you..?

“yn, please excuse my sudden compliment, but I must say your quirk is amazing. especially with your control, it definitely suits a girl like you.” the half-n-half user tells you, straight in the face even. you think you probably– no most definitely look stupid in front of him with your flustered expression, speechless too... “o—oh! you think so?”

...you wish shigaraki could decay this whole school right now and turn you into dust.

todoroki keeps his gaze on you as a small but evident smile shows on his lips. “yes, I think so,” he says in a more softer tone. you think it's much better than his stoic voice you often hear. “is there anything i said wrong? or made you uncomfortable?” you also think about how cute he can be without trying, and you hate it.

quickly brushing off his earlier statement, he sighs and fixes his stiff posture as response. “that's good to know. I wouldn't like upsetting a princess after all.” todoroki smiles at you before turning his heel to leave. “I will be taking my leave now yn,” how nonchalant could he be? “take care. I'll see you at the dorms.”

after todoroki bid farewell, leaving his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway, you found yourself wishing he would stay a bit longer.

“wait!” you hastily exclaimed suddenly, reaching out towards him with an arm, but then stopping with a twitch. the volume of your voice higher than you intended, making you shock yourself. todoroki turns around, puzzled by your abrupt gesture. it was probably just a reflex, he thought, dismissing the sudden movement. because surely, you wouldn't want him to stay for anything else, right?

in a surprising turn of events, you sheepishly invited him for lunch or dinner after exams, revealing your want for him to stay.

“um, sorry. would you like to have lunch, maybe dinner? sometime after training and exams.”

having practically asked him out, you blushed as he smiled, agreeing and taking out his phone. “what’s this for?” you inquired, still a bit pink in the face. “well, I do need your number for our date, don't I?” the icy hot user replied with an 'obviously' look on his face.

if you weren't red before, you definitely were now; perhaps even resembling a sunburn. did he just activate his fire quirk or something? the air kept getting hotter the longer you both talked.

“oops! my apologies for that...” you muttered nervously, inputting your number into his phone, adjusting your own contact details as well. 'yn! (≧∀≦)'

SAVE CONTACT ? YES | NO > YES | NO

“cute emoji.” todoroki plainly says, with a hint of adornment in his tone as he looked at your newly saved contact name. he thinks he’ll start using those emojis often. “haha, I know right…”

giving back his phone, you offer walking back to the dorms with him.

“I would like that, as much I like being in your company.” okay. he's definitely hitting on you now. “todoroki... sorry for my sudden ask, but are you flirting with me?” you say a little quickly with a flushed face, looking the other way to avoid his gaze. as you do that, he stops walking.

noticing his presence gone and a few steps back, you look back and suddenly you see his expression as one you’ve never seen before.

“t—todoroki?” you call out to him with a tone tinged with tinged with a new found anxiety and concern due to his sudden silence. unsure if he’s flushed of getting caught or genuinely contemplating if he was or wasn’t. but one thing you were sure about was how crazy the two of you must look, standing in the middle of a hall way going back and forth on each other.

besides all this, you hurriedly apologize for catching him off guard, trying to ease any discomfort you might’ve caused (you hope you haven’t, or else you really wish the league of villains would take you the moment you leave the building.)

“ohmygod, please excuse me for just asking that out of the blue, you really don’t have to—“ “yes. I was.” “huh?” “I was actually flirting with you,” the dual colored hair boy who stands in front of you, smiling bashfully; his gaze struggling to maintain eye contact but always seems to meet yours.

“sorry, was I moving too fast?” todoroki asks you with the gently and sincere tone that you could listen to on repeat. wait, what the hell? he’s just trying to ease the tension between you.

“no!” realizing you responded too hastily, you try to regain a normal composure and talk to him; but your words fail to come out right “ah, sorry… but no! you weren’t, I was just… um…” lord, your words were really failing you. so you think of the only thing sensible to get you out of this situation,

“walk away from me!” you commanded him, and in doing so he does. involuntarily. you gotta thank your quirk for this, honestly.

“wh- wait, yn!” todoroki calls out to you in a shocked but confused tone, “turn me back, right now!” he says as his body still walks away from you, having no control over your quirk.

as you hear him ask to be released, you immediately regret your decision on using your quirk in him.“come back to me.”

after hearing your latest command, he feels grateful as his body obediently changes direction and approaches you, coming within 10 steps. now standing before you, he nervously sweats, unsure of what to do or say. meanwhile, you avert your gaze, looking down as he gazes at you. “i’m sorry I was too nervous!”you exclaim loudly as you attempt to leave, but he interrupts you before you can manage your grand escape.

“please don’t go,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper. you stop in your tracks from the surprised by his sudden change in demeanor and how gently he reached out to your arm. looking up at you after a moment of silence, with kind eyes laced with a loving intent, he takes a deep breath and musters up the courage to speak. “what I meant was, don’t be sorry.” he smiles, “and don’t leave.”

you swear you feel a heart attack coming.

“I’m sure you’ve already known, but I just wanted to say...i think you’re amazing. and i would really like to get to know you better.” you feel your heart skip a beat as you realize his true intentions. (as if he didn’t tell you from the beginning) a smile spreads across your face as you reply, “I would like that too.” and in that moment, the nervous tension dissipates, replaced by a sense of excitement for what the future may hold.

“so what do you say,” todoroki starts again; “do you just wanna start the date tonight?” he asks, a hopeful like look casted upon his face. who could say no to a face like that? you gleem at him as the corners of his mouth curl upwards more, feeling a sense of relief.

as he stands there, now going walk with you towards the dorms, he thanks himself for getting over with his own nervousness and complimenting you.

BONUS: “y’know, I didn’t actually know i was asking for a date.” you admit to him as you lean on the kitchen counter, watching your new boyfriend trying to chop chives. “really?” he stops cutting, now looking at you with a surprised smile. “yeah, really…” you chuckle, “I thought I was just asking for you to hang out.” your dual wielder boyfriend laughs, “well I’m glad I took it the wrong way and started flirting with you.” he sighs as he resumes to cooking. “yeah. me too.” you smile at the scene unfolding in front of you.

“stop fucking flirting. it’s making me sick.” “oh shut up bakugou.”

HI GUYS!!! finally posting this after it’s been in drafts since like may I really like how this turned out especially todoroki hehehehehehehheh can u tell I really like him. but anyways, I’m thinking if I should do a part 2 with deku and uhh idk. but anyways!!!!! hope u guys like this 𝜗𝜚.

[godslino]

PIECE BY PIECE | minho first date series. friends to lovers.

pairing: minho x fem!reader word count: 6.2k genre: college au, mutual pining, fluff, angst warnings: drinking, referenced injury (very minor) summary: minho, on a drunken whim, asks you out on a date.

chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

a/n: finally!! the minho part!! i’ve been sooo excited about this one since i first got the idea. i hope you guys enjoy! once again any and all feedback is appreciated, happy reading <3

“Dude, I think it’s clean.”

Minho looks up from where he’s scrubbing the counter, eyes narrowed. So what if it’s his third time going over every surface in the kitchen?

“Are you going to help me or are you just gonna sit there and make more crumbs?”

Jeongin’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He holds up his hands in surrender, the bag of chips in his lap crinkling. “I’m just saying. You’re acting like she’s never seen the place before.”

That’s the problem. You’ve seen his place. Minho has to stop the shudder that threatens to overtake his body at the thought.

“So you’re not helping? Great. Get out.”

“I live here!” Jeongin whines. “Why do I have to get out? You can’t banish me like this.”

“I can and I will. Now leave. I have two hours to make sure everything is ready and I am not going to vacuum for a fourth time.”

“Yes mom,” Jeongin rolls his eyes as he unfolds his legs from underneath him.

He stops just short of the kitchen counter, points an accusatory finger at Minho’s disheveled figure still hunched over an imaginary stain.

“For the record, Chan hyung would never do this to me. He loves my crumbs.”

Minho throws the scrub daddy at him.

🏠

The night it happens, all it takes is approximately three shots and a pep talk from Hyunjin for Minho to finally find the nerve to ask you out.

“You’ve got this,” the younger boy says, words slurred, his hands steady on both Minho’s shoulders. The bass thumps loud in the other room, drowned out by the walls of the kitchen until it’s nothing but garbled nonsense going in one of his ears and out the other, vibrations low in his chest.

“I’ve got this.” Minho repeats, the thrum of alcohol already spreading to his fingertips. He feels warm, light on his feet. His limbs are starting to loosen up and his insides are turning to jelly. He might even be floating.

“You look hot.”

“I look hot.”

“She’s gonna say yes.”

“She’s gonna say yes.”

“You’re gonna venmo me twenty dollars.”

“I’m gonna venmo you twenty dollars.” Minho parrots before he can even process what he’s saying. Changbin, who’d been watching the entire thing unfold from where he stands with his back pressed against the sink, snorts.

“Wait, what the f—”

“Go get her!” Hyunjin screams, pushing him through the door of the kitchen with one last pat on the back, “And send me my money!”

Minho stumbles over himself, just barely able to stop in time before he goes crashing into a group of people. The living room is crowded: there’s furniture pushed up against the walls, bodies pressed front to back in the middle of the floor, a makeshift DJ stand in the corner where Chan is controlling the music from his laptop, drink in hand. Minho catches his eye from across the room, the glow of the LEDs reflecting off the toothy grin he shoots his way, dimples on full display.

“Hey!” Minho feels someone grab his arm, and he turns to find you staring up at him. “Where’d you go? You said you were gonna get a drink.”

Minho follows your eyes down to where you’re staring at his empty hands. “I—uh, well. I ran into Hyunjin and we took a few shots.”

The pout you give him does nothing but spur on the fluttering of his chest, his brain still hyper aware of the way your hand was resting on his elbow. “Shots? I want shots!” you whine, and Minho has to avert his gaze from staring at your lips when your pout only worsens.

“How much have you had?” he tries to ask over the music. There’s a shitty pop song playing, high pitched and wonky. If he remembers in the morning, he’ll make sure he berates Chan about his DJ-ing abilities.

“What?” you scream back, tiptoeing to bring your mouth closer to his ear.

Minho is only a man. A man who's been in love with you since the moment you accidentally spilled your coffee all over Hyunjin in the quad during freshman year. He remembers that day well, remembers the way your eyes went wide and your lips parted. He also remembers the way he wished it was him with the large wet stain on his shirt, that way it was him that was offered to have his lunch bought as an apology.

He’d never admit it, but sometimes really late at night, when the moon is high in the sky and he’s feeling oddly sentimental, he counts his lucky stars that Hyunjin had been in a relationship at the time. Minho doesn’t know what he would’ve done had he been forced to watch the two of you hit it off—some form of arson, presumably. Anything to take the edge off. But because of the fact that Hyunjin was not trying to have his head cut off by said girlfriend at the time, he invited Minho along as some sort of collateral damage. That’s when the two of you became friends. Kind of perfect if you ask him.

With the jumbled mess of butterflies in his stomach that he gets whenever you’re near him, and the threat of the alcohol slowly seeping through his skin, his brain short circuits the minute your breath grazes the shell of his ear. When your hand follows not long after, fingers gripping the nape of his neck to hold him in place, he almost passes out.

“Min? What’d you say?”

Minho is rendered completely useless by you. Absolutely ruined. Your existence has thrown his entire plan to woo you off course and now his mouth is opening and closing like a badly programmed robot. Pathetic. Nuts and bolts for brains.

By the grace of God (or some other higher being that Minho’s never bothered to believe in until this very moment) he finds his voice, but not before you’re pulling back with a confused look on your face.

“I asked how much you’ve had to drink,” he says, straining against the music.

A saccharine sweet grin that has him seeing stars spreads across your face, “Not enough!”

Minho is not an enabler. Never has been, never will be. There was one time, back in that fateful freshman year that also introduced the two of you, that he let Hyunjin get blackout drunk. A terrible decision on his end, if the earful he got from Chan the next morning was anything to go by. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was finding remnants of the resulting hacking session for the following week. So yeah, never again.

But while Minho isn’t an enabler, he is smitten, and the way your hand feels wrapped around his wrist as you drag him into the kitchen has his soul threatening to leave his body. He thinks that maybe he could do anything as long as you asked. He also hopes you can’t feel the way his pulse is rabbiting beneath his skin, right under the press of your thumb.

“There’s, like, nothing here.” you say as you rummage through the cupboard near the window, nose scrunched and a frown on your face.

Minho laughs, rounds the kitchen island to crouch down and open the cabinet under the sink. “That’s because you don’t know where to look,” he smirks, pulling out a fresh bottle of tequila. “Also, Chan hyung is greedy. He knows people like you will go scavenging his supply if he isn’t careful.”

“I resent that.” you frown, taking the bottle from him. “Besides, people like me deserve to have fun too.”

“Mhm, sure.” Minho says, grabbing a solo cup. He holds his hand out for the bottle, pours just the right amount before sliding it over and following it up with a can of coke.

“A man after my heart.” you joke, holding your cup up to him in a mock toast before downing it in one go. Minho watches with so much focus, fighting against the way his head spins. He doesn’t even know if it’s the alcohol anymore, it might just be the effect you have on him. Dizzying—you flip his entire world on its axis in the best way possible.

Minho’s gonna be seeing your exposed neck in his dreams later, he’s sure of it—it’s branded into his memory.

“That…is so fucking bad.” you giggle, holding your cup out. “Another one.”

Minho clicks his tongue. “I don’t know…”

“Pleaseeee Min,” the lilt in your voice sounds oddly familiar. Minho holds his breath just in case you—yup. There it is. There goes that pout again.

It’d be so easy for him to lean down and kiss it right off your lips. He could blame it on the alcohol, maybe, but then that takes away from how he actually means it.

He sighs instead. “It’s gonna cost you.”

“An arm and a leg?”

“What? No—I meant some water.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Three shots and a full bottle of water later, Minho knows you’ve hit your limit. Cheeks flushed pink, a dopey grin on your face, pupils blown wide. Even in this state, Minho is certain that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Anotherrrr,” you slur, waving your cup in his face.

Minho shakes his head. “No can do. You’re cut off.”

“Please,” you whine, placing both hands on his shoulders, “I’ll do anything.”

Minho, completely taken back by the sudden closeness of your body to his, freezes.

“Anything?” he asks before he can stop himself.

This is stupid. You’re drunk. There’s no way you’re going to remember anything in the morning, much less within the next thirty minutes. He’s pretty sure that you’ll lose control of all your senses soon, which is why he’s already texted your roommate Jiwoo to unlock the door so he can carry you inside. Nothing he hasn’t done before.

“Anything,” you repeat, eyes going cross-eyed where they’re fixing on the mole he has at the tip of his nose.

This is stupid. But then again, so is Minho. A big, stupid fool that blames everything on the fact that he’s so in love with you it hurts. This might be the only chance he gets to shoot his shot.

Minho takes a deep breath, says something similar to a little prayer that’s more like Hey, if anyone’s listening, help a guy out, and hopes that the twenty bucks he sent Hyunjin works.

“Go on a date with me.” he says slowly, wincing when your eyes snap up to meet his gaze.

Well, there’s really no going back from that. The only thing that could possibly grant him redemption now is banking on the fact that you don’t remember anything in the morning.

Minho waits with bated breaths, watches as your eyes search his for a long while. He waits for the anger, the disgust, the visible repulsion that he starts to think might happen the longer the silence continues.

He’s about to backtrack, quickly conjuring up an excuse about how Oh, haha, gotcha! when your hands suddenly drop from his shoulders. You grab the cup, your chin tipped upwards, and hold it out for him to fill.

“Okay.”

“O…kay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Pour me another one.”

The next morning, when Minho all but drags himself into the kitchen in search of water and something to soothe the throbbing in his head, he nearly spits a mouthful at Jeongin, the poor guy too busy eating his cereal to realize he’s gotten a front row seat in the splash zone.

Y/N [10:34am]

so

when do you want to do that date?

🏠

Are candles too much?

Minho has options: clean linen, lavender breeze, ocean mist, warm vanilla. He really just needs something to get rid of the smell of cleaning spray.

He thought that having a night in for a first date would be ideal—less pressure, no unwanted attention, a bathroom that he can run into when he starts to hyperventilate if you smile at him for too long. But now that it’s happening, he’s convinced that every surface of his and Jeongin’s shared apartment will scare you away if anything so much as looks off-putting.

Minho is, to put it simply, freaking out. All the other times you’ve been over to his place were on a completely platonic level. Movie nights with all the other guys in tow, dropping off food that you felt generous enough to buy every once in a while, one time because you’d accidentally worn Minho’s jacket home from a party and needed to return it to him.

But this is different. This is a date. Minho’s not dreaming—he already pinched himself a dozen times in the bathroom mirror, tiny red marks on the inside of his forearm to prove it. He’s going to open the door, invite you in, cook for you, and then proceed to resist the urge to tell you how beautiful you are for however long the night continues on after that. He can practically hear Jeongin’s laugh in the back of his head, sneering at how pathetic his inner monologue sounds right now.

He needs to find another stain to scrub.

By the time you’re knocking on his door, Minho has changed his outfit seven times. Sweats were too casual, a button up was too fancy. Should he not have done his hair? No, that’s just lazy, the way his fringe is swept up and out of his forehead adds a nice touch that doesn’t scream Hey! I’m trying to woo you! You’ve never been the type to be impressed by grand gestures and shows of confidence anyways, he knows that well.

One time, when a guy from one of the frat houses hired the campus quartet to sing a song for you in the quad as he stood there with big beady eyes and a bouquet of roses in his hand, you’d all but ran from the scene, Minho following close behind as you called out to him over your shoulder. It’s one of his fondest memories. As soon as the two of you made it around the back of the science building, you’d doubled over in laughter, the both of you in disbelief at what had happened. Minho has had that information tucked into the deepest parts of his brain ever since, saved just in case he needed it.

(Later that night, in the safety of his own bed, he’d laughed maniacally at the situation. Something about watching you reject another guy filled him with a sense of joy he couldn’t explain. He just hoped he was never going to be on the receiving end of it.)

He does a quick once over of the kitchen: double checks that all the ingredients are out, blows a speck of dust off the glass stovetop, spins the tiny floral arrangement he bought so that it’s sitting at just the right angle. When the doorbell rings, the chime bouncing off the walls of the apartment, he visibly pales.

He has to reel it in, to remember that it’s just you. You might not even be here with any intentions other than to fulfill your end of the deal; one date in exchange for the extra three shots he poured you the other night. Minho takes a deep breath, grips the doorknob with conviction, and decides that he’s determined to show you the way you deserve to be treated. The opportunity is there, and he’s gonna take it.

As soon as the door swings open, every nerve that had somehow crept its way into his brain disappears, the sight of you standing on the other side immediately sending the anxiety scrambling and replacing it with fondness instead.

“Hi,” you smile, and Minho sees images of you coming home to his apartment flash across his mind. After class, after work, in the winter when it’s cold and your nose is tinted pink, on rainy days where the ends of your hair are damp and you have a wet umbrella in tow. He could get used to it. He’s so in love that it hurts.

“Hey,” he breathes out, stepping aside to make way for you, “Come in. Are you hungry?”

“Starving, actually. Been saving myself all day since I don’t always get to have your cooking.” You hop on to one of the stools, your attention momentarily stolen by the flower arrangement. One point for Minho.

I’d cook for you every day, he wants to say. But that’s weird, right? So instead, “Well then I guess today is your lucky day.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” You say softly.

Minho can’t see you with the way his back is turned, hands moving to grab out the knife and cutting board, but if he could he’d see the way your eyes are staring softly at his back, the ghost of a smile on your lips.

Conversation flows easily after that, despite Minho’s original worries about it being awkward. You’re not necessarily treating it as a date, and he isn’t really either. It feels more like a glorified hangout, just the two of you spending time together with the added glances and smiles that normally wouldn’t be there.

Minho finds it easy to get lost in you. He finds himself craving to know more about your day, about the things that’ve been on your mind lately and the hobbies you’ve picked up. Most of the conversation is a continuation of stuff that’s fallen through the cracks during the times you see each other, but he doesn’t miss the way you ask about him too, your eyes shining with genuine interest. It makes his heart slam against his ribcage.

“How are your cats doing?”

Minho looks up from the cutting board, follows your gaze to where it’s fixed on the scattered pictures that litter his fridge. “They’re good,” he says, smiling down at a head of garlic, “My mom sends pictures all the time. She says they claw at the door to my room when they miss me.” He smashes the garlic under the knife’s blade by hitting it with the heel of his palm. “It’s cute.”

“You’re cute.”

Minho, in a very flashy demonstration of what it means to be cool, calm, and collected, slices his thumb mid-chop.

“Shit.” he mutters, dropping the knife.

It’s not that bad, just a little nick, the surprise was mostly what scared him. He probably doesn’t even need a bandaid. But despite how small it is, nothing stops you from hurriedly walking up to him and taking his hand in yours, his thumb held closely to your face for inspection.

“Are you okay?” You turn his hand over between your fingers, the soft pads of them against his calloused ones. Minho is dumbfounded, struggling to find the words to say.

“Yeah—um, it’s fine. My fault. I was distracted.” He stammers out, pulling his hand back and holding it up. He wiggles his fingers, making a show of bending and twisting his thumb that, at most, has just a small cut on the side. “See? Perfect.”

Your face relaxes, and then you’re laughing. Why are you laughing? Either Minho looks like a complete idiot or he’s suddenly the funniest person in the world for being clumsy and reckless and almost ruining the night by losing a finger. Whichever one it is, he doesn’t care, as long as he gets to hear that sound again.

“Let me help cook, please? I know you said you would do it all but clearly you’re a threat to the integrity of this meal.” You say, bumping your hip against his to move him away from the cutting board.

Minho scoffs. “I wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t catch me off guard.”

“So what? You admit that I make you flustered?”

Oh.

Minho wasn’t prepared for this. He wasn’t prepared for the—the flirting that’s clearly happening. You’re flirting with him, right? Why else would you have called him cute or given him that suspicious side eye after you asked that question?

You and Minho have joked around like this before, but it was always empty with no real feelings attached—as far as he could tell. You’re a naturally friendly person, getting along with others comes easy to you. He’s seen the way you talk to the other guys and has always just assumed he was no different in your eyes than they were. Sure, there were moments where maybe your hand lingered on his arm for a little while after he made you laugh, or the two of you would steal glances across the room. Sometimes when Hyunjin said something stupid you’d both catch the other’s eye and make a face, just another funny way of proving that you were both on the same wavelength most of the time. It’s kind of why Minho is so taken with you—he’s never met anyone that gets him the same way.

Reluctantly, Minho puts his pride aside and allows you to help. And as it turns out, you’re actually really good at cooking. Minho doesn’t have to instruct you much, and before he knows it you’re both working like a well-oiled machine, scooting past one another as you switch places between the stove and the sink, reading each other’s minds without even having to ask.

“Taste this.” You say, holding the spoon up to his mouth. Minho leans forward, front teeth poking out, and brings the spoon into his mouth. You cup your hand under his chin to catch any droppings, watching in anticipation as he smacks his lips together.

His eyes light up, big and brown and twinkling under the light of the kitchen. “Perfect.” He smiles.

“Oh you have—uh,” you stop him with a hand on his forearm just as he’s about to turn back to the sink, your other hand hovering next to his face hesitantly, “It’s just, um, your—here.”

Minho’s eyes go wide when your thumb swipes against the corner of his mouth, your touch feather light. It’s so intimate, the only sound being the music playing low from the speaker on the counter. He’s half convinced that you’re able to hear his heartbeat, blood pumping loud in his ears.

“You had some sauce…on your face.” You say shyly, your palm still pressed to his cheek.

“…Oh.”

Minho’s never really looked into your eyes from this close up before. He’s always known they were beautiful, the shape of them soft, full of nothing but the world. He can see himself in them from here, and, selfishly, he hopes you can see yourself in his, too.

He might be imagining it when your gaze flicks down to his lips for just a fraction of a second, but there’s no time to unpack any of that when the sauce starts bubbling over the edge of the pot, spilling on to the burner as loud sizzling and smoke fills the kitchen.

It’s chaos. The bottom of the pot is burnt and there’s only so much of it that’s salvageable. He only bought the exact amount of ingredients too, because this is a self-proclaimed no-food-waste household (as explicitly stated in the napkin contract he has with Jeongin, much to his dismay). So, hooray for conscious consumption of goods!

At the end of it all, there’s no one to blame. You’re both guilty of…whatever that was.

Minho tries to reassure you that it’s okay as he dials the number for the pizza place just down the street, simultaneously shutting down all your attempts to pay as an apology. It doesn’t matter to him, he’d do anything as long as it means he gets to spend time with you. At the end of the day, it’s another memory that he’ll hold close to his heart.

“Listen,” you say, swallowing down a mouthful of pizza, the both of you seated on his couch with a half-eaten box of pizza open on the coffee table, “I know you wanted to cook and all—which, by the way, I’m still sorry—but this is so good. However I’m sure whatever you made would’ve been better.”

Minho chuckles. “Stop lying,” he wipes his hands on a napkin, “I can guarantee you that whatever I cooked wouldn’t be as good as this anyways.”

“Stop selling yourself short, Min. You’re good at everything you do.”

The words fall from your lips so easily, like it’s something you’ve convinced yourself of long ago. Minho’s never been the type to bounce around from one thing to another, always choosing to stick with it until he has it down to a science. Cooking is one of them. Jeongin can attest to all the times Minho has berated him with tasting his latest dishes, chasing him around the apartment with a spoon. The words tighten themselves around his heart.

“I’m not,” he rolls his eyes, “But nine times out of ten, grease and mozzarella cheese are gonna win. I know that for a fact.”

You laugh, and the conversation gradually diverts into a debate about the top ten best greasy foods in existence. You’re heated, half kneeling on the couch with a finger pointed at him as you plead your case for onion rings, when your eyes go past Minho’s head and settle on the shelf of games in the hallway.

“You have games?” you ask, suddenly giddy with excitement as you hurry over to inspect the selection.

Minho watches with fond eyes, collects the plates and napkins to throw away. “Yeah, most of them are Innie’s. We don’t really use them. Sometimes when we’re drunk, other times when we’re bored and decide to wager money for fun.”

You hum, not really paying attention. Monopoly, Chutes and Ladders, some decks of cards, Uno—you scan the shelf until your eyes light up at what you find hidden at the bottom.

“Min! Can we play Jenga?”

“Jenga?” Minho asks, re-entering the living room. The coffee table is clear now, and he sits between it and the couch, his back against the cushion. “Isn’t that kind of boring? We have other stuff there.”

“It’s only boring if you play it the way it’s supposed to be played.” You roll your eyes. Minho turns to you when you situate yourself on the floor beside him and only momentarily contemplates running to the bathroom when your knee knocks against his. He’s been holding it together pretty well so far, however The Sauce Incident had him ready to book it if anything had gone further.

“Well how else are we supposed to play it?” He frowns.

“We make up our own rules.”

The pieces scatter across the wood of the coffee table, clacking as you diligently begin putting them together. “This is a date, right?” You ask, stopping for a moment to turn and assess his response.

Minho stills. He genuinely forgot the grounds on which tonight had even happened in the first place. Spending time with you makes him forget everything else. And, despite his fears in the beginning, being on a date with you has felt so natural that it almost seems like you’ve done it a thousand times before.

Your eyes meet. For a moment, Minho lets himself wonder what it’d be like if he went for it right then and there. “Yeah,” he says slowly, unblinking, hoping you can see the sincerity on his face, “A date. One of the best ones I’ve ever been on, actually.”

He almost cries out in victory when your face flushes pink. “Now who’s a liar?” You ask quietly, going back to piecing together the game.

Minho has learned something new tonight: he really likes seeing you flustered.

“Why do you ask?” he decides to cut you the slack, “Or what does this being a date have to do with Jenga rules?”

He waits as you finish the stack, your tongue sticking out in concentration. You’re so cute. Minho mentally pockets that image for safe keeping.

“Sorry, okay, it’s done. But basically, if we pull out a block, we get to ask the other person a question.”

“And if the tower falls…?”

“Hmm,” you think for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, “Oh! I know. If you lose you have to tell me why you asked me on a date.”

Minho’s stomach flips. “Okay. If you lose you have to tell me why you accepted the date.”

Something unreadable passes over your face, but it’s gone in an instant. You hold your hand out for a shake, and Minho wraps his fingers around it gently.

“Deal.”

“Why are you taking all of the middle pieces?” Minho pouts.

The two of you have gone through a couple turns by now, throwing out random questions for the better half of fifteen minutes. Favorite colors, childhood foods you wouldn’t eat, the best memory you have from high school. Minho’s learned a lot, has fallen for you a lot more. But that was always a given. It’s impossible not to when he can feel the warmth from your body where you’re seated next to him, your presence overtaking all of his senses.

“Because I’m trying to win,” you laugh, putting your freshly pulled piece at the top. Just a little crooked, too. To piss him off. “Favorite movie?”

“Ponyo. Easy. My turn.”

“Seriously? Why Ponyo?”

“One question at a time, princess.”

He means it as a joke, really. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until after the fact, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. Minho notices, the corners of his lips tugging downwards as he suppresses a smile. He manages to flick one of the side pieces until it gives way.

“What’s one thing you regret?”

“Ooh, getting deep I see.” You laugh, taking a sip of your soda. There’s a long pause, and then, “I regret spilling my coffee on Hyunjin that day.”

Minho’s brow furrows. You…regret it? He runs through all the possible reasons in his head. Surely it can’t be because you regret becoming friends with them, friends with him, right?

“Why?” He chances.

“One question at a time, princess.” You echo, laughing at his shocked expression.

You remove the last middle piece. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate our first date?”

Minho’s brain is going a thousand miles a minute. “A ten. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He says it fast, wastes no time in moving forward to remove his own piece. He doesn’t even notice that your cheeks have gone pink again, too busy itching to ask his next question.

“Why do you regret spilling your coffee on Hyunjin?”

Minho watches you, lets his mind wander to the worst possible thing you could say in this situation, and mentally prepares to book it to the bathroom.

You take a deep breath, “I regret it because I wasn’t supposed to spill it on him. I was supposed to spill it on you.”

Wait, what?

Minho blinks. “What are you talking about?”

This is humiliating for you. A terrible thing to have to admit. Up until this moment, you’d thought that this information would follow you to your grave. You press the heel of your palms to your eyes, “This is so embarrassing,” you groan.

Minho pulls one hand away. He’s not really sure what to say, mostly because he’s confused, but, “You can tell me.”

“I had…” you start, looking up at him slowly, “A plan. With Jiwoo.” Minho nods for you to continue. “I’d seen you and Hyunjin walking through the quad a few times, and I thought that you were cute, but I didn't know how to approach you. So I did something stupid and decided that I would literally just crash into you. But I fucked it up.”

I thought that you were cute. The words echo in Minho’s ears like a bell. All this time, all those stolen glances and lingering touches, all the ways you would make hope spike in his chest that maybe you felt the same—they were real.

“So you, wait—” Minho shakes his head, “So you’re telling me that all this time…”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Min, really. All this time.”

Minho’s never been skydiving, but he imagines that this is what it feels like. Free falling—his soul hurtling towards earth at a horrifying speed, slamming back into his body right here in his living room with a force so strong it would knock him off his feet if he wasn’t already sitting on the floor. You were interested in him first.

Wordlessly, you lean forward, pulling out a piece with practiced ease. Minho waits with bated breaths.

“Can I kiss you?”

Minho feels like he might pass out. “Am I dreaming right now?”

“You didn’t pull out a piece.”

He scrambles forward, clumsily nudging a piece on the side that ends up sending the entire tower toppling over. You smile at him, soft and sweet. “Looks like you have to pay up with an answer. You know, since you lost.”

Minho doesn’t care. “Because I like you,” he breathes out, “I asked you on a date because I like you. I like you so much, ever since I saw you that day. And, funnily enough, I’ve always wished you’d spilled that coffee on me instead, too.”

The confession feels like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He’s spent so long pining after you, laying awake at night thinking about how this would go down if he ever got the chance. He never expected for it to happen like this, much less for you to possibly feel the same.

Panic slowly starts to rise in his chest when you don’t respond. He watches as you reach an arm over, build a small tower out of a few pieces, and then knock it over. You turn to him with a small smile, “Oops, I lost too.”

Minho is so in love with you that it hurts.

“I accepted the date because I like you, Minho. I’ve just been waiting for you to ask.”

He doesn’t think twice before he’s surging forward, cupping your face with one hand and kissing you with a tenderness that has you melting into his touch.

There’s no fireworks behind his eyes, no big bang or grand display of whatever it is that happens in the movies. But there’s a warmth, it starts out small in the center of his chest and spreads throughout his entire body, lights his skin aflame and travels all the way to his fingertips. You’re like that. A gentle presence, someone who worms their way into the very essence of his being and burrows into the deepest parts of him, like it was never his to begin with. Kissing you is slow, and deep, and right. He wouldn’t want it any other way. Minho doesn’t ever want to stop.

He lets his other hand fall to your waist, pulls you closer until you’re practically straddling him with his back against the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. Minho lets out a long, drawn out groan when you tilt his head back farther, his lips parting and allowing you to lick inside of his mouth. It’s so good. So good. He can’t believe he ever lived without knowing what this felt like; lived without ever having you this close before.

After a while, Minho reluctantly pulls back, holding you by the shoulders. When he looks up, your eyes are half-lidded. You look utterly debauched, cheeks pink and lips swollen from how hard they’d been pressed against his own. “We should probably slow down.” He tries hard to convince himself, too. “Talk about it all, you know? I don’t—this isn’t a one time thing for me. I don’t want it to be. I like you. I want you to know that.” He says softly, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

You lean into his hand, smiling when he flattens his palm to let your head rest there. “You’re like, so perfect that I want to kiss you until you forget your own name.”

Minho’s ears go red, his head falling forward until it rests against your collarbone. The feeling of his breath against your skin makes you laugh and run a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck fondly.

“This is gonna be so bad now that you say stuff like that.”

“Bad? No, I think it’s cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” he whines, but there’s no bite to it. Not when he can look up and press a kiss to your lips. A dream come true. The entire world in his hands, exactly where it was always meant to be.

🏠

In the morning, when Jeongin comes back home, one hand covering his eyes just in case, he calls out,

“Everyone better be dressed! Or else I’m ripping up that napkin and making a new one with No fornicating on the furniture added into the fine print.”

When he doesn’t get a response, he rounds the corner, and finds the two of you nestled into the couch. Minho’s back is pressed into the cushions, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

Jeongin huffs out a laugh, sends a quick text to Hyunjin that reads: Negative. Clothes are still on. But they’re so cute it’s almost sickening.

He snaps a picture to send to the group chat, grabs a piece of cold pizza, and retreats to his room.

Yang Jeongin Fanclub

jeongin: [Attachment: 1 image]

chan: AWWWWWWW

jiwoo: i’m gonna cry

changbin: dude is that the good pizza from down the street?

hyunjin: FINALLY

hyunjin: wait

hyunjin: does this mean i have to send back his $20?

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie ]

© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 COULD’VE BEEN aeri uchinaga x reader

❚ ❚ 𓍢 JIHYORURI 106 FM | jihyoruri 106 FM catalog for today brought to you by your very own jihyoruri! new music by aeri uchinaga will follow up next ; idol!au, oc group, fluff, angst, yearning

❝I ain’t just just your friend, no, what’s the point of lying? tryna sell a story ain’t nobody buyin’ look me in my eyes don’t feel nice?❞

❝I could’ve been him, more than your friend❞

now playing : could’ve been by aeri uchinaga 1:35 ━━○───── 3:47 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

when aeri first met yn during her trainee days, she was just the annoying younger girl who always stuck by yizhuo's side.

aeri had only exchanged a few words with her here and there, but honestly, she tried her best to avoid yn altogether. she was immature, and had complete unfiltered qualities. aeri couldn’t wrap her head around, especially in someone aspiring to become an idol.

but aeri couldn’t deny it, yn had this strange way of standing out. even if she annoyed her, aeri often caught herself watching yn interact with others, finding a surprising amount of entertainment in the chaos she brought with her everywhere she went.

she kind of missed the chaos yn used to bring, the way she managed to turn everyone's day upside down with that relentless energy.

that was until about two years after aespa’s debut.

aeri was lounging on the couch, half-watching a movie on the tv, when she heard the front door open. she didn’t even need to glance up to know it was yizhuo, her footsteps were unmistakable. but what stopped her cold was the voice that followed.

her head snapped up, the tv forgotten. eyebrows furrowing, she stared as the person walking in beside yizhuo came into view. they looked so familiar yet so... different.

confident, polished, and undeniably good looking. it took her a second to connect the dots, but when she did, her breath hitched.

yn.

“wha…” she trailed off.

“look who I found!” yizhuo exclaimed with a wide grin as she wrapped an arm around yn’s shoulders. “our yn! she’s still a trainee at sm.”

aeri’s gaze immediately locked onto yn, who gave her that crooked smile she always used to give to her during training.

“yn…” aeri said, sitting up a little straighter. “you look…” she trailed off, her face heating up as yn raised a brow, clearly waiting for aeri to finish.

“sorry, I forgot what I was gonna say,” aeri quickly covered, waving it off. “whoa, dude, I haven’t seen you in so long! and you’re still a trainee? how’s that going?”

“it’s been good,” yn replied smoothly, her voice carrying a more confident tone than aeri remembered. “I’m supposed to debut next year, so you guys can look forward to that.”

yizhuo squealed with excitement while aeri’s eyes widened in surprise. “congratulations! that’s awesome. I remember you were really into songwriting are you working on stuff for the group?”

yn opened her mouth to answer, but yizhuo cut in enthusiastically. “she is! she was just talking about songwriting on the way here, and I told her you’ve been struggling a bit with your own songs. you guys should totally help each other!”

trainee aeri would’ve run for the hills if someone had told her she'd end up working in a studio alone with yn. the thought of spending hours with the loud, unfiltered girl who once wreaked havoc during practice sessions would have been unbearable.

but now?

“that’s a cool idea.”

aeri glanced at yn, who was leaning casually against the desk, her eyes fixed on aeri with quiet patience as she waited for her answer.

this wasn’t the same yn she remembered. there was something calmer about her now, more refined, though the spark in her eyes remained.

“that’s a cool idea,” aeri finally said, her voice steady.

and that’s how it all started.

and it only took four prominent moments for everything to shift completely.

the first session was awkward, to say the least. aeri sat stiffly in the chair, headphones on, scrolling through their tracklist. yn was unusually quiet, sitting across from her and tapping a pen against her notebook. finally , she broke the silence.

“so, uh… how do you usually start these?” yn asked, tilting her head.

aeri sighed, pulling off her headphones. “I don’t know. sometimes I just hum random stuff and see if it sticks.”

“huh,” yn said, her lips curving into a smile. “sounds messy. I like it.”

aeri rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at her lips. “what about you? got any lyrics hidden in that notebook of yours?”

yn hesitated before flipping open the notebook, revealing a page covered in scribbles. “It’s kinda rough,” she admitted, handing it over.

aeri read through it, her eyebrows raising. “by rough, do you mean really good?.”

“really?” yn’s eyes lit up, and for a moment, aeri felt a pang in her chest. It was the first time she noticed how sincere yn’s smile could be.

after a couple sessions , the awkwardness had melted away, replaced by easy banter. as they worked on a melody, yn suddenly asked, “do you think I’ll be a good idol?”

aeri paused, looking up from the keyboard. “why would you even ask that?”

yn shrugged, spinning her chair in slow circles. “I don’t know. I’ve always felt like I’m… too much. too loud. too all over the place.”

“that’s ridiculous,” aeri said firmly. “you’re passionate, and you care. and honestly? you’ve grown a lot since we were trainees. I think you’ll be amazing.”

yn’s spinning stopped, and she looked at aeri with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. “thanks,” she said softly.

the room felt heavier during their later sessions. yn would lean in close to adjust something on the screen, and aeri could feel her breath against her skin. they worked late into the night, and the air between them felt charged.

“this is turning out pretty good,” yn said one night, sitting back and listening to their latest track.

“yeah,” aeri murmured, her eyes focused on the screen but her mind elsewhere. yn’s voice had gotten deeper, more confident, and it lingered in aeri thoughts long after their sessions ended.

yn stretched, her shirt riding up slightly, and aeri quickly averted her gaze, her face heating up.

“you okay?” yn asked, her tone teasing but her eyes curious.

“fine,” aeri said quickly, fumbling with her notes

this session was unknowingly their last one and it was filled unspoken emotions. they had just finished writing the bridge of a song , and the energy between them was undeniable.

yn leaned closer, her voice low. “you know… I don’t think I’ve ever felt this comfortable with anyone before.”

aeri’s breath caught as yn’s eyes flickered to her lips. she knew what was coming and felt her heart hammering in her chest.

but as yn moved closer, aeri panicked. “don’t,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

yn froze, confusion flashing in her eyes. “what’s wrong?”

“you’re still young, yn,” aeri said, standing up abruptly. “you’re yizhuo’s friend. and with your debut next year… this could never work.”

yn’s expression shifted to one of hurt, but she nodded slowly. “if that’s how you feel…”

“It is,” aeri said, though the crack in her voice betrayed her.

“okay, cool.” yn replied she look down at her phone and saw the time, it was pretty late, she gathered her things and left not without muttering a quick bye.

aeri sat back down, her hands trembling and that’s when she got the feeling that this was their last session.

she couldn’t believe how far they’d come or how much she was already starting to miss her.

but it was for the best, for both her and yn.

aeri and yn hadn’t talked since that night. yizhuo asked a few times what had happened, but aeri always brushed it off, saying yn was getting closer to her debut and was too busy.

but that wasn’t true.

yn had always made time for her.

if there was one thing aeri knew she would always regret, it was that night. months had passed almost a year and she couldn’t shake the hollow feeling that came with it. sometimes, it felt like she was forgetting yn entirely, her voice, her laugh, the way her presence could fill a room.

that was until one early summer morning.

utopia.

that was the groups name.

aeri curled up in her bed, the glow of her phone screen illuminating her face as she replayed the music video over and over again. yn looked so good.

the internet was already going wild over the group. they were a surprise debut, sm had dropped hints here and there, there was even an instagram account with the groups name that had little secret promotions but no one had pieced it together.

now, utopia was all anyone could talk about and it’s only been a couple hours since they debuted and it was clear they were destined for massive success.

aeri felt a bittersweet ache in her chest as she watched. she was proud, so proud, that yn had finally debuted with three other girls who seemed to care about her deeply. but there was also a selfish part of her that couldn’t ignore the sting of jealousy.

the whole world knew yn now. they’d see her the way aeri did, cherish her the way she always had. and aeri wasn’t sure how to handle that.

this was awkward.

aeri and jimin stood across from yn and sooyoung, utopia’s leader. aeri recognized sooyoung immediately, she was a former member of loona, someone aeri had always respected from afar.

one of utopia’s managers stepped in after the brief greetings. “okay, yn, you’ll be teaching aeri the choreography, and sooyoung, you’ll work with karina. we need to move quickly since there’s an interview right after this, so let’s keep it efficient.”

aeri shifted on her feet, stealing a glance at yn, who was already watching her with an unreadable expression. this was going to be interesting.

jimin had already walked over to sooyoung, eager to learn her small part of the dance, leaving aeri standing there, unsure of what to do next.

yn squinted at her for a moment, as if sizing her up, before she walked closer, her steps confident. “let’s start.” she said, her tone calm but direct.

aeri felt a flutter in her chest at the proximity, but she quickly shook it off. “right. let’s get to it,” she replied, trying to sound casual, though her nerves were starting to show.

yn didn’t say anything more, just motioned for aeri to stand in the center of the room. “okay, watch closely.”

as yn demonstrated the first few steps, aeri couldn’t help but notice how fluid and natural her movements were. there was no hesitation, no self doubt. just pure confidence.

aeri tried to focus, but the heat in her chest was hard to ignore, she doesn’t know how ended up learning the dance properly but she thankfully followed yn’s moves smoothly.

after the four of them finished filming the dance challenge, yn and sooyoung’s managers were already ushering the girls out of the room, leaving aeri and jimin to gather their things.

jimin glanced at aeri,“so, that’s her?”

aeri froze for a moment before looking at jimin. “huh?”

“the girl.”

“yeah, that’s her.”

“she’s cute.”

"she is," aeri sighed, the words slipping out before she could stop them. seeing yn again stirred up emotions she’d been burying for months, feelings she thought she’d finally gotten under control.

but now, with yn so close yet so out of reach, it felt impossible to keep pretending. aeri wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up.

aeri hadn’t been wrong when she said utopia was destined for success. in just a few months, the group was everywhere, on billboards, variety shows, and music charts. it felt impossible to avoid them.

impossible to avoid yn.

it was overwhelming. every time she saw yn, every time they crossed paths or exchanged even the smallest interaction, the feelings aeri had been desperately trying to bury came rushing back, stronger than ever. no matter how hard she tried to push them away, they always found their way back to her.

she kept her expression neutral as she watched the four juniors deliver their thank you speech. glancing around, she noticed the way all the other groups were looking at them, faces full of awe, especially when yn stepped up to the mic.

just seeing yn on that big stage, accepting a well earned award, made aeri’s heart ache. soon, countless idols would approach yn to congratulate her, offer their praise and admiration.

and she wouldn’t be one of them.

but she had to be.

she couldn’t keep going on like this.

the show was over before aeri even realized it, her mind racing as she slipped away from her group, ignoring their confused looks.

she wandered through the backstage hallways, her heart pounding as she searched for any sign of yn. it took a while, but eventually, she found them, utopia standing in front of their dressing room, proudly chatting as they waited for their manager to unlock the door.

aeri’s eyes landed on yn, who was wrapped in april’s arms, laughing softly as they waited. for a moment, she just stood there, unsure of what to do. finally, she cleared her throat, the sound breaking through their conversation.

all four girls turned to look at her, their expressions shifting to polite surprise as they bowed immediately.

“hi, I actually just wanted to talk to yn,” aeri said, her voice awkward as the door to the dressing room swung open.

april unwrapped her arms from around yn and stepped inside, offering aeri a small smile. aihan followed without sparing a glance, while sooyoung lingered for a moment. she gave aeri a look that sent chills down her spine before disappearing into the room.

the door closed and yn turned to fully look aeri in the eyes, “hey…”

“hi, I just wanted to say congratulations, on everything, utopia is so successful, I’m so happy for you.”

“hi,” aeri began, her voice a little shaky. “I just wanted to say congratulations on everything. utopia is so successful. I’m... I’m so happy for you.”

"thank you," yn said softly, her tone calm. "is that it?"

"no, actually," aeri replied, letting out a nervous sigh. "yn, I’m sorry about—"

"it’s okay," yn interrupted, her voice even but firm. "I can’t force you to like me. I completely misread the situation, and... you’re right."

"what?" aeri’s voice cracked, the weight of yn’s words hitting her like a punch to the chest.

"you’re right," yn continued, her gaze steady but distant. "I’m younger, I’m just starting my career, and it’s off to a good start. I shouldn’t have even thought we could’ve been something. that was my mistake."

"no, I—" aeri tried to protest, but yn wasn’t finished.

"it’s okay," yn said again, though her voice wavered at the edges, betraying a crack in her composure. "let’s just not talk about it anymore and be cool. we’re cool, right?"

the slight break in yn’s voice at the end nearly broke aeri completely, but she swallowed hard, trying to steady herself. "I... yeah. we’re cool

"good." yn offered her that classic crooked smile, one that used to make aeri’s heart race, before she turned and opened the door to the dressing room. "thanks. see you around."

the door shut softly behind her, leaving aeri alone in the hallway.

aeri stood there for a moment, the lump in her throat growing heavier by the second.

this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

[gyusrose]

➵ i still get jealous -> y. jw

⚠︎ smut ! (mdni)

✎ toxic!jungwon, unprotected sex, degrading, dirty talk, face-fucking, angry sex

summary: you’ve been friends with jake for as long as you can remember, jungwon shouldn’t feel insecure about him, right?

wc: 1.5k

{ jungwon x fem.reader}

( i got inspired by that one question they asked won in the fan meet hehehe)

“wonie? wonie? is everything alright?” jungwon gripped the steering wheel locking his jaw. of course he wasn’t alright.

you’ve spent the entire night (according to him) on your phone texting that fucker. it’s always ‘jake this’ ‘jake that’ he’s starting to feel a certain way about this dude.

jungwon shook his head at your question, not trying to start arguing while he’s driving.

“you’re just awfully silent, is something bothering you? do you feel sick?”

jungwon rolled his eyes at your naiveness, you pretty much ignored him (again according to him) the whole night.

“i don’t know, maybe ask jake how he feels.” there. he said it, well.. spatted.

you instantly rolled your eyes, he’s back at it again.

“don’t start, you know exactly what’s between me and jake.”

“are you sure ? you were giggling on the phone the whole night!”

“i answered one 3-minute call! that’s it! do you not trust me ?”

“i sometimes feel like i don’t, you barely talked to me, it always jake jake jake jake.”

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. where was he getting all of this from?

jungwon was in fact wrong. you didn’t ignore him nor talked with jake the whole night. you answers ONE call from him and then turned off your phone to give jungwon all your undivided attention. but jungwon like always, overthinks everything.

“at this point just date him.” at this point jungwon was furious.

“oh stop being ridiculous jungwon!”

“oh i’m ridiculous ? alright we’ll see.”

the rest of the ride was quiet, you didn’t have the guts to respond to jungwon after what he said. your breath quickened, for some reason you felt..nervous?

jungwon threw his keys on the counter as y’all entered the apartment.

he pulled you into the bedroom in a blink of an eye, gripping your neck, so you’re looking at him straight in the eye.

“i’m gonna fucking teach you, not to be such a little slut, i’m the only man you should talk to, am i right?”

you nodded quickly.

“use your words”

“yes, yes jungwon only you.”

he let go of your neck, now stripping from his clothes, you went along with his steps and took your own clothes off.

“on your knees baby.”

he said stroking his dick in front of you.

“you know what to do.” you grabbed his base and licked the tip slowly. feeling the urge to tease him.

jungwon groaned at your actions. grabbing your chin.

“nuh uh, open wide, i see what you’re trying to do.” you opened up your mouth while he grabbed hair into a ponytail. his hips thrusted up inside your mouth as he pushed your head down onto his cock. pretty much fucking the hell out of your face.

jungwon’s eyes closed in pleasure as he continued to furiously thrust into your mouth, the feeling of tagging drove him over the edge, the way your throat closes made his dick twitch.

“fuck yeah, that’s right, keep that mouth open for me whore. “

at some point you couldn’t take it anymore and started moaning into his dick sending vibrations through it.

he finally pulled out of your mouth, not wanting to cum so easily. you were just adjusting your breathing when you felt being thrown into the bed.

“are you tired already ? i haven’t even fucked you yet, how pathetic.” she said shaking his head in disappointment.

without any warning, he inserted two of his long fingers into your cunt, making your back arch at the sudden sensation. he purposely went really slow, loving to see how stressed you’d get. lifting your hips up a little to go faster.

jungwon held your hips still, smacking the inside of your thigh, making you squirm.

“you think i’m going to let you do what you want?” his fingers still thrusting into you curling them inside.

you moaned loudly, wanting to be filled up already.

“please jungwon, fuck me, just fuck me!”

jungwon chuckled, this is how he wanted to see you, begging for him only him.

“so desperate for my dick, you fucking love it don’t you?” he said looking straight at you.

you could barely form a sentence but you managed to.

“yes please wonie just fill me up, i need you.” jungwon didn’t want to give in so easily but fuck was that so hard to do when you’re looking at him with those eyes begging to be fucked.

he retracted his fingers from you and instead lined himself up with your entrance. the wetness from his dick and your pussy was more than enough lube.

he dragged his dick up and down your pussy making you whine.

finally, he slowly entered you. nothing could be compared to the feeling of being inside of you. the way your pussy engrossed his cock almost made him cum on the spot.

jungwon wasted almost no time and started slamming into you with no mercy, your cries could probably be heard from blocks away.

the bed squeaked with every thrust he stirred.

“oh fuck jungwon, just like that fuck yes!” he knew how to drive you crazy, knowing exactly where to hit in your insides.

“mhm yeah? you like that? can jake fuck you like this? can he?” he grabbed your chin straight at him. normally you would roll your eyes at his remarks over your best friend but how hot it looked right now.

wanting to tease him more, you nodded your head.

“i don’t know maybe, he could probably go faster..” jungwon was appalled.

his thrusts weee enraged. you could feel how infuriated he was with every one of them. it was amazing.

“oh you think? can he make you feel like this? huh?” his hand lowered to your pussy, rubbing your clit in circular motion making you hips snap at the impact it had on your body.

you whines, moaned and groaned at all once.

“answer me!”

“no-shit - not he can’t.” with the speed he was going at, jungwon was dying for this view, you tits bouncing up at every thrust, he couldn’t help but lean down to suck and fondle them.

your hands reached down to his hair, gripping it not wanting him to pull away from them.

jungwon pulled away from your nipple and leaned back to his original position. now putting your legs over his shoulder in order to go even deeper (if possible) .

“only i can see you like this, you get that slut? no one, specifically jake can.”

“yes only you baby, fuck i’m gonna cum!” tears could be seen streaming down your face from the immense amount of pleasure you were receiving. jungwon wiped your tears then leaned down engulfing you in a deep kiss. his tongue swirled around yours, it felt like everything all at once. lust, love, anger, compassion.

“who’s pussy is this huh? tell me.”

“i’m cumming holy shit.”

“do not cum! tell me answer my question! who’s pussy is this?”

the ecstasy from the pleasure but now the urge to cum made your mind numb. barely forming a sentence.

“yours jungwon.” you said quietly, sure he heard it but he wasn’t content with it.

“i can’t hear you!” jungwon leaned closer to you. smirking. he wanted to cum so bad, but he wanted to hear you say that before it.

“yours jungwon! all yours to fuck.” you said much louder this time, the stress visible in your voice.

that’s all it took jungwon to come undone inside of you.

“fuck cum with me baby, cum all over my dick.” your orgasm mixed with his meant a furor of moans echoing around the bedroom.

jungwon pulled out of you before plopping right next to you, hugging your waist.

“tell that fucker to not call you so much.” you chuckled and kissed his lips knowing damn well that you’ll probably do it again in order to have this side of jungwon again.

[sweetnans]

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K. (pt.4)

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

Trope: Enemies/friends to lovers.

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3♡ -> Pt.5

m.list

Is there anything better than privacy?

Nope.

Bakugo had a room for his own. His roommate bailed from college right after the first class. He had an awakening about his future or something like that he had said before taking all his clothes and leaving. Bakugo felt some sort of relief that lasted...ten minutes? His friends used to invade his space quiet often. When he came to his room after seeing your flirting with Todoroki (from afar according to him), Kirishima and Sero were there talking about a game. They noticed in an instant that something was happening to his friend. He had his usual scowl on his face, but his brows were knitted together. A bad omen.

"Hey dude, what's up with that face?" Seemed like Sero was the one who grew a pair overnight.

Bakugo only grunted on his way to the closet. He needed to change his clothes to go to the stupid party you were attending. He made sure of that.

What if he sees you with Todoroki? Was it going to make his stupid stomach churn again?

"Hey man, we were talking about the party," Kirishima said, gaining part of his attention. "We were thinking about staying here, playing games, drinking our secret stash-"

"Fuck no" he didn't even stutter.

The reaction from Bakugo set an alarm to both of his friends. They knew about how casanova Bakugo could be, but he never, ever, showed that much, the fact that they were almost certain, after what happened with you just a week ago, that his friend's response was going to be a solid yes.

"Why so eager?" Sero asked.

"I just need the distraction," Bakugo shrugged while picking and searching the proper outfit.

He was vane most of the time, but he never took more than five minutes to choose a plain shirt and baggy jeans. Kirishima knew very well what was going on.

"Sero, why don't you go knock Mina's door and tell her about the change of plans"

Kirishima tried to be subtle. Man, he tried. Fortunately, Bakugo was so busy trying to decide between a white shirt and a black shirt that he didn't notice the exchange of looks that his friends were doing right under his nose.

"Sure," Sero winked to Kirishima and left the room.

Kirishima didn't know how to address the topic. His friend would definitely deny it, and they would be doing a full circle with yes and no that would end up in Bakugo just answering with noises.

Bakugo couldn't stop touching the fabric of his clothes. Was it too soft? Was it too white? What if there was a theme he didn't know about?

"You're panicking." Kirishima crossed his arms while leaning on his desk chair. He wouldn't lie, the scene was comical to witness. "You know you can talk to me"

The friendship between the two of them was something that most people didn't understand. Kirishima was always smiling, talking to everyone and telling jokes, while Bakugo, well, he had a permanent scowl on his face, rarely showed any other emotion than bored superiority and the only events that people saw him interacting with other people was with only one purpose, to state that he was better than everybody else. He was considered a private man and someone who had a police tape that said, do not cross.

"I don't know what's happening to me," he said, exposing his heart. He wasn't going to start naming or counting details. It was implicit, and Kirishima understood very well.

"You know what, man, you need to clear your head a little. This week had been rough. What about a beer pong to drain some stress off?"

Bakugo nodded to himself without even glancing at his friend. He needed a distraction, and he was almost sure that a party was a good place to find it.

...

"I can't believe that you, the queen of punctuality, is late" Jirou was losing it with you, the fact that you left her on read after she sent that demanding text and that you were also taking your time on getting ready.

"I'm sorry, Aizawa asked me to feed his cat, and you know how she is"

Blaming your non-biological dad was the ultimate movement in your pocket, so gen z of you.

"Oh yeah, Denki told me about the rizz in your training class. How did it go?" She asked you while picking her nails looking uninterested but you caught her side glancing you.

You slid your black leather skirt on your legs and shrugged.

"Well, you can see the burn marks on my legs here," you pointed above your left knee. "And here," you pointed your right mid thigh.

"Ugh, did you put something on it? That's gonna leave a nasty scar, " you denied, shaking your head.

She was right, but you didn't have anything to tend the wound.

"Does it hurt?" She asked this time, getting close to your leg.

"Yeah it does, like a motherfucker" you giggled. "But it's okay, it's a one-time thing, Aizawa is coming back and I would never ever ever have to sparr with him again"

There wasn't a pun intended in the mention of the one-time thing, but still, you really hoped that you would never have to be in that situation again.

"Well, at least this time was something professional"

You nodded, putting your boots on.

"Oh, but then, when I went to feed the cat, he was there, waiting outside Aizawa's door"

"He was where?"

Denki, as always, appeared out of nowhere, startling the shit out of you. Thank god he was outside the room this time and not hiding in the closet or under the bed.

"I'm pretty sure you heard me right," you said, putting some gloss on your lips. They stayed quiet, urging you to follow the story. "I finished my chores as a good daughter, and when I opened the door to leave Aizawa's apartment, I stumbled against him"

"What was he doing there?" Jirou asked with a quizzed look on her face.

"I don't know, he didn't tell me," you shrugged and turned around. Both of them were looking at each other with suspicious eyes. "What?," you inquired.

"I mean, not because we are your friends and we have to be delulu for you, but it's weird, don't you think?" Kaminari said and looked straight to Jirou for support.

"In a normal situation, we would be feeding you with improbable situations, but right now, I'm even intrigued with Bakugo and his behavior towards you. He seems like he's always trying to bump into you"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"Wait a minute, we don't know why he was there. We haven't seen each other in a week less talk to each other, he's not trying anything, maybe he was lost or-"

"Yeah, right, lost." Jirou rolled her eyes sarcastically.

"I know the guy better than you two, and I think that Jirou is more on the correct side than you," Kaminari mumbled.

"Thank you!" Jirou stated, hoping off the bed.

"I think you're both wrong. He's not behaving in a way that's unnatural for him, he's just being obnoxious because what I said to him the other day, he's gonna leave me alone in a couple of weeks and move on to the next" you grabbed your jacket from the hanger and pointed to the door to get them going.

"You're basically saying that he's in fact following you." Kaminari dropped one of his heavy hands in your shoulder to keep you steady on the way to the party.

"She just proved my point without even meaning it." Jirou winked at you while you shook your head.

...

The lights inside the house were faint, a dim glow of absence in the middle of a considerable amount of bodies dancing at the rhythm of the music that was blasting through the speakers.

Jirou and Kaminari were the first ones to get lost inside the crowd, and it was perfectly fine for you. You weren't the kind of friends that were attached to the hip all the time. You respected each other spaces and you knew that eventually, you would find them slightly drunk, and you would hang with them again.

The party was situated inside of someone's home. A person you clearly didn't know. At that point, seeing nothing but unfamiliar faces, you started to doubt that Kaminari knew the owner of the house too.

You poured a transparent liquor in a red cup. You knew that you said earlier that you weren't going to drink, but just a drink won't hurt you.

You were looking at everything, trying to spot someone familiar or a thing to do. You wouldn't consider yourself socially awkward. In fact, people always found you easy to talk to, but you didn't make the first move. Between hi's and hey's, you recognized the characteristically two color bush of hair.

Todoroki was for you, an acquaintance. You knew him for a few classes. He always greeted you back when you raised your hand at him saying hi, but there was always something more. He was handsome and quiet, the mysterious pretty boy full of secrets that every girl wants to conquer. You weren't sure if you were one of them or if it was his vibe and mismatched eyes that always lit a little sparkle inside of you, tingling in your stomach with curiosity.

Well, you know what they say about curiosity killing the cat. Your only job was maintaining the cat alive, so for the sake of that...

"Hey," he said when he saw you approaching.

"Hi," you elevated your voice because of the music. He mimicked that he didn't hear you because of the speakers, so you leaned a little to his side. "Sorry, I didn't know you were into this"

The music, the flashing colored lights, the high pitch of voices from people trying to talk to each other. You included.

"It's friday night. What else can I do?" He shrugged hiding himself a little.

He was still a ball of cotton.

After everything that happened after the war, everyone evolved into a new facet of themselves, forming new angles, new emotions, and new personalities trying to rationale the traumas of the past into something positive.

He suffered a lot, and the fact that his suffering was being broadcast and watched by everyone in the world hurt a thousand times more. He lost all his privacy and the right to deal with the sorrow in his own way without staying in the public eye.

"I can relate to that." You sipped your liquor and scrunched your nose a little. "What are you drinking?" You glanced to his cup, but it seemed to only have water inside.

"It's vodka," he swung the cup in his hand and then gulped all the content down his throat in one go.

"It was vodka," you stated, quirking a brow. That was unexpected. And sexy. "Take mine, I don't like plain vodka"

You gave him your cup, and he accepted without second guesses.

"Do you want me to make you a drink?" He said.

It was subtle. There was no hint of flirtatious intentions. He was soft and friendly but unintentionally.

"Do you know how to make drinks?" You were surprised by his confidence. You doubted your capacities daily, so it was uncommon for you seeing this kind of demeanor, let alone in him. You were projecting.

"Yeah, there's this barman who always appears on my for you page"

He didn't laugh when he said the most mundane thing on the world, so you didn't laugh either.

"Sure, show me what you got"

You followed through the people, and in a moment where everyone was stuck like glue with everybody he grabbed you by your wrist to not lose you.

His fingers were warm, so you could bet it was his left hand. You wouldn't lie to yourself. The pads of his fingers carresing your pulse point in a firm, but soft grip made your cheeks turn red, but there was no chill in your spine or butterflies in your stomach. It was pure tenderness.

Once in the kitchen, the sound of the music lowered a little because of the close doors and the panels of ceramics doing their jobs, preventing the outside.

He moved through the kitchen, hesitating every step he took.

"What do you have in mind?" You leaned in the counter, forgetting you were wearing a slutty top that propelled your boobs almost to you neck.

He side eyed you, and after a peak to your neckline, he became more clumsy.

Your boobs were firm. They weren't big, but they weren't small. Your ex-boyfriends or past flings had always said to you that they were perfect. You knew that tits were tits for them, and the mere concept of boobs was attractive for every straight man.

Lifting your hand without making much fuzz over it, you pulled the top covering the skin.

"I-I," he stuttered, opening and closing a few drawers. He cleared his throat, regaining his confidence again, and showed you a couple of lemons. "Kaminari said once that your favorite drink was Cosmopolitans"

You were surprised by two things. The first was Kaminari talking about you. You needed the context of that conversation, the why, the who, and the how. The second thing was him remembering that unimportant fact about someone who didn't even talk to.

"Yeah," you came back from your stunishment.

Completely, contrary to how he moved in the kitchen fetching all the ingredients, he showed that he was a total expert making drinks, or at least he was good pretending to know how to make them. He used his hands graciously to pour all the things into a shaker he found, and then he poured the most delicated drink you ever saw.

You were used to Kaminari and Jirou mixing all the ingredients stirring them with a straw but that was different.

"Here you go"

The glamor ended when the drink touched the red cup, but we are going to skip that detail.

In your mind, you cursed yourself from the past, the one that swore that would never drink again because after sipping just a drop of that elixir, you couldn't help but want more.

"You shouldn't be moaning like that in front of everybody"

His gruff voice coming from behind made all the hairs in the nape of your neck react.

Of course, the only one that could ruin the perfect moment with the perfect drink and the perfect company was nothing more and nothing less than Bakugo Katsuki himself.

Oh, beloved earth, could it please swallow you already?

...

Bakugo meshed well because of his friends. They were talkative enough to supply the lack of social rudeness of him.

After they arrived at the party, he planted himself in a giant group of men playing beer pong. He played a few rounds and then got bored because everyone was wasted, and for him, it was no fun watching them stumble and laughing at the most stupid things.

His friend helped a little with that. They were talking with Sato and Shoji about some game and some fighting techniques that Bakugo was more than pleased to show interest and even help them with their doubts.

They engaged in a conversation that evolved to many topics that he actually enjoyed. He was fully focused on them when a glance of the color of your hair and the characteristically smile of you dragged all his attention out of the group.

You were wearing just a top and a tiny skirt with black boots that made him want to be stomped on.

Bakugo excused himself of the group. His friends were too busy to realize what was happening and why he was so exalted.

You weren't alone.

You were following that half n' half shithead.

He was the opposite of idiot. He knew how to play his game and how to act when he was committed to spying on someone. He observed from the slight opening between the frame and the door how Todoroki reacted to your presence and vice-versa.

He had a great view of your ass in that skirt. You were leaning on the counter with your ass popping up, and he could notice that Todoroki had a nice peak of your tits. He saw you covering yourself quietly after he became the stupidest person of all times acting distracted and awkward.

"Fucking icyhot," he thought.

Bakugo needed to do something quick, and for one moment, his lack of reasoning won over his structure and square shaped mind.

After that one sentence that drew your attention completely, he saw the change in your posture, the way your smile faded, and how suddenly all your muscles were rigid against every part of your skin that you were showing because of your outfit choice.

He felt intrigued because of the sudden change of your demeanor in response to his presence, and he also felt satisfied with that.

"Oh dear," you sighed, turning around to face him. He never showed any particular emotion, but this time, he couldn't hide the little smirk that appeared on his lips.

"I never expected to see you here," he continued.

You were about to answer when you realized that it wasn't directed to you. He was talking to Todoroki, ignoring your presence in front of him.

"Yeah, I'm not a fan of this kinda stuff," Todoroki said impassive.

"I can notice that," he said with superiority and because of the silence he added. "So what's going on in here? Are you having a little party for yourselves?"

Bakugo knew very well how to play the who can be more annoying game. In a matter of competition, he always won. This wasn't an exception.

"Todoroki was making me a drink, and that's all, now if you excuse us -" you said, opening your eyes and directing them to the door so he could read the room.

"Cool, what'cha drinking?" He didn't wait for your answer and grabbed the drink that you left in the counter taking a giant sip.

The tension in the room was palpable, and you were dying of embarrassment. The booze in your system was not the sufficient amount to get you through what was happening. You wanted to die.

"That's a little too acid for me, but it's good, sure you did a great job"

The way he was saying things was taking you to the verge of lightning him up with your quirk. You looked at Todoroki. He was more than used to weird interactions, but he was looking at Bakugo in a way you couldn't decipher.

"I have an early training at my dad's agency tomorrow, I have to go." Todoroki voice was plain, but when he looked at you, you could see the pity in his eyes. "Maybe next time"

Your entire body was saying sorry, but the words never got to your mouth. You only nodded. He was a good guy and someone that you were actually interested in getting to know, but there was the other bastard ruining everything again.

Both of you saw Todoroki leaving the kitchen, and if someone was looking at the scene from outside, they could've seen how Bakugo puffed out his chest and how the pure rage invaded your body.

"Look what you just did!" You smacked his bicep, and he smirked wider, making you regret smacking him so lightly.

"What? He was totally shitting on himself with you here. I saved his ass. " he pointed towards the door that was still moving with the tandem of Todoroki storming out. "I bet he wouldn't have made it to the second base with you"

"Jeez, that's for me to decide," you whined like a little girl.

"I just did what I had to do"

"Oh my god, what's gotten into you lately?" The bravery made only by the alcohol in your system took control of yourself. "You've been following me and riling me up just for the fun of it. It's been a fucking week I thought that what happened between you and me was more than over, what do you want from me?"

Just as the booze took over your system, Bakugo had his own little thing commanding his decisions. He wasn't sure of what it was.

"I want us to be friends"

You were taken by surprise.

He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't do friends, he didn't need a friend, he had enough but you, what was the deal with you? He found exhausting the feeling of you feeling repulsed by him, the avoidance game that you played very well.

Damn he felt intrigued by your lack of excitement when it came to him. Excitement? The euphoria that tagged along with having the experience with him, people talked about his stamina in bed very often, and that was the clear answer in his head. Was he good enough? Yeah, he was, but it seemed that he wasn't enough for you.

He always knew that his attitude was bad and people loathed him because of it, and it was alright for him. He could definitely still live knowing that. It made sense, at least, hating him for something bad like his demeanor...but sex? He thought he was one of the dudes that the girls wanted more of, the type of guy that the girls will speak of with their friends, the type of guy that would be top tier in a chick's list, well, that really happened before, many times, but what was the problem with you? Why did everyone else he sleep with do that but not you?

He didn't expect the sudden feelings that came along with the concept of you.

Rage. He remained calm in the most stressful situations, but you, with the snap of your fingers and your smart mouth, did everything to put his world upside down, and that wasn't fair for him.

Jealousy. Seeing you flirting, talking with other people when the number of times he had ever spoken to you were almost close to zero than to ten.

Even dependency. He wanted to be close to you so much.

And...confusion, why? why was he feeling so out of control out of nothing?

That's how it felt being pussy whipped?

"Friends?" You snapped him out of his senses.

"Yeah, friends is a word that means -"

"I know what friends are, you stupid asshole." You rolled your eyes at him who was still standing there with superiority after destroying your moment with Todoroki.

"So?" He urged. He was calm even when his mind was racing at the possibility of you saying no.

"What's in for you?" You were suspicious. You knew very well the closed circle of friends he had, only four at best.

"Nothing, I found you not a total waste of space," he said nonchalantly. If you were expecting him to shower you with compliments, you were wrong.

You knew how he was. Always believing he was the best, that his position in the world was above the others, how he called 'extras' the people that were surrounding him but not fulfilling his expectations or even near his expectations, well, if he had one because most of the time people weren't worth his time.

You were exactly the opposite of him. You never had the need to test people out. You never had the need to prove yourself against others. You lived your life day by day, almost unnoticed. You needed to be smarter than him.

"Fine," you conceded. "But, there's one condition"

He scoffed, clearly enjoying and making fun of you for thinking you had the position on making conditions.

"We are not fucking again"

You drew the line.

You've had your friends with benefits before because you knew them. Bakugo was a completely different scenario for you.

He wouldn't lie. He, in his men mind, thought that maybe offering his friendship to you would be the easiest way to get inside your panties. You were not just a pretty face. You had brains.

"Sure, you don't see me fucking with raccoon eyes" he rolled his eyes pretending to be offended.

"Then we have a deal." You smiled tensely at him. He extended his hand for you to take it. "That's how you normally make friends? Like you are selling something?"

"Shake the damn hand"

He used the opportunity of you closing your hand in his to pull you closer to him, stumbling against his broad chest.

You looked at him squirming your eyes, waiting patiently for the moment he decided to fuck everything up. He looked closely at your face, the smuged marks of your eyeliner under the corner of your eyes, the way your lashes curled up and marked more the shape of your eye. He was perplexed by your beauty.

"You left some hair on my pillow, " he said with his voice hoarse, tugging a string of your hair behind your ear.

"We said friends, didn't we?" You smacked his hand far away from near you and he smirked.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "To be honest, I don't know how long this is going to last"

"What do you mean?" You asked, taking the remaining amount of drink in your cup.

"Don't get me wrong. Im a man of my word, but I don't know if you would be able to keep up with our promise"

You laughed at him. You've seen the man naked. You had him on top of you. You didn't need anything from him.

If he wanted a challenge, you would be more than happy to comply.

"Yeah, of course," you scoffed, "I have so little control of myself that I won't be able to keep my hands to myself."

The tone in your sarcasm was rich. He found it amusing.

"Laugh all you want, but I'm not going to be the one suffering because of this dumb decision of keeping us as only friends"

The seriousness on his voice sent a chill up and down through your spine.

"You are so full of yourself." You laughed again, but this time, it was a nervous laugh.

He put his hands up in redemption while walking backward toward the door and then left you all alone in the kitchen with your thoughts.

Was he drunk, too?

He was, only ten minutes after you accepted on being his friend, in fact, suffering because of your quick answer and condition to not mess with each other. He needed strategy, thinking logically to make you make the first move with him.

He didn't know what was the thing responsible for him being so stubborn when it came to you. He didn't know if it was like those occasions when you became obsessed with the things that were out of your reach. The negative of you about being even near him again. He didn't understand a thing about what was going on. But he did know that he was Bakugo Katsuki, and when he had something - someone in this case - in mind, he didn't give up until he had it in his hands.

(Not proofread yet)

End note: I'm working late cause I'm a writer. I tried to make it longer because I made you wait a week for it, so enjoy! Todoroki making us our favorite drink? We know that since he discovered youtube shorts and reels (not tiktok because he is half boomer and socially awkward) he's been stuck with watching short videos every day, cocktail videos and house projects are his favorite, I have no doubt about that.

A penny for your thoughts about this (not really but express yourself)

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[samthestrangerthingsfan]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.

AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3

“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”

Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”

You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.

Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”

You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.

“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”

He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.

So fucking beautiful.

“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”

Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"

It's all I want. You think.

"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.

You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."

That's all I want. He thinks.

Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"

He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.

and it'll crush him.

The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."

"So?" He asks.

"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."

It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’

The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.

So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.

Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.

"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.

Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.

You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."

“Stop that.” He seethed.

It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.

Never with you.

Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.

"What--"

He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.

“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”

“Eddie…”

“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”

You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.

Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.

It’s overwhelming.

You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?

His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.

Fuck it.

“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.

You exhale his name, “Eddie,”

“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”

Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?

Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”

He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”

Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.

“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”

With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.

“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”

“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”

Warm warm warm.

It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.

Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.

There’s no one but you.

You’re everything.

I love you, please, let me love you.

Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.

“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.

Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”

“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”

He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”

Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"

He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.

"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."

You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."

Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.

"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.

Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"

A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.

You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."

You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"

You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."

Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."

"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."

He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.

"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."

"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.

You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.

"God, yes."

He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.

"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."

Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"

He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.

Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.

"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”

The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.

“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.

He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”

You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”

Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.

“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.

“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.

The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.

Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.

Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”

You’re both breathing heavy.

Now it’s his turn.

Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.

When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.

God damn...he's fucking huge.

"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"

Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.

"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."

"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.

You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.

"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.

His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"

You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.

"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.

Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.

Such a good girl.

Taking me so well.

My pretty girl.

Mine.

Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.

"Eddie, fuck, I--"

"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."

His words are like a spell.

You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.

"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"

You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."

"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.

He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.

"Hi." He says quietly.

You giggle softly, "Hi."

"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."

You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"

"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.

Nothing.

You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."

Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"

You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."

He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.

Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."

Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."

[tofupixel]

ive been thinking about recent events some more and i want to talk about how to protect yourself from AI!

(mine on the left vs the ai copy 🤢)

although it doesn't really threaten my position, i still think it's important to fight it as much as possible, because it may still threaten our friends and peers' jobs. and it definitely impacts the confidence new artists have in trying out art and sticking with it.

anyyway, it's no surprise i've been glazing my art for some time now, but unfortunately clean versions of my work are still floating around the internet/pinterest from way before (which is what they used for the AI copy!!) i'm past the point of caring about any theft/reproduction otherwise i would be very bothered all the time!!

but i just wanted to note that glazing DOES work to stop img2img copying like what happened to me with this piece:

so it's worth using. and as a pixel artist, even the clean one is still imperfect for a non-pixel-art model- it can't really understand how to interpret the clusters.

as for pixel art models, my friend @ilta222 is writing up a guide for how to protect against that specifically. please follow her!

yes, good pixel-art AI models do exist and are tricker to spot, but they're really not that pervasive at all, and you shouldn't worry too much.

anyway all this is really not something to worry about, but do protect yourself if you're able, and if someone copies you it's not a big deal. try not to let it get to you.

that dudes posts only get 2 notes unless its 100 people roasting him, so who gives a shit really? its no threat to us lol, they stay irrelevant x

btw im not even sure that those mass-ai accounts are even people. im pretty sure they are just automated bots, they will give up soon once they realize its not worth the running power. nobogy GAF

bye bye!! <3