#i’m the friend who makes the other friends do stupid shit. i like that about me. on buses i see tattoo parlours and jump and go WE SHOULD

[poetic-vulgarity]

ᎮᎥᏖᎩ ᎮᏗᏒᏖᎩ - Kim Minjeong x Reader

Word count: ~5K

Prompt: When Minjeong transferred to an elite school, she didn't expect to catch the attention of Y/N, the golden girl. Then again, she also didn't expect Y/N to be the root of all her misery.

Tags: slow burn; angst; drama; high school! AU; richgirl!Y/N; happy ending (?)

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Ask any student out there how they feel about school, and you'll get the same answer.

It's shit.

There was no way around it, especially not for someone like Minjeong.

Shy, quiet, reserved.

She was a walking billboard that practically screamed "bully me."

And bullied she was. Ever since high school began, she'd been their favorite target. They scrawled insults on her desk, threw food at her, and even stuffed her into a locker once.

Minjeong thought it was just the way life worked. Some people were born unlucky.

Then Taeyu came along. Messy, reckless, the kind of girl who could (and would) fight anyone. For reasons Minjeong never fully understood, Taeyu liked her. And the bullying stopped.

They became best friends. Two years passed, and things weren't perfect, but Minjeong started to believe she could survive.

She wished Taeyu was there now.

If she had Taeyu by her side, all the stupid kids wouldn't be staring at her as she made her way through the doors of her new school. 

The towering entrance of Elite Open School Korea loomed before her. The glossy floors, the spotless hallways, the sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows—it was the kind of school where the rich ate up success like it was their birthright.

Minjeong didn’t belong there.

But she didn’t need to belong. She just needed to graduate. The full scholarship had been her ticket there, and she wasn’t planning to waste it. Screw fitting in. She’d keep her head down, study hard, and get the diploma.

Still, as she stepped inside, her confidence wavered. The air was heavy and she could feel the weight of all the judgmental eyes on her. She held her bag tighter and pulled out her crumpled schedule, her eyebrows knitting together as she tried to make sense of it.

The school was massive. Minjeong had no idea where to start.

"You’re with me."

Startled, Minjeong looked up and found herself face-to-face with a stunning girl who radiated confidence.

"I’m Jimin, student president. I’m supposed to take you to your class," the girl said, her tone light and warm.

Relief washed over Minjeong. She nodded, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Jimin didn’t wait for a response before turning and heading down the hallway, her polished shoes clicking softly against the floor.

Minjeong hurried to follow, her school bag thumping awkwardly against her back. "I'm Minjeong." 

Jimin looked over her shoulder, a few loose strands of hair brushing her face as she smiled. "I know who you are; I was the one who made your schedule." Jimin replied with a soft chuckle. "Had to fit you and the other new students into the system."

Minjeong blinked, processing her words. "That... explains a lot, actually."

Her schedule was a mess: classes from 7 a.m. to 4 p.m., a long break, and then another class that ran until 10 p.m. She wasn’t sure if it was legal to keep students in school that long but they were all rich there. Who cared if they were breaking rules?

Jimin grimaced. "Yeah, sorry about that. In my defense, though, you signed up for a lot of extracurriculars."

Minjeong’s lips twitched into a small smile. "Don’t apologize. It’s fine."

"It’ll be cool; we have a few classes together," Jimin added with a grin.

When they reached the classroom, Jimin stopped and turned to her. "Here we are. All your classes today are on this floor, so you shouldn't get too lost. But if you do, text me. My number's on the schedule I sent you."

Minjeong nodded, her cheeks flushing faintly. "Thank you, Jimin."

"Of course. Have a good first day, okay?" With a wave, Jimin disappeared down the hall, leaving Minjeong standing at the door, alone.

It wasn’t as bad as she’d feared.

Sure, a few students glanced her way as she walked in, their gazes sharp and appraising. Most of them didn’t bother hiding their curiosity—or their judgment. The guys wore designer shoes and watches, while the girls carried handbags that probably cost more than her family’s car.

Minjeong ignored them and scanned the room for a seat. She spotted one near the back and made her way over.

"That seat’s taken."

The voice was cold and cutting, and Minjeong froze mid-sit.

The girl who spoke was staring at her, eyes narrowed, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Minjeong swallowed and stood up, looking around for another desk. She wasn’t there to make a scene.

"That one’s taken too," the girl said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

"Why don’t you show her to her seat, Lee?"

The new voice came from the front of the room. Minjeong turned and saw another girl leaning back lazily in her chair.

She was stunning, easily the prettiest girl in the room, with an air of casual arrogance that made her seem untouchable. Her uniform was pristine, not a single hair out of place, and her expression was unreadable.

Lee, the first girl, faltered. "I—uh..."

"Go on," the pretty girl said, her tone light but commanding. "Since every seat is taken, show her one that isn’t."

Lee clenched her jaw but got up with a huff, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder. "Fine. Follow me."

Minjeong glanced at the pretty girl again before trailing behind Lee, her head bowed.

"This one," Lee said, motioning to an empty desk.

"No," the other girl called out, her voice calm. "Not that one. She won’t be able to see the board properly."

Minjeong’s grip on her bag tightened. The room felt suffocating, every set of eyes burning into her as Lee led her to another seat.

"Here?"

"Still not good," the girl said, her tone almost playful.

Minjeong clenched her jaw, frustrated at the situation. This was all a game, and she was the entertainment.

Finally, the pretty girl tilted her head. "Tell you what. She’ll just take your seat, Lee."

Lee stiffened but didn’t argue. Her eyes flashed with anger as she grabbed her bag and stomped off.

Minjeong hesitated. She didn’t want to take Lee’s spot, didn’t want to make things worse. But when the girl raised an eyebrow and her eyes darted from her to her new assigned seat, Minjeong sighed and sat down.

She kept her head down, rummaging through her pencil case, her eyes fixed on the desk in front of her.

An awkward silence loomed over the classroom, broken only by the sound of students chatting and the occasional burst of laughter.

Minjeong’s eyes shifted to Lee, noticing the way she kept a sharp eye on her former seat. A part of her felt bad for taking it, but it was already done.

She took out her notebook, pen, and highlighter from her bag and placed them on the desk. Her hands went up to brush her short hair back behind her ears.

Minjeong’s eyes darted up to the front, looking for the teacher. Instead, she noticed the pretty girl from before standing in front of her.

Minjeong tilted her head up, keeping her shock and awkwardness from showing on her face. The girl was stunning—her features soft, her lashes long, and her lips plump.

The girl gave her a small smile. "The view okay?"

Minjeong’s head spun at the words. Her cheeks instantly flared up with embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to stare. She didn’t even realize she was staring in the first place.

"Sorry," she responded hastily. Her eyes darted around the room, desperate to look anywhere but at the stranger.

The girl chuckled lightly. "I meant the board."

"Oh."

Minjeong felt like her soul left her body out of sheer embarrassment. She couldn’t stop staring at the stranger earlier, and now she’d somehow made it worse for herself.

"Yes, it’s a great view," she mumbled, her voice small. She forced a smile, hoping to salvage the situation.

Minjeong tried to focus elsewhere, her eyes shifting to the window and the students outside, chatting with their friends and enjoying lunch—blissfully unaware of her predicament.

The girl smiled wider, clearly amused.

She extended her hand, drawing it towards Minjeong. "I’m Y/N."

Minjeong hesitated for a moment before reaching out her own hand to shake Y/N’s. "Minjeong," she replied, the handshake lasting a beat longer than necessary before she quickly pulled away.

Y/N was… a lot. Minjeong wasn’t sure what her intentions were. Was she just messing with her, or did she genuinely want to be friends?

"Pleasure to meet you," Y/N said with a nod.

Minjeong blinked. What high schooler said "pleasure to meet you"?

"You too," she muttered, her voice barely audible.

A tense silence stretched between them as the two of them stared at each other. Minjeong wanted to look away, to dig into her bag for something to distract herself, but her eyes kept finding their way back to Y/N.

"Welcome to the school. I’m sure you’ll fit in well." With that final comment, Y/N turned on her heel and walked back to her seat.

Minjeong let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Y/N was intimidating. She was too pretty and confident for her own good, and Minjeong didn’t know what to make of her.

All she wanted was to get through the day without any more trouble.

And, for the most part, she did.

During lunch hour, Minjeong hid in the library. Her other classes went by without much ruckus.

Throughout her first week, she realized that she shared a lot of classes with Y/N. She saw the popular girl almost every day. Correction: she noticed the small smiles Y/N sent her between classes—almost every day.

It was… weird.

Y/N had a cool friend group and a perfect reputation around the school. She had no reason to even notice Minjeong.

“You need to leave the newbie alone. Her friends died. Have a little compassion.”

Y/N turned to glare at Yeonjun. It was Friday, and the group was eating lunch together. Since Monday, Y/N hadn’t seen Minjeong set foot in the cafeteria.

“You could be a bit more respectful about it, no?”

Yeonjun pouted dramatically. “Chill, I was joking.”

“Our Y/N is protective over the newbie,” Aeri teased, nudging Y/N’s side playfully, trying to get a reaction out of her.

“Why would I be protective over anyone?” Y/N huffed, picking at her food as if it were playdough. Her eyes lingered on the unopened sandwich she’d bought that morning.

“Well, you keep looking for her,” Chaewon pointed out, raising an eyebrow as she sat down beside Yeonjun with a knowing smile. “In class and now here.”

Y/N felt cornered. She usually didn’t show this much interest in anyone, and her friends had noticed. It was irritating.

Before she could mutter an excuse for her behavior, her phone rang. Her friends immediately knew who was calling by the look on her face.

“I’ll see you guys later.” She grabbed her belongings and stood up, phone already raised to her ear. “Yes, Dad?”

The call only lasted a minute or two, but it gave Y/N the perfect excuse to slip away. She wandered into the library, her curious eyes scanning the room for one person in particular.

“Lunch is important, you know?”

Minjeong jumped at the sudden voice, her wide eyes snapping up to see Y/N standing in front of her, hands on her hips.

“Are you stalking me?” The words slipped from Minjeong’s mouth before she could stop herself.

Her heart pounded, anxiety clawing at her throat. She had no idea why Y/N was taking an interest in her—why she kept showing up, insisting on toying with her.

Y/N was surprised, to say the least.

Minjeong had some bite. It wasn’t what Y/N expected from the shy girl she’d met on the first day.

“I guess,” Y/N said with a soft hum, casually pulling a chair out and sitting beside her. She reached into her bag, pulling out the sandwich she hadn’t eaten earlier, and handed it to Minjeong. “Eat.”

Minjeong stared at the sandwich, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I already ate,” she said flatly, not reaching for it.

Y/N’s eyes flicked down to Minjeong’s half-open bag. An apple and a small carton of orange juice sat inside—it was all Minjeong ever brought, and she usually saved it for her late 10 PM class.

“No, you haven’t.”

Minjeong’s shoulders slumped slightly. Y/N was far more observant than she had anticipated.

Minjeong looked down at the sandwich again, conflicted. She wasn’t a fan of being told what to do, but Y/N had clearly gone out of her way to give it to her. Refusing would make her feel bad.

Slowly, she reached out and took the sandwich, giving a small nod.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” Y/N said casually.

It didn’t take long for Minjeong to finish it.

“So, what are you reading?” Y/N was usually good at making conversation, but with Minjeong, she couldn’t help feeling a little nervous.

Minjeong blinked, snapping out of her food-induced daze. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she finished the sandwich. Now that it was gone, her body slumped back in the chair, heavy with fatigue.

Her gaze shifted to the half-read book on the table, her fingers brushing over the cover. She avoided looking at Y/N, knowing how easily she got flustered.

“A book,” she responded plainly, hoping Y/N would get the hint.

Y/N nodded, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Very informative.”

Minjeong sighed, unable to come up with a retort. The silence between them grew, awkward and heavy. She wasn’t used to this—having someone like Y/N hover around her. They were opposites in almost every way, and Minjeong couldn’t fathom why Y/N was even there.

Her eyes lifted briefly from the book, just to check if Y/N was still looking. Their gazes met, and Minjeong’s breath caught. Her cheeks burned, and she quickly looked away quickly.

Y/N cleared her throat, the confidence in her voice softening. She fiddled with her fingers, her usual ease replaced with hesitation. “I’m... sorry about what happened. At your last school.”

Minjeong froze, her eyes widening. A lump formed in her throat as she tried to think of something to say.

She hadn’t expected an apology—least of all from Y/N. But even if she had, she wouldn’t have known how to respond.

Her body tensed, her knee bouncing beneath the table. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy,” Y/N continued, her voice gentle. “Especially with all the idiots making fun of it.”

‘Cancer school.’

The cruel nickname flashed through Minjeong’s mind.

It wasn’t far from the truth.

Several students had suddenly passed away at her old school and it didn't take long for investigators to find out that the building materials used for the school were highly toxic—cancerous, in fact. Minjeong was one of the lucky ones, spared from any trouble. She had survived unscathed, physically at least, and had been granted a scholarship to transfer elsewhere—a quiet bribe to keep her mouth shut. 

Taeyu hadn’t been so lucky.

Minjeong’s hands trembled as the memories clawed their way to the surface. She had buried them so deeply, refusing to confront them, but they always left a bitter taste when they resurfaced.

She swallowed hard, her eyes darting around the library. Despite knowing Y/N’s words came from a place of kindness, Minjeong felt a pang of irritation.

“Thank you.” Her voice was hollow, mouth dry. She wanted to be anywhere but there. Her cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment, emotions she couldn’t quite control.

She stuffed her jacket into her bag, voice shaky as she muttered, “I appreciate it.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, alarm flashing across her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep—”

“Save it.” Minjeong snapped, cutting her off. She didn’t meet Y/N’s gaze as she shoved her things into her bag and walked away.

She wasn’t sure who she was angry at—Y/N, for bringing it up, or herself, for not being able to let it go.

The wound still felt raw. She wasn’t ready to face it, and all she wanted was to forget.

But after a few days, the sting of her reaction dulled and guilt creped in. 

Y/N had only been trying to be kind, and Minjeong had been rude.

After debating with herself for days, Minjeong decided to swallow her pride and apologise. 

Before one of their shared classes, Minjeong watched as Y/N walked into the room, making her way to her usual seat.

Now or never.

Her heart pounded as she stood, each step toward Y/N feeling heavier than the last. Minjeong didn’t want to be there, she didn’t want to apologize. Admitting she felt bad was almost worse than snapping in the first place.

But the guilt wouldn’t leave her alone, and she knew it wouldn’t until she said something.

“Y/N?”

Y/N looked up from her notebook, her face lighting up when she saw Minjeong. “There you are,” she said, rummaging through her bag. She pulled out a neatly wrapped sandwich—the same kind she’d given Minjeong in the library. “I’ve been eating these all week, and I hate cheese.”

Without hesitation, Y/N extended the sandwich toward Minjeong.

Minjeong stared at it, swallowing hard. She didn’t need pity or charity. That wasn’t why she’d come over.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you the other day,” she said, ignoring the food.

Y/N’s eyes softened, her expression gentle.

Minjeong forced herself to turn away, eager to retreat to her seat. Her conscience was clear now, and she didn’t owe Y/N anything more.

But before she could take another step, a hand caught her wrist.

Y/N’s touch was firm yet delicate, her grip just enough to stop Minjeong without making her feel trapped.

Minjeong turned slowly, pulse quickening as her eyes met Y/N’s.

Y/N smiled, her voice warm and sincere. “I’m the charity act here, not you.” She nodded toward the sandwich still in her hand. “I genuinely hate these sandwiches.”

Minjeong froze for a second... was she that easy to read?

"Why do you keep buying them then?" Minjeong asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Y/N shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm allergic to salmon, and they like to serve it at the cafeteria, so I bring it just in case."

A little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

But Minjeong was insistent, "I don't see how that's my problem."

"It's your problem because I want to get to know you," Y/N admitted without hesitation. "And the sandwich was just the perfect excuse for it."

Minjeong wanted to ask why Y/N didn't just buy something she actually liked, but she had a feeling Y/N would have an excuse for that too.

So, she sighed and finally took the food, giving a small nod.

"You're eating this if I ever see salmon being served at the cafeteria," Minjeong added.

Y/N smiled, her eyes lingering on Minjeong. "Deal."

Minjeong could feel her face heating up at how casually Y/N agreed to her request.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Even though she was still uncomfortable with how Y/N was so interested in her, she couldn’t deny that she was beginning to understand why everyone talked about her.

Y/N was kind, sweet, and charming. It was almost impossible to resist her, but Minjeong knew she had to keep her distance.

She kept her distance.

For a few hours.

Later that day, when Y/N asked her to go out for coffee, Minjeong found herself accepting the offer.

Just like she accepted Y/N’s offer to give her her number a few days later.

Minjeong had no control over it. She was just pulled in.

For a while, she tried to fight it, but in the end, she couldn’t.

It felt nice to be liked. Y/N would take her out for lunch and dinner whenever Minjeong was free, always doing whatever it took to make her feel special.

Minjeong hated how addictive it was, getting attention from someone like Y/N. It made it that much harder to ignore her growing attraction.

"We could go to your house, if you'd like?" Y/N asked, leaning against Minjeong’s desk, her eyes carefully gauging Minjeong’s reaction.

They had a group project to do, and thankfully, the teacher let them choose their own partners.

Minjeong shrugged, her eyes drawn to her notebook as she finished her exercise. "I don't know, honestly."

Y/N nodded, her eyes intense. "My house?"

Minjeong paused for a moment to consider the proposition. They’d gone out together before, hung out during breaks, and after school. But being in Y/N’s house felt somehow more personal.

She nodded slowly, “Yeah, sure.”

Y/N's eyes brightened up as a smile took over her face.

It still felt like a double-edged sword. Like Minjeong had a price to pay to be hanging out with Y/N.

"Cool, I'll wait for you by your locker at the end of the day."

Y/N started to walk away, but Minjeong reached out for her hand. "I only finish classes at 10 today."

They had been hanging out four two months by then, Y/N knew Minjeong's schedule by heart.

Y/N couldn’t stop herself. Before she knew what she was doing, she reached out and brushed a strand of Minjeong's hair behind her ear. "Don't worry about it."

By the time she reached her table, Y/N had already cursed herself out at least twenty times.

She needed to get a hold of herself.

Still, she couldn't help the excitement that took over her body. She was getting there. Slowly but surely, she was winning over Minjeong.

Y/N's classes ended at 5 PM that day, so she hung out around school while she waited. She went to the library, finished her homework, and even started on the group project. Who knows? Maybe if Minjeong saw that the project was well advanced, she'd agree to watch a movie. Or just talk.

By the time 10 PM came around, Y/N was wrapped up in her long coat, hands stuck in her pockets as she waited for Minjeong.

Minjeong arrived at 10:10, accompanied by a figure that had Y/N freezing up.

Jimin.

The student council president.

Her ex-girlfriend.

An ex-girlfriend that also seemed surprised at seeing Y/N.

"Oh, hi." Jimin tried to smile, turning to Minjeong with a gulp. "You didn't tell me your friend was her."

Minjeong stood there, hands in her hoodie pocket as she looked between Y/N and Jimin in confusion. "You two know each other?"

Jimin and Y/N's history was complicated, and Y/N hated thinking or talking about it. But it happened. She was her first love.

"Yeah," Jimin responded, her eyes glued on Y/N. "We were toge-"

"-It's a small school." Y/N barely looked back at Jimin. "Should we get going? It's a little late already."

Minjeong wasn't oblivious to the way Jimin and Y/N looked at each other. The air was thick with tension, and Y/N seemed oddly uncomfortable the whole time, her body language closed off.

Something was definitely going on, Minjeong couldn’t shake that feeling all the way to Y/N's house.

Once they reached their destination, Minjeong looked around curiously. Y/N didn’t mention that she was well off, but it was almost expected of her.

Popular girl at an elite school.

Minjeong wasn't surprised to be led to a mansion in Gangnam-gu.

It was lavish and spacious. Minjeong felt like she had to pay a tax just to look at the furniture.

"Your parents already sleeping?"

Y/N shook her head, leading the way upstairs to her room.

"My parents live in Dobong. I live with a few employees."

"Oh," Minjeong was surprised, but it seemed normal for Y/N. Was that a normal thing for rich people? "Why is that?"

Minjeong caught the way Y/N's shoulders tensed up for just a second. "For work."

She decided to not touch the subject again as they finally arrived at Y/N's room.

It was a tidy space. The bedroom was nice, cozy, and chic. Minjeong couldn’t help but wonder if it was even a room made for a teenager, though. It looked like the rooms Minjeong had seen at IKEA.

"I didn't know you were friends with Jimin," Y/N let out quietly, taking off her blazer and loosening her tie. She looked at Minjeong with soft but darker eyes than usual.

Minjeong was caught off guard, to say the least.

Her eyes followed Y/N's figure—she had never seen her without the blazer.

Y/N undid the top of her button-up shirt, and suddenly, Minjeong felt the need to look away.

"I- yeah. I eat and have a few classes with her sometimes. Met her on my first day at school."

Y/N nodded slowly, eyes following Minjeong as the short-haired girl looked around her room. 

She sat on her bed almost unmoving, back tensely upright. "Do you like her?"

Minjeong blinked at the question, her brain processing the words.

Did she like Jimin? She supposed she did. The other girl was nice and always helpful, plus she didn’t tease Minjeong about her past either.

She wasn't sure what prompted Y/N to ask, but Minjeong answered honestly.

"Yeah, she's nice. Why?"

"Nice in a way that makes you want to date her?"

The question had Minjeong's head snapping to Y/N, eyes wide.

"I- uh-" Minjeong swallowed hard, her cheeks heating up at the insinuation.

"We're just friends," she blurted out. "Why do you ask?"

Y/N let out a hum, eyes fixed on Minjeong, "Because I like you."

Minjeong's breath hitched when Y/N said those words. That was not what she’d been expecting to hear.

Her heart pounded in her ears, so loud it almost drowned out every other sound. She just stood there staring at Y/N, eyes wide.

After a few painfully silent moments, Minjeong found the voice to ask, "You what?"

Y/N looked down at her hands, fingers playing with each other as she gathered her words.

"I know we've only known each other for a few months, but I like you. I was wondering if you'd let me get to know you even better. Maybe get closer?"

"You...you want to date me?"

The words were barely a whisper, the disbelief evident in Minjeong's face and the way she looked at Y/N.

She was torn on what to say. Minjeong didn't want to get her hopes up again, but Y/N made her feel something.

Her body was screaming at her to say yes, but her mind was telling her to refuse.

Things had been awkward with Jimin. Minjeong was sure Y/N was hiding something from her. She was Y/N. No one like Y/N would ever want anything to do with Minjeong. There had to be another reason for all this.

Y/N smiled, "Well, yes, eventually. I'm not very traditional, but I would like to court you first, if you'd let me."

Minjeong's eyes dropped back down to her hands, her mind whirling with a multitude of possible outcomes.

What if it didn't work out? What if things exploded in their face and they couldn't even be friends anymore?

Did it matter?

It was just dating. It wasn't like Minjeong was agreeing to marry Y/N. If things went sideways, they could always break up and go back to being friends.

"I- could you give me a little time to think about it?"

Minjeong inwardly chastised herself as soon as the words escaped her mouth.

She had just rejected the most popular girl in school.

She had just rejected Y/N.

Well, sort of rejected, right?

Things weren't over. Minjeong just needed to think things over.

Y/N smiled as gently as always, "Of course. You have all the time in the world, Minjeong. I don't want to rush anything."

Minjeong felt like she could breathe so much easier after Y/N said that, as if a boulder had been lifted from her chest. She'd half expected Y/N to be mad or angry at her, but she was still smiling softly.

Not that Minjeong would know how to handle Y/N when she was angry. She couldn't even imagine it.

"Thank you," Minjeong whispered, her voice barely audible in Y/N's room but still loud enough to be heard. "I promise to get back to you soon."

It was Y/N's turn to feel her chest lightening up.

Things weren't ruined.

She hadn't ruined anything.

Minjeong just needed her time, and Y/N would give it to her.

She had been patient from the start, why wouldn't she be now?

"I appreciate that," Y/N patted the bed at her side. "Come here, let me show you the ideas I had for our project."

Minjeong didn't hesitate to indeed go sit by Y/N's side.

She still felt a little tense but it didn't take long for her to fully relax again.

After a good two hours of work, Minjeong turned around in Y/N's bed, eyes falling on a framed picture on the bedside table. It was Friday so they had all the time in the world to be lazy. Didn't matter how late it was. 

"You looked cute as a baby, you know?"

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, and she glanced at the direction Minjeong was staring.

There was a picture of her as a toddler, grinning at the camera with a cute and wide smile that showed off the four teeth she had at the time.

"Oh," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper and a soft smile on her face as she looked at the picture. "Did I?"

She was feeling embarrassed that Minjeong was looking at it. "I don't have many pictures with them, so I keep that one there."

Minjeong nodded quietly, her eyes never leaving Y/N's framed picture. She looked a lot different now, but Minjeong supposed that was true for everyone.

"You looked adorable," she added softly, her eyes glued to the toddler in the photo. It was a little strange to think how much had changed in Y/N's life since then, but Minjeong didn't dwell on it much.

"Do you miss them?" She finally asked, tilting her head to the side slightly as her eyes turned to Y/N.

"Sometimes," Y/N shrugged. It's not like they were dead, she just didn't see them a lot. "It gets harder during the holidays. I was close to my mother, but she's been very... involved in my father's work, so yeah."

"That must be hard..." Minjeong sighed, her eyebrows furrowing in thought.

She couldn't fathom the idea of being away from her own parents.

Withdrawing her eyes from the picture frame, Minjeong scooted a little closer to Y/N. "You know," she spoke softly, "You can always come hang out at my house during the holidays."

"I couldn't possibly bother you... or your family," Y/N shook her head, a small smile rising to her face.

The truth was that Y/N didn't really have a family, and as cold and impersonal as her parents were, they had always given her everything she would need or ask for.

She couldn't complain about anything, but at the same time, she couldn't help but wonder sometimes what it would feel like to have a cozy, warm house instead of a huge empty mansion. Not having to eat alone during Christmas morning.

The idea of Y/N spending the holidays with her was a strange one. Minjeong was just starting to get used to the idea of dating. Her heart beat faster at the mere thought of bringing Y/N around her family.

She'd just have to talk to them first. It wouldn't be too hard, her mother had been asking about Y/N ever since Minjeong first brought her up.

But Minjeong didn't want to get ahead of herself. She was still trying to decide how to respond to Y/N's confession.

Still, she did feel good about the idea of having Y/N around.

"Are you kidding me? My parents would love you more than they love me. I can already picture them serving you first and leaving my siblings and I for last."

Y/N rolled her eyes softly, knowing that Minjeong was just teasing her.

"We'll see where things go and maybe I'll drop by to bring your parents a Christmas gift."

Christmas wasn't that far away, but Minjeong hadn't expected Y/N to even think about buying her family anything. She didn't even know them.

"Oh wow, you're getting my parents a gift but not me?"

A teasing smile appeared on Y/N's face, "They're the ones I want to impress."

Minjeong gasped at Y/N's teasing. She playfully hit the other girl, her own teasing smile on her face. "Are you saying my opinion doesn't matter?" she asked in mock hurt.

Minjeong couldn't deny that it did make her happy.

Y/N didn't have to like her family, but she was still going out of her way to do something nice. Minjeong appreciated it a lot, even if Y/N had a tendency to make her flustered.

"I'm saying their opinion matters more."

Minjeong laughed at that, her eyes crinkling up as she did. "I'm sure they'll like you as much as I do," she said sincerely without thinking about the words.

A beat after the words left her mouth, Minjeong froze. "I just mean..." She cleared her throat. "That you're cool and nice."

"Oh..." Y/N pretended to be flattered. "I'm cool and nice. Who would've thought?"

"I didn't realize you could make jokes," Minjeong shot back teasingly.

"Hilarious."

She liked this, the playful back and forth. She felt comfortable, talking about anything and everything with Y/N.

But there was always the hint in the back of her mind, telling her that there was more to it.

So, she decided to get to the end of the story and brought the topic up during lunch with Jimin, only a few days later. 

"So, what really happened between you and Y/N?"

That caught everyone's attention.

Ning was quick to gulp, eyes drawn on Jimin, and Yunjin almost spat her food out.

Minjeong wasn't expecting that reaction. 

Was the question that bad?

She hesitated, turning to Jimin with a look that screamed 'you don't have to answer if you don't want to'. 

After recollecting her thoughts, Jimin cleared her throat and spoke up. "We dated for two years. Broke up four months ago."

"They were like- the IT couple of the school. It was kind of funny." Ning shook her head, eyes soft and sad as she looked down at the table. 

The group missed Y/N, Aeri, and Chaewon. They had separated from each other after the breakup. Sides were taken. Mistakes were made.

Minjeong wasn’t sure what answer she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this.

Two years. That was a long time, longer than she had imagined. And the fact that they’d only broken up four months ago? It seemed...recent.

Minjeong felt her heart tighten as she listened intently to Jimin. She had a lot of questions, and now that the topic was brought up, might as well ask. "Why'd you two break up?"

The curiosity was getting the better of her. Minjeong had no intention whatsoever of being involved in a love triangle drama. That was the last thing she needed to be associated with.

"Well, I realised I just couldn't associate myself with people like her or her family. It was a moral thing." Jimin spoke about it in a light way, but something about her expression told Minjeong she was still grieving her relationship.

Minjeong nodded at the answer, unsure of how to respond. She glanced over at her friends seated around her, her gaze falling back on Jimin with an uneasy smile. "What's wrong with Y/N and her family?"

"You know, I didn't want to be the one telling you this, but I think it's only fair to you." Jimin sighed. She knew Minjeong went to Y/N's house the other day- being honest was the right thing to do. "Y/N's father is the mayor of Seoul. Those rumors about him being in charge of building your last school are true. Him and his family are just doing their very best to bury the scandal since he's going to run for presidency next year."

"My last school?" Minjeong's voice was soft, throat suddenly dry.

The cheaper but toxic materials used to build the school. The deaths of her friends. Taeyu.

That was all because of Y/N's father.

...and Y/N knew.

Y/N knew all along, didn't she?

All the attention.

All the gifts.

The stupid sandwiches Y/N gave her.

Y/N being nice to her when she didn’t really need to.

It all played back in her mind, over and over again.

Minjeong felt like the biggest fool in the world.

What was she?

Some sort of pity project to Y/N? Was she just being made fun of all along?

Her chest tightened painfully, and she felt the overwhelming need to get away.

Minjeong cleared her throat and stood up from her seat, her chair scraping against the floor. “Excuse me,” she said quietly. 

She didn’t wait for a response.

[mint-mumbles]

Gonna use this image any time someone says something low key sexist about Sable (ie "she's showing too much skin" regarding a fucking bathing suit 😭🤦)

I don't hear you complaining about Spirit 😭

[flippedorbit]

i’m gonna be so for real, if things don’t start changing for me in good ways i will be disappearing off the face of the earth

[livvyofthelake]

well basically like raise your hand if you’ve ever been blocked by a close mutual you though you were actually friends with and not just fandom-mates because you expressed an emotion they didn’t like because apparently they only want to interact with people who watch the same media as them and when you didn’t anymore they stopped talking to you and the media you DID have in common they gave up on once they found something more popular and seeing as that thing happened to be your favorite thing you graciously let them have because you believed you were friends and they would treat it with care and love but they didn’t and it made you feel like they didn’t respect you or like you or think of you as a person but rather as a faceless entity who sometimes could make Posts about tv shows you have in common. despite the fact they know what your face looks like because they’ve seen it because you’ve gotten together on zoom and watched movies together like friends do but that doesn’t mean anything i guess if you try to delicately have a conversation about how you feel because they just immediately dismiss you and start talking to you like you’re coworkers in a polite email chain because you said you didn’t like their tv show. which was a fact they already knew but didn’t take seriously because they were apparently never viewing you as a person! or has that only happened to me.

[peapod20001]

Did sleeping help

No </3

[trashbaget]

tell me your failed/embarrassing flirting stories to make me feel better, i’ll go first: today i said “get out of my way” forgot to say “i’m kidding” then immediately said “bye”

[jikigo]

you ever just see a post and just

. 😭

.⬅️🫀⬅️

[sammygender]

i’m sorry i have psychological problems because thinking too hard about tris and four from hit shit YA trilogy divergent still makes me want to sob. even tho i haven’t thought about them in like five years

[okcoolthanks]

Man why is everything fucking terrifying

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[classyrbf]

IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...you and gojo get into a fight after realizing that he’s been hiding something about your relationship the entire time

INFO...gojo x fem!reader, angsty, arguing, breaking up(?), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You slam the door to the penthouse, your heels clicking against the mahogany floors with each step. You toss your purse on the couch, hearing Gojo opening the front door and shutting it quickly. “Baby, please just listen to me.” He pleads, following after you.

“I don’t wanna hear your bullshit excuse, Satoru.” You roll your eyes, plopping down on the edge of the bed to relieve your sore feet of the heels you’ve been wearing all night to your boyfriends opening event he’s been planning for months now.

“I’m not trying to make excuses. Please.” He walks over towards you and toss your heel at him. “Stop throwing shit and just talk to me!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You stand to your feet, glaring daggers at him. “Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? God, you’re a fucking asshole.” You seethe, narrowing your eyes. “I sat there all alone, while you let some woman feel up on you the entire night? Are you out your fucking mind?” You scoff.

“She’s just an old friend, y/n. I swear I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He shakes his head at you, grabbing onto your arms tightly.

“Oh, yeah? So I when I came up and introduced myself as your girlfriend none of your friends were looking at me like I was crazy? I know we’ve been only together for a year, Satoru, but that’s fucking low.” You pull away from him. “They didn’t even know who I was. Then you got miss prissy bitch clearly flirting with you in front of me and you didn’t do a damn thing to stop it!” You brush past him, stomping over towards the bathroom.

“Slow down, y/n! Baby—”

“I’m not your fucking ‘baby’, Satoru.” You gather all of your products from the bathroom, from your makeup and skincare to your clothes and shampoo.

“Stop for just one second.” He spins you around so you’re facing him. “Don’t leave. I swear you’re the only girl for me. I know I fucked up, I know I did. I embarrassed you, made you look stupid and I am so fucking sorry. But please do not leave.” He cups your face gently and his touch feels so inviting, but you can’t forgive him that easily. “I only want you. I only need you.”

You look up at him through your lashes, swallowing thickly as you bite the inside of your cheek. “Should’ve thought about that when you let her kiss your cheek and you smiled at her. Right in front of me. Get the fuck off of me.” You push him, rushing to grab your bag from the closet.

Gojo lets out a tired sigh, following you. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not like this. “I shouldn’t have let her near me.”

“Why was she so comfortable with being that close to you, huh?” You question, furrowing your brows as you turn to look at him. “Now that I think about it. Let me guess, you two were more than just friends.” You stand to your feet, snatching your clothes off the hangers and shoving them into your bag. He looks at you, opening his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. And from the look in his eyes, you already knew the truth. A bitter laugh leaves your lips, shaking your head in disappointment.

“It was before you! Before us! We never dated it was just a small thing between me and her!” He tried to explain. “Baby, I swear! Once I met you, everything changed. I cut her off and focused all my attention on you. You’re the only who has my heart.” He grabbed your wrist only for you to pull away.

“Clearly I ain’t the only who who’s got your dick, though.” You slam the closet door shut, turning your back towards him.

“Don’t say that, y/n. That’s the first time I’ve seen her in years!”

“Yeah? Well all your friends sure know about her. She must’ve been great in bed, Satoru. Me? Well, they looked at me like I was a fucking ghost!” You scoff. “Like I was some delusional bitch who came up to you and said I was your girlfriend!” You throw your hands up in disbelief. “You must take me for fucking joke. It must be written on my forehead or something!”

“I don’t take you for a joke! You’re my goddamn girlfriend. You live with me. You have my initial around your fucking neck! I love you and you know that!” He takes a step towards you.

“Do I know that?” You ask aloud, cocking your head to the side.

“What—of course I love you. What the fuck are you saying?” He looked at you with pure confusion.

“You’re a joke. One of your friends, Shoko, pulled me aside and told me the only reason you got with me is because your little fling ended up getting a boyfriend herself around the time we started dating. You’re a piece of shit.” You revealed the truth to him, watching him stare at you blankly, lost for words. “Think I wouldn’t find out?” You ripped off the necklace with his initial, tossing it at him.

“Yes, I was upset that she got a boyfriend but—”

“So you had feelings for her. And just to cover them up, you got with me as a distraction.” You step closer towards him. “Listen to me, Satoru, don’t ever try and contact me again, keep whatever fucking gifts you bought me and return them, sell them, do whatever because I am done,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

“No, no, no, baby. You can’t leave me. Yea I liked her before, but so fucking what? I was never in love with her, not like I am with you. I was too fucking stupid. I still am! Just give me another chance to fix this. I don’t want us to end this way.” He grabs your packed bag from your hands and tosses it on the bed.

“Let me go, Satoru.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I can’t. You’re everything to me. She’s nothing compared to you.” He sniffles, holding your hands in his. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. And I’m sorry for entertaining the idea that she could even come close to you. She can’t.” His hands cupped your face, his heart pounding in anticipation as he waited to hear any words from you.

You reached up, pulling his hands away from your face. “Bye, Satoru.” You walked past him, grabbing your bag off of the bed. As much as it hurt to leave, you knew you had to respect yourself. Time and space was what you needed to think. With each step out the door, you could hear Gojo’s sobs, something you’ve never heard before in the year you’ve been with him. For the strong, flashily and confident man he is, you never once thought you’d see or him break down. Especially not for you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How’d they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationship…(platonic/romantic)

Dick: he’s insulted.

Gutted.

He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.

‘Do you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?’ He’d say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. ‘If it’s the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and don’t call me dude or bro anymore.’

He’d rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him you’re not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames that’d make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasn’t his name.

He’s go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasn’t. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.

Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She can’t do her abc’s guys it’s a real tragedy.)

Jason: ‘I just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.’ - Jason at some point.

It’s a whole mood killer for him to be honest.

He’s calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that he’s well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit you’ve done together isn’t platonic in any sort of way.

Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasn’t)

Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as ‘just a really good friend’, ‘buddy o’ mine’ or even worse than both of those; ‘chum.’ 💀

When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see who’d call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.

You’ll probs get punished…I’m just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that ‘punishment’ was exactly.

Damian:

As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if that’s even possible.

Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. He’s not your dude or bro, he’s your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.

So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.

‘Until you learn that I am your partner, I won’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.’ He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.

Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.

So it’s bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didn’t, you’d still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.

He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.

He can take a joke but not when it’s aimed at his relationship. He’s well and truly devoted to his relationship -if we’re to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.

[suhkusa]

THE KISS BET.

PAIRING. Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader

SUMMARY. Your friends bet you to kiss Katsuki Bakugou. Fortunately for you, they’re offering you $500 for it. Unfortunately for you, the two of you absolutely hate each other.

CW. third year, angst to fluff, light hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, mature humor, feelings, language

WC. ~2.8k

A/N. enjoy :3

You and your group of friends had a running gig. Bets. 

The group would bet one person to do something, on a scale from normal to outrageous, and that person’s turn wouldn’t end until they complete that bet. Of course, depending on how crazy the bet is, everyone would put in some amount of money. 

The most you’d gotten was $100 total from accepting a date from creep in the business class. Worst date of your life, but Jirou felt bad so she gave you an extra $50. 

As the lot of you gather around the campfire, everyone offers up their money to Mina who had just done her bet to put laxatives in Kirishima’s drink. There were a lot of questions about the morality of it, but you ignored it and gave her a crisp $20. 

“Y/N~ it’s your turn!” Ochako gleed. 

You roll your eyes, “I feel like I just did my other bet, which by the way was shit,” the girls laugh at your words. “I feel like all of you get the easier ones,”

“Easy? I had to kiss Monoma, do you know how hard that was? He knows I’m lesbian so imagine how hard that was for me to convince him,” Yaoyorozu sighs with a palm to her face.

“Oh, whatever,” Mina says with a clap of her hands, “You want a hard one, Y/N?”

“I mean that’s the whole point of paying each other to do bets, they’re supposed to be hard,” 

“Be careful what you wish for,” Mina smirks before standing up and pointing at you. 

“I bet you $100,” your ears perk up.

“-to kiss–,” your eyes widen but listen nonetheless.

“Katsuki Bakugou,” your world falls apart.

“Mina, no,” 

“Y/N, yes,” she jumps up and down, “It’s too late, I already said it,”

All the other girls are hooting and hollering, but you just sit there in silence as you stare at the flames. Are you really going to try this?

As you consider your options the other girls start placing their bet offerings.

“$75 from me,” Tsuyu calls out.

Then from Hagakure, “$50,”

“$150,” from none other than Yaoyorozu. 

“I guess I’ll put in $80,” Jirou smiles at your misery.

“Hmm, I’ll even it out with $45, so $500 flat for you, Y/N,” Ochako smiles.

$500?!? You’d be outright stupid to deny such a big amount of money. But you’d even stupider to think Katsuki Bakugou would kiss you of all people. 

“I think that’s impossible,” you whine as the other girls poke fun at you.

“I guess only time will tell,” Mina grabs your hands and smiles, “Good luck, Y/N,”

—

You can hear the rambunctiousness of your class before you walk in. When you walk through the doors, your eyes scan the class before your eyes lock in on Katsuki Bakugou. You groan with a roll of your eyes before stomping your way towards him. 

“Hey, Katsuki,” you stare down at him, “You want to do me a favor,”

“For you? I rather eat shit,” he grumbles as he meets your gaze.

“You’re a freak,” you already knew this was going to be hard, “Please,”

“Mm, depends, what’s in it for me?” 

“I guess you’ll find out,” you say. “Kiss me,”

It feels like the class goes silent as the two of you continue to just stare at each other. He opens his mouth then closes it. 

“You– The fuck?” His eyes are scattering as the words continue to process through his mind, “What a weirdo, hell no,” then he’s pushing himself out of his seat and making his way to the door.

“You know class starts in 5 minutes right?” you call to him.

“Fuck off,” he grunts as he shuts the door behind him.

Yep, definitely hard. 

—

The next time you bother Bakugou for a kiss is when the two of you are paired up for combat training. Much against his will. 

“Katsuki~” you call out as you dodge another blow from him. “You can’t avoid me forever,”

“Yes-” another explosion, “I can,”

You go on the offense as you continue, “Just a peck, please. I’m a good kisser, I promise,” 

“You’re shit,” he’s grumbling between dodges of your attacks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you send him a wink before getting a hit on him. 

Bakugou groans, about to send another remark, when the training ends with a blow of a whistle.

The two of you meet eyes one last time, “Think it over, kay?” you smile before walking away.

—

Knock, knock. 

You stand at Bakugou’s door.

“Go away, perv,”

“Aw, how did you know it was me? You missed me?”

“I can just tell by the stench,” 

You laugh a little at his words, “Please, let me explain to you and maybe you’ll reconsider,” 

You can hear footsteps, and you smile. When he opens the door he’s adorned in his classic black tank and some sweats.

“You should put some clothes on, perv,” you mock. “Anyways, it was a bet from my friends and there’s $500 on the line, so if you would just–”

“I don’t kiss just anyone, princess,” the nickname causes you to fluster, but you shake it off as he continues, “You gotta earn it,”

He’s got a stupid smirk on his face, and you didn’t even realize it but he’s definitely leaning closer to you. It’s sending butterflies– well maybe more like moths– into your stomach. 

“What the– You’re definitely the pervert. I’m just going to ask to call it off,” you fake gag, “Later, loser,” 

“You’ll be back, nerd,”

You internally groan as you hear him shut the door, ignoring the intense heartbeat in your chest.

—

“No,” Mina says.

“What?! I told you it’s impossible,” you argue, all of your friends on the other side of the argument. 

“No it’s not, he said you had to earn it right?” Mina retorts, “So obviously there’s a way, you’re just stubborn,”

“You’re really not asking me to… You guys are crazy. Please, please, I’ll take anyone else, anything else,” 

“Sorry, Y/N, it’s the rules,” Tsuyu looks at you with pity.

“He hates me and I hate him! That’s all there is to it. It’s not going to happen,”

“Why do you guys even hate each other? It’s our third year, get over it already,” Jirou teases. 

“Because he’s a dick and I refuse to let him walk all over me! I just cursed him out one time for calling me weak. He’s the one who holds grudges because of his fragile, little heart,” 

“You should’ve known he’d hold that against you, but I honestly doubt he hates you because of that,” Mina says. “He probably thought you looked hot,” she laughs.

Heat rushes to the tips of your eyes, “Whatever, all of you are weirdos. But anyways-”

“No, Y/N,” Mina states, end of subject.

“You all just want me to kill myself,” you groan as you sink into the couch. “Whatever, but I’m going to force all of you to double your offering if I actually do this shit,”

The girls cheer. You cry inside. Anything for money, you guess.

—

It seems like the universe heard about the predicament you were in, because it felt like you were suddenly around him more often ever since the bet had been set.

“You know, I don’t want to be on patrol with you either,” you grumble, kicking at rocks as the two of you walk up and down the roads of the dorms.

“Glad we agree,”

Silence washes over you both. 

“Why don’t you want to kiss me? Am I ugly or something?” you ask, but it definitely comes off sadder than you intend.

“Don’t get all insecure because you don’t get a stupid kiss,” he looks the opposite direction of yours, “You know damn well you’re not ugly, so don’t piss me off,” 

He had a strange way of saying stuff.

“Aw, you love me, don’t you?” you tease, poking at his arm.

“Ah you dumbass, pay attention,” you snap back into place with a laugh, “‘M just saying you’re better looking than some of these extras,” 

You don’t know what to say in response to his words. Because they were surprisingly very sweet. 

Realizing he had said too much, he changes the subject. “Let’s go this way,”

You follow him with a nod.

There was definitely a certain type of tension lingering that the two of you walked in near silence for the rest of the patrol. 

You definitely were not repeating back his words in your head over and over again for the rest of the patrol. And Katsuki Bakugou was definitely not turning red because of what he said earlier. Definitely not. 

—

After that patrol, things seemed to sort of shift between the two of you. And to say it was scary was an understatement. 

Conversations wouldn’t always start off with the two of you insulting or cursing each other out. There’d be a hey or hello. If you guys saw each other in passing, he’d greet you with a nod of his head. Him being anything but passive aggressive towards you was terrifying because it was so not him. 

“Y/N,” a familiar voice calls out to you, you groan as you put your pencil down.

“I’m studying, what do you want, Katsuki?” 

“Come with me to the movies after school today,” it’s not really a question, more like a command. 

You put your hands to your mouth in fake(?) excitement, “You’re asking me on a date?! So kind, Katsuki,” 

“It’s not a date, idiot. I’m going with Ei and Denki later, they’re bringing Jirou and Mina. They were teasing me for not bringing anyone, so come,”

“If I don’t?” you muse.

“Be there or be square, nerd,” he doesn’t take your bait, but you can tell he’d prefer it if you go. He walks away before you can respond. 

Well, you guess you have plans later.

;;;

You meet up with the lot of them at the allotted time. The group walks together, and you thank God your friends have a questionable taste in men so you wouldn’t be stuck with some randos. But you also have half a mind to curse them out for leaving you to fend for yourself when you all arrive at the theater. 

They left you with no choice but to sit with Bakugou. Part of you really hates it, but not as much as you hate the rate at which your heart beats. 

For the most part, the two of you just sit there in awkwardness. The other couples indulge in that lovey dovey shit, and it makes you feel out of place. You zone out and get into your head. Was there a motive in asking you to come out here? He could’ve invited like… Midoriya… or Ochako… Or anyone, really. But, you? Does he like you? Or were you his last option to invite? Your head hurts from overthinking.

Your hand rests in your lap, picking at the material of your pants. At least that’s what it was doing. Until it happened. 

From the corner of your eye, you watch as Bakugou slid his hand into yours. His fingers finding a comfortable place between your own. You release a deep breath when you realize you were holding your breath. Is he out of his fucking mind?

Despite your efforts to try and justify how much you absolutely hate it. You didn’t even try to stop him. You didn’t pull away. You didn’t let his hand go. And even as the movie ended, you actually felt sad when he slid his hand away. 

The cool air of the night shocked you a bit when all of you made it outside. 

“We were thinking of grabbing a bite, did you guys want to come?” Mina exclaims. 

“Ooh, that sounds good, are you down, Jirou?”

“Sure, and you guys?” they all look at you.

“I- I have a stomach ache… Butter fucks with my stomach really bad,” the excuse is kind of weak, but still holds up as they all nod in understanding. 

“I can walk you to the dorm,” Bakugou offers, and you don’t really give him a yes or no, he just follows you.

Kirishima and Mina whistle and holler as the two of you part ways with the rest of them. 

Part of you regrets making up some stupid lie to go home. Because this was way more awkward than getting free pizza. 

The two of you are right by each other as you walk in silence towards the dorm. You wait. And wait. Wait for him to bring it up. Why did he do that? Why did he grab your hand? Was it all a front?

Why is he treating you so well?

Even as he drops you off at your room, he says nothing. Just a simple “Goodnight,” before he’s making his way to the elevator.

What an asshole.

—

So you take the initiative. The initiative in ignoring him. You weren’t some casual fling. Fuck the bet, fuck him.

When you saw him making his way towards you, you were quick to get up and rush out of the classroom. When he nodded your directions in passing, it was easy to just walk past and not acknowledge him. Whatever there was between you and him, was gone. Whatever “it” was, exactly. 

But you were okay. You guess. You were down $500 or $1000, but whatever. That game was bullshit anyways. You always got the worst bets. You kind of felt bad that you were the end of it, though. 

It was easy to avoid him. That’s what you thought. At least until one week later, you found yourself cornered by your dorm room with nowhere to go.

“What the fuck is up with you?” he’s angry, you’d be stupid if you thought otherwise.

You cross your arms and avoid his intense gaze, “Whatever do you mean?” 

He’s getting closer, and a tiny, like miniscule, part of you finds angry-him hot. “You know what the hell I mean, you’ve been avoiding me,” 

“Nuh uh,” you retort, still avoiding the subject at hand. “I’ve just been busy, sorry,”

“Like hell, Racoon Eyes said you’ve been in your dorm room everyday, so try again, asshat,”

Fucking Mina.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you poke at his chest, “Now get out of my way before I beat your ass,”

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try,” he’s smiling with mockery.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d like to be touched by me, you little virgin,” you inspect your nails in nonchalance, “Too bad, so sad, now move,”

“No, not until you answer me,” he’s a bit more serious now, you can sense it in his tone. 

You groan, “Fine, not until you answer me, though. Why the fuck did you hold my hand and act like it didn’t happen? Am I like a joke to you?”

He straightens up and his eyes widen. He looks to the side, then back at you.

“You’re fuckin’ smart, why don’t you take a guess?”

“You’re not a baby, why don’t you use your words?” 

You got him there.

“Maybe ‘cuz I like you, or something, idiot,”

You laugh. Laugh. Because he really thought you’d believe a stupid joke like that.

“You’re funny, but seriously, why did–”

A kiss. Katsuki Bakugou has always been known for his speed and his wit. But now you see it more than ever. As he steals a kiss from you. It happens faster than you’re able to even realize you’re leaning into it. 

When the two of you part, it’s tense again. You don’t know if you should say something but he takes that choice from you.

“You think that was funny?” he asks.

“Well- no, but–”

“No buts, that’s that,”

“I didn’t even say I like you back! What if I didn’t-”

“Oh, so you do?” you jump up in realization you fumbled your words. “Good to know, princess,”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying. How was I supposed to know you liked me? You’re such an asshole, you know?”

“Really? Because this asshole just got you some cash,” he laughs referring to the bet, “But y’know, I don’t let just anyone call me Katsuki,”

You grit your teeth before throwing a punch at his arm, “Annoying! Annoying, so annoying,” 

Another hearty laugh escapes from his lips as he pulls you into a hug. You didn’t even know Bakugou gave hugs. But you don’t mind it. 

“You’re such a pervert, I bet you’ve been looking forward to that kiss,” he teases.

“Yeah? Well you’re a pervert for even kissing me in the first place,”

—

YOU: pay up bitches

YOU: i’m talking double btw

[164 new notifications]

You were rich and in love. What more could you ask for?

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[gothamcitycentral]

Dr. Phosphorus is almost contradictory to himself in a way I find notable.

Assuring Nina with, “I know you can do this, kid.” A term of endearment slipping in, fitting an interaction between a once-father and a young woman who’s spent the overwhelming majority of her adult life locked away and isolated in prison.

Perhaps too endearing, as he quickly undercuts it with “Did it sound like I gave a shit?”

When Weasel jeopardizes the mission, he grabs him in anger, yelling, “You stupid rat!”

But he doesn’t actually try to hurt Weasel. He only got burned once he sunk his teeth too deep into Phosphorus.

Then there’s this scene, where this obviously just him joking around, right? Just him being his sardonic self.

But then later, he seems genuinely offended that Flag is angry with him. That Flag should have taken his actions as a favor between ‘friends’. As if he’s actually a little desperate to be liked by the man he was fighting with not that long ago.

(I mean, as a smaller example, his interactions with Nosferata jump from him insulting her to playing freaking ping pong with her)

Then there’s his recurring dynamic with Bride. Despite the ‘I’m a killer who doesn’t care about anything’ idea of himself he pushes, Phosphorus continuously tries to interact with her. Making remarks for her to find amusing, remaking on their bleak situation for her to join in on. It’s like he saw the first person in so long to really acknowledge him in anything close to a meaningful way (“Are you smiling?” “Yes!” “Sarcastically?” “Mm-hm.”) and decided he wasn’t going to let that high just go away.

Even after the mission failed, he tries to push himself as the annoyed, angered man. Angered at Weasel, angered at Nina’s death, angered at their efforts all being for nothing.

But then he’s the only person to comfort Bride in her mourning.

I think these conflicting traits, the outward expression versus the sincerity that slips through, are most well shown during Wonderlust King. Still in the wake of his family’s death (not that it ever ended for him), during his era as a crime boss, he tries to satiate the sadness in himself.

He dances in the Ice Lounge, a display of his power and his wealth for all its attendees to bear.

But then misses dancing with his wife at their wedding, a display of their love for all gathered to behold.

He tries to gain satisfaction through inflicting violence onto others.

But then only misses the love he shared with Parvin.

He tries to fill the hole in his heart with riches.

But it’s meaningless in comparison.

Dr. Phosphorus thought Alex Sartorius died the night he was born, I feel, but despite his own best wishes, he’s still there, the loving man who only wanted to help people he once was.

[whorelaud]

OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (06)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content fluff, suggestive (sorry...) unresolved tension, a slight panic attack (nothing too serious!), confrontation, lil angst?!?!

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 05 ! 06 ¡ 07

rafecameron

WY@ - brent faiyaz 

liked by sarahcameron, ryanontop and 1,982 others

rafecameron Doing shit I really shouldn't do for real 🤷🏼‍♂️

view all comments 

yourusername nice post g ↳ rafecameron Thanks g ↳ yourusername you're welcome homie 💯 ↳ rafecameron I’m not your homie ↳ yourusername alr bro 😎 ↳ rafecameron 🤐 

yoursername rafe cameron is never beating the slut allegations ↳ rafecameron I'll take that as a compliment thank you! Learned from the best 😊 ↳ yourusername Are you slut shaming me right now ↳ rafecameron WHAT NO I’m just saying like you know ahah Ahaha fuck ↳ yourusername yeah right ↳ popeheyward This is gross by the way ↳ yourusername shut up

sarahcameron put that cigarette down little boy ↳ rafecameron Did bug give you the ‘little boy’ virus… ↳ yourusername it's not a Virus. Embrace it 💜 ↳ rafecameron Okay 💜

sarahcameron you forgot the #aimed ↳ rafecameron Shut up Sarah ↳ yourusername LMAO

yourusername watchu know about brent ⁉️ ↳ rafecameron I love Brent ↳ yourusername hmm 🤔 ↳ rafecameron Are you doubting my music taste right now? ↳ yourusername Yes

ryanontop Shii baby you look fine asl 😍 ↳ rafecameron Stawp! 🙊 ↳ jjmaybanks Awh fawk nah

popeheyward Yooo 🫡 liked by rafecameron

user1 Nah who got my dawg posting song lyrics ☠️

user2 Bro’s pussy whipped

user3 who hurt you bae ❤️

user4 may god bless me with your genes ↳ user3 ?? what ↳ user4 im saying iw ant to have his kids 😊

user5 bismallah my body had a reaction to the third slide ❤️

user6 this is fucking insane go fucking kill yourself you fucking manwhore stop fucking posting shit like this ↳ yourusername this is so real you go user6 ↳ user6 thank you 😇 someone needed to say it ↳ rafecameron Uhhh

user7 i told my parents about us

kelc3eee Fit is hard 🔥 ↳ rafecameron Thanks

It’s been three days since you last kissed Rafe, and yet, you still couldn’t get the thought out of your head, reminiscing over the memory each time you strived to distract your mind from it. 

Waking up the next morning was like a punch to your stomach, your hopes of it being a dream instantly destroyed with the harsh reality of kissing Rafe. You ended up practically locking yourself in your room, too afraid Rafe might say something, address the said kiss and stupid mistake of reaching for his face in the first place. 

To your surprise, Rafe did not bring it up, greeting you with a sheepish grin once you joined them downstairs. It puzzled your brain, as it filled with a million questions over why he didn’t make an effort to bring it up. It was slightly disappointing, even if it was a mistake, he had every right to sort out the situation, pull you to the side and remind you how wrong it was to kiss him, knowing well aware that he was forbidden to the touch. 

But he didn’t, and if he did hint it, you definitely chose to look past it, brushing it off everytime you found yourself alone with him, choosing to avoid the situation and feign ignorance to the way your heart would stupidly flutter.  

Now, three days have passed, and things are, well, they’re normal. Your friends were surfing, while you sunbathed on the shore, not in the mood to get yourself wet. Rafe, of course, never left Ryan’s side, messing around with your brother to get him riled up, knowing how mad he easily got. 

Their giggles echoed through the distance, tugging a faint smile on your lips as you admired from afar, squinting your eyes due to the bright sun beaming through your skin, blocking your vision even with the pair of sunglasses you had on. 

Your arms plopped up against the towel beneath you, supporting your body from giving out, even after maintaining the same position for over a while now. The smile on your lips faltered at the sight of Rafe exiting the water, straightening up when you noticed him strolling in your direction. 

Heat flushed your face as you caught sight of his bare chest, waterdrops running along the sunkissed flesh, leading down to his drenched shorts, as they hung low around his hips. Your throat ran dry when your gaze halted just beneath his bellybutton, the trail of hair leading to under the fabric of his bottoms leaving little to the imagination. It drove you crazy, eager to see where it guides, head wandering with sinful thoughts every time you caught sight of it. 

You cleared your throat, busying yourself with something else, fearing Rafe would catch you practically thirsting over him. The latter however, didn’t say much, dusting the sand off the towel beside yours, before he sprawled himself next to you, crossing his legs to mimic your position. 

“Why aren’t you joining the rest?” Rafe questioned, cutting through the comfortable silence. 

“Not in the mood.” You replied, keeping your answer short, afraid your voice would crack if you further spoke. 

“‘S that so?” He shot back, nudging your foot with his knee. “You’re boring.” 

“Boring?!” You muttered with defense, offended by the remark. “Take that back.” 

“Hmm…” he trailed off, squinting one of his eyes, blinded by the scorching sun. “No.” 

“You’re such an idiot.” You scoffed, stifling out a laugh. “Are you not going back in the water?”

“I am,” he exclaimed, now turned in your direction. “Can I borrow these real quick?”

“Borrow what?–” Your question was cut short, as Rafe’s hand came in view, not giving you a chance to process his action as he snatched the sunglasses off, causing you to yelp with surprise. “What the hell?!”

“Oh, these are nice.” He mumbled, adjusting them around the bridge of his nose. “A bit small, but ‘s fine.” 

“You’re stretching them out!” You gasped, reaching for them back, merely for the boy to dodge your hand, tilting his head down with a mischievous grin smeared all over. “C’mon, Rafe, don’t be like this.” 

“Like what?” He cocked his head to the side, observing you through his now tinted vision. 

“Rafe!!” You cried out, fully sitting up now. “I spent my hard earned money on these, I’ll kill you if they break.”

“Your hard earned money?” He repeated, further teasing you with his comments. 

“Okay, my dad got them for me, but–” you started, growing a bit embarrassed at the admission. 

“I’ll give them back,” he hummed, taking them off and folding them in place. “Only if you join me, though.” 

“I’m not going in the water.” You refused, dismissing his attempt with a nod of disbelief. 

“Why not?!” He cooed, “Come on, it'll be fun.” 

“Are you crazy?” You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “I’m not getting my hair wet.” 

“Please?” He further pleaded, jutting his lips into a pout. “Ryan left, who am I gonna be with, now that he’s gone?”

Your head shifted back to the water, merely to confirm his statement. And true to his words, Ryan was no longer in sight, having probably disappeared back into the house in the short while you and Rafe were arguing. 

“Hang out with the rest.” You shot back, addressing your friends, as they messed around with each other. “They’ll keep you company.” 

“Have you seen them?” Rafe’s face twisted with disgust, his lips forming into a frown. “They’re eating each other’s faces, God knows what they’re doing in that water.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” You replied, disregarding his statement, and looking past the last sentence he muttered. You saw your chance, and took it, contemplating before you snatched the pair of glasses from his hold, muffling your next words with haste. “I’ll kill you next time you steal my stuff.” 

“Is that a yes?” Rafe perked up with excitement, taking your silence as a yes before he shot up, instantly offering you a hand. “Let’s go.” 

“What?” You angled your head back, locking your gaze with his, slightly taken aback by the hand he offered. “I don’t recall agreeing to this…”

“Well, you’re obligated to join me now; don’t give me false hope then back down when I urge you to do it.” He started, his words somehow foreshadowing a deeper meaning to the teasing statement. Rafe bent down, just enough to take his hand in yours before he pulled you up, a screech of surprise rattling out of your throat. 

“Rafe!” You chanted with disbelief, stumbling over your own feet in the process of running, unable to catch up with Rafe, who hurried his way to the water. “Slow down!”

He replied with a chuckle, a rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins as the water touched your feet, engulfing your legs with each step you took, halting when it was just above your knees. 

“Wait– fuck, it’s cold.” You started, hands grabbing Rafe’s forearm for support, a mere attempt to stop him. And it did, with the boy pausing to steal a glimpse in your direction. “Let me get used to the water temperature.” 

“You’ll get used to it in no time.” He rolled his eyes, though he slowed down his pace, walking leisurely for you to adjust to the cold. 

Rafe chuckled as a wave came crashing against your bare torso, stiffening in your spot as a shiver ran down your spine, causing goosebumps to break out across your arms. A deep sigh tumbled past your parted lips, finger nails practically digging into Rafe’s arms everytime a wave would hit. 

Your friends greeted you from afar, not questioning the fact that you were alone with Rafe, a big distance separating you from the rest. Deep down, you speculated the fact that they knew, choosing to avoid the topic every time Sarah would ask about Rafe, or whether there was any progress in whatever you had; which you’d dismiss, telling her it was nothing. 

“Can we stop here?” You questioned, when the water barely reached your chin, now standing on your tippy toes to keep yourself steady with the flowing water. 

“Here?” Rafe repeated, brows knitting with confusion. “Why, are you scared?” 

“Slightly, yeah.” You admitted, pursing your lips into a thin line to avoid water from entering your mouth. “This is the deepest I’ve been without a life jacket.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” Rafe’s expression coiled with concern. 

You nodded, angling your head up, not risking how rocky the waves get. 

“Don’t worry,” Rafe suddenly spoke, earning your attention when his arm sneaked around your waist, ceasing some of the distance separating you from him. “I got you.” 

“Nope, that’s it, I’m getting out.” You muttered, turning in his arms, in an attempt to walk back out, merely for Rafe to tighten his hold around you, with your back now pressing firmly to his broad chest. 

Your breath caught in your throat, suddenly very aware of his presence, and the mess you got yourself into. For some reason, this felt oddly intimate, despite the boy’s pure intentions, striving to convince you to continue on with him, in spite of you refusing to. 

“I’ll hold you.” His voice dropped barely above a whisper, turning you back around, all while keeping himself steady. “Don’t be scared.”

“But I am scared,” you replied, emphasizing the ‘am’ in the process. “Sure, I know how to swim, but what if you get a cramp, and I try to save you, then both of us drown?” 

“Come on, I’ll be your life jacket.” He grinned, deliberately dragging you deeper into the water. “Are you doubting my skills?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” You uttered, eyes widening when your feet could no longer reach the ground. “My parents will kill you if something happens to me, I swear to god.” 

“Then I’d have to get rid of both of us.” He joked, halting when you were far enough from the shore, stilling you with the arm sturdy around your waist. “How is that? Wanna go deeper?” 

“No!” You quickly shot back, hands flying to his shoulders, holding onto them to keep yourself from sinking. “This is good.” 

“If you say so.” He chuckled, ignoring the way his pulse quickened when your hands made contact with the skin around his shoulders, your nails lightly dragging over the flesh. He rubbed soothing circles to your side, the gesture a mere attempt to ease you up. “Relax, nothing is gonna happen to you.” 

“I’m relaxed.” You lied through your teeth, avoiding Rafe’s gaze, and instead admiring the view surrounding the rocky path leading to the mountains. “It’s so pretty from here.”

“It is.” Rafe mumbled, attention fixed on you. “Super pretty.”

Your lips tugged into a smile at his words, head shifting back in his direction, where he was shamelessly staring at you, not even failing to hide it. You dusted your face with your fingers, flashing Rafe a confused look, as to question why his gaze burned through you. 

“Is there something on my face?” You asked, coming to a halt when he shook his head. “Then what is it?” 

“Nothing,” he stifled out a laugh, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk. “You’re jus’ pretty.” 

“What?” You choked through a breath, growing flustered from the sudden compliment. “What was that for?” 

“What?” Rafe’s tongue darted out, coating his lips with a glossy layer of spit. “I said, you’re pretty. Is that not allowed?” 

“Shut up.” You shoved his shoulder, laughing off your embarrassment, though your ears burned with heat. 

“You know,” Rafe swallowed, admiring your surroundings. “I heard there were sharks in this area.” 

“What? Where?” You shouted, heartbeat quickening as panic settled in. “Don’t fuck with me, Rafe!”

“I thought you liked sharks.” His voice lowered with suspicion, eyebrows arching in a teasing manner. 

“Not as they’re about to fucking eat me.” You replied, fully ceasing the distance as you wrapped your arms around Rafe’s neck, pressing your chest close to his. “Get me out of here.” 

Rafe took your horror as a chance, the hand on your waist trailing up your back, until it settled just beneath your bikini top. “Relax, it was a joke.” 

Your head turned to face him, ready to scold him before you noticed how close he was, nose tulling to brush over yours. A shaky exhale stuttered out of your throat, shivers running down your spine when you caught Rafe’s gaze flickering to your lips, the action so subtle, you would’ve looked past it if he wasn’t mere inches away. 

Rafe’s lips slightly parted, tongue fidgeting with the roof of his mouth, fingers squeezing around your side, striving to hold himself back, and not kiss you right then in there. You were close, a little too close for comfort, he wanted nothing but to fuck the barrier Ryan created for you two, dive in and hope for the best. 

His thoughts were interrupted when you shoved his shoulders, eyebrows furrowing as your lips jut into a pout, one evidently displaying your distress. “That wasn’t funny! Why would you joke about that?!” 

“Chill, I’m messing with you.” Rafe snickered, eyes glued to your face, well aware he’d betray himself if he let his gaze wander past your neck. 

“By telling me I’ll get eaten to death by sharks?!” You huffed, pausing as you angled your head to the side. “Wait– how’d you know I like sharks?”

“I have my ways.” He cooed, pupils dilating with glint. 

“Mhm, yeah right.” You rolled your eyes, figuring it was either Sarah, or your brother. “Let’s head back.” 

“But we just got here!” Rafe protested. 

“I don’t trust you.” You defensively shot back, shuffling around in his hold. 

Rafe chuckled, abiding to your order. He swam back, with you clinging to him for dear life, not daring to risk it and let go. Though, of course, that wasn’t the end, as Rafe suddenly froze, groaning while his face twisted in pain. 

“What’s wrong?” You immediately asked, concern washing over your expression. 

“I think– fuck.” He groaned, arms loosening around your waist. “I think my leg is cramping.”

“Wait what?” You frowned at his statement, eyes widening with shock when his figure disappeared out of sight, suddenly struggling to level himself with you. “Are you serious, oh my god, should I call for help?!” 

You nearly submerged under water when your arms reached for the latter, struggling to drag him up as he sailed down, your hold the only thing keeping him from sinking further into the deep sea. 

Wasn’t it easy to drag weights in the water? So, why was it so difficult to get Rafe to the surface?

“Don’t fucking drown on me, Rafe, please.” You muttered with frustration, heart welling with fear, as your vision blurred, the corner of your eyes brimmed with tears. “Somebody help! Please! It’s an eme–”

Your words cut short when Rafe came in sight, water splashing everywhere with the force of him exiting the water. Your mouth gaped to speak, met with utter silence in return, observing as Rafe chuckled at your reaction, feigning ignorance to your panicked state. 

“Did that get you?” He erupted into a fit of giggles, wiping the water from his eyes. 

“Are you serious?” Your tone washed with disbelief, heartbeat so loud you could hear it thumping through your ears. “Why would you joke about that?”

“Take a joke, it’s not that serious.” He stated, the smile smeared on his lips fading when he noticed how upset you visibly looked. 

“A joke is supposed to be funny, dickhead.” You fluttered your eyes, unable to manage the tears rolling down your face. “What if something actually happened to you?” 

“Wait, are you crying?” His breath hitched as he let realization sink in, chest swelling with discomfort at the consequences of his actions. You weakly punched his torso, fleeing from the touch when Rafe attempted to inch closer to you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His hands cupped your face, resting just above the curve of your jaw as his thumb wiped away your tears, now mixed with salt-water. He repeatedly rubbed his finger over your cheeks, striving to calm you down with the subtle gesture. 

“It won’t happen again,” he started, tilting your head with the hands engulfing your face. “I didn’t think you’d take it so seriously.” 

“Whatever,” you dismissed his apology, though deep down it softened your heart. “It still wasn’t funny, I was scared you’d actually die.” 

Rafe’s lips twitched into a smile at your statement, unable to contain the laughter bubbling through his chest. You looked absolutely adorable, leaving him speechless as his action spoke for his affection. He moved forward, leveling your head down before he ceased the distance between you two, and capturing your lips in a soft peck that lasted a near of five seconds.  

Your body stiffened at the gesture, so taken aback you almost choked on your own spit in the process. The plush of his lips brushing over yours felt like feathers, as the warmness of his mouth engulfed your skin. It made you yearn for time to stop, enjoy this while it lasted, even if it was for a short moment. 

“There, it’s completely my fault.” He whispered once he pulled back, face mere inches away from yours, you could feel his breath fanning over your nose. “Does that make up for it?” 

Your gaze seeked his blue eyes through the small distance separating you, finger nails lightly grazing over his arms. Silence heaved the air, as the atmosphere filled with unresolved tension you’ve both been avoiding for the past few days, weeks, even. 

Rafe kissed you, and it’s not some stupid joke to get you riled up, or mess around for a reaction out of you. He did it because he wanted to, completely looking over the fact that you were his best friend’s sister, let alone someone he craved in the dimness of the night, somewhere hidden, where no one would judge him for it.  

Rafe has been dying to confront you about the kiss, turning into a giddy mess every time he would reminisce over the memory of your lips softly brushing over the corner of his mouth. And though it was small, barely a peck, it drove him insane. 

That night, Rafe chose to ignore the guilt rising through his chest as he got off to the thought of you; being able to touch you though he knew you were far out of his reach, not for his gaze to admire. His chest burned with forbidden desire, growing aroused every time he caught you in none but your sheer sleeping shorts, covering nothing and leaving little to the imagination. 

“You know,” Rafe muttered through a ragged breath, “About that ni–”

The palm of your hand instantly found Rafe’s mouth, covering it before he could further speak. You knew exactly what he was planning to say, but you weren’t ready. Not right now, still flustered by the kiss he so casually planted to your lips. 

Addressing the kiss from three nights ago in the middle of the water, mind you, in an area secluded from everyone else? Yeah, no. That wasn’t quite what you had in mind, Rafe left you no choice but to shut him out. 

“Hmm?” You hummed, trying to change the topic.

“What?” Rafe muffled, lips barely moving due to your hand covering his mouth.

“We should leave,” you fluttered your eyes at him, “The sun is setting.”

“Right,” he spoke, eyes shifting down to your digits yet engulfing his chin. “You can let go of me now.”

“Oh,” you swiftly retrieved your hand, clearing your throat as you turned around to avoid meeting his gaze. “Sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” Rafe scoffed, following in your steps as you struggled to swim back, breaking into a grin when your arms pushed through the water, slightly splashing the latter with the gesture. “Here, let me help you.” 

“I’m good!” You dismissed the suggestion, letting out a sigh of relief when your feet eventually reached the ground, ultimately approaching a safer zone. “I can handle myself.”

Rafe’s giggles seeped through the silence, watching with a glint of amusement as you aimed for the shore, running your way back to the house when you did so. You gave him no chance to confront you about the situation, though the suspense was killing you, it was just not the right time, nor a good place to do it. 

Freaking out felt like an understatement for your emotions, letting out a silent scream as soon as you approached your room. Fuck, this wasn’t the first time you’ve been kissed, so why did it feel like you were in middle school, sneaking around the playground to kiss your crush? 

It was humiliating, to say the least. Rafe kissed you, and it did nothing but make you grow more fond of him, increasing your affection for him. Butterflies seeped through your stomach, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips, letting yourself go now that you’re alone. 

Your shower filled with giddiness, as you sang along to the lyrics playing in the background, too caught up with the act to realize you’ve spent the majority of the evening in there. You continued getting ready, doing your skincare, and technically everything you would do on an everything-shower day. 

A loud ping caught your attention as your gaze trailed down to your phone, eyebrows knitting with puzzlement when it continued buzzing with notifications. You adjusted the pearl necklace around your neck, fastening your pace when curiosity got the best of you, as you instantly aimed for your phone, heart skipping a beat when you read the contact name of the sender. 

It was from Rafe, multiple messages, at that. 

rafe 👍: Hey

rafe 👍: Come eat

rafe 👍: We got takeout 🥡 

A laugh bubbled out of your throat at the emoji, the invitation silly, yet tempting. 

You: im not hungry! go ahead and eat without me :)

rafe 👍: No

You: boy… wdym no 

rafe 👍: Come down and eat

Your eyes quirked with suspicion, puzzled over why he was insisting despite you refusing. 

You: did you poison my food

You: why are you insisting…

rafe 👍: Damn… I can't even invite you to eat without you making me out to be a dick

You: i mean you are what you eat 😇

rafe 👍:😐 Quit it

You: mb boo

You: is this a date

Rafe’s bubble appeared and disappeared off the screen, the amount of time he took concerning you for a moment. 

rafe 👍: Could be one

rafe 👍: Only if you want it to be

Your fingers hesitantly hovered over the keyboard, staring at the message, as if doing that would make the keen in his statement disappear. You swallowed around your dry throat, setting your phone down, merely to process your emotions. 

A date. 

He can’t say shit like this and expect you not to like him. 

At this point, he was playing with your feelings, and that thought alone had your heart breaking to pieces. It’s only been a month, and yet, you were this infatuated with him. Bearing to cross the line for Rafe spoke to you like no other, breaking the unspoken boundaries you set for each other. 

You don’t know when it started, from lingering gazes turned into subtle touches, eventually oscillated to heated moments smeared with desire. Wanting each other, not being able to do anything about it because it was wrong. It all fuzzed up your brain. 

Rafe was testing you, with each time he threw a hint in your direction. Hell, he should know not to confuse you, as he already went down the rabbit hole of why he couldn't date you, with Ryan warning him every time he’d joke about being into you. 

Enjoying it wouldn't hurt, right? Choosing to push the guilt down and let your heart bloom with joy every time Rafe is around was okay, right? Because it’s human nature, how were you supposed to ignore him when his mere presence was so tempting, making you nothing but crave him more. 

Guilt was temporary, but regretting this? It was going to haunt you forever, tulling you with decisions you hesitated to commit, afraid they would hurt others, fully abandoning how you felt. Those were your emotions, though, your needs, you had every right to take the risk. 

With that, you typed a playful ‘shut up’ back, before heading downstairs, instantly letting puzzlement settle in when you spotted only JJ and Kiara, sitting along with Rafe, who perked up at the sound of your steps.

“Where’s the others?” You questioned, wrapping Kiara in a swift embrace, before you seated yourself next to her. 

“John B and Sarah went out for dinner, and I saw Ryan leave with your dad.” She explained, chewing down the mouthful of food. “I have no idea where Pope and Cleo are, though.” 

“Oh, they said they’re grabbing booze.” JJ stifled out a laugh, eyebrows quirking in a teasing meaning. 

“For what?!” You asked, offering Rafe a tight-lipped smile when he passed you your plate. 

“Shut up, JJ.” Kiara rolled her eyes, fixing her attention back on you. “He’s messing, don’t listen to him.” 

“I’m not lying–” his words cut short when Kiara kicked his knee, the gesture earning a breathy grunt out of the latter. “What was that for?” 

“To keep your mouth shut.” The girl replied, forcing a fake beam across her lips. 

Rafe snorted as they continued bickering throughout the whole time you joined them. He flashed you an apologetic smile, not aware of the chaos awaiting you two. Fortunately, JJ and Kiara excused themselves once they were done, informing you they’d be chilling by the shore for the night, leaving you all alone with Rafe.

The air heaved with tension, the atmosphere filling with unspoken confessions you both oughted to address. Rafe’s been full, using the food as an excuse to enjoy your presence for a little longer. 

“‘You ignorin’ me?” Rafe started, scraping his fork against the veggie pieces splayed on the plate. 

“What?” You shot back, frowning at the sudden assumption. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, it’s just that,” he tilted his head to the side, putting the utensil in his hold down. “You seem uncomfortable.”

“Well, I’m not.” You mimicked, playfully rolling your eyes. “Besides, we don’t even speak for me to ignore you.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” He nodded his head, gaze glued to his arm plopped on the table. “You’d rather kiss me instead.”

“What?” A choked cough barely exits your throat, eyes widening with shock over Rafe’s statement. That caught you off guard, even more when Rafe maintained a blank expression, offering you a glass of water to down the rest of your food. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, “Do you need more water?” 

“Why would you bring that up?” You brushed off his concern, his words echoing over and over in the back of your brain. 

“You kissed me,” he repeated himself, stating the obvious. “Did you not?” 

“I did, but–” you stammered, face flushing with heat. “I didn’t mean to?–”

“You grabbed my face, leaned forward, then proceeded to kiss me.” He muttered, reminiscing back to the memory. “What about that did you not mean?” 

“It was a mistake!” You hurried to respond, stumbling over your own words in the process. “I was drunk, out of my mind–”

“Oh, so it’s a mistake?” He snorted, straightening up in his seat. “You go around kissing people when you’re drunk?” 

“Okay, why are you being a dick?” Your nose scrunched with frustration, exploding in the latter’s face. “And if I do? Then what, you’re gonna do something about it?”

“I’m trying to make sense of the situation here,” he shot back, his arm moving in front of his chest. “I’m not fucking around, okay? I’ve been dying to speak to you, but you never gave me a chance to explain myself.” 

“What’s there to explain, Rafe?” Your voice lowered in tone, taken aback by how fast the conversation took a turn. “I’m like Sarah, huh? Then you go n’ fuckin’ kiss me?”

“Why are you switching the–”

“No, let’s discuss the incident from earlier, since we’re fucking talking.” You cut him off, jaw clenching to prevent yourself from breaking down. “You keep pulling these stunts on me– first in the grocery store, then in the car, and earlier in the water– what is it that you want? You know Ryan won’t be happy if he found out, so why do you keep– why do you keep fucking confusing me, Rafe?” 

“I–” Rafe’s words caught in his throat, hands clenching into fists. 

“Forget it.” You clicked your teeth, grabbing your phone as you stood to your feet, streaking your way past Rafe, with the intentions of reaching the stairs. 

Rafe called out your name, voice breaking with despair. “Where are you going?”

The way your name rolled off his tongue made your heart skip a beat, letting your eyes force shut as you feigned glancing back, afraid you’d give in if you caught sight of his expression. 

You entered one of the guest bathrooms, locking the door behind you before you immediately dialed Cleo’s number, impatiently clicking your fingers over the phone as you waited for the girl to pick up. 

A sigh of relief escaped your throat when she did, a bit of shuffling going on her end. 

“Hey Cleo,” you muttered through a breath, taking a deep inhale, as your thumb pressed to your bottom lip. “I– sorry, I know you’re out with Pope, I jus’ really needed to talk to someone and I–”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Cleo spoke, interrupting your rambling. “Take a deep breath, I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be here.” 

“Okay,” you nodded, though she couldn’t see you, obliging to her orders. “Sorry, fuck–”

“Why are you apologizing, girl?” She shot back, attempting to soothe away your worries. “Now slowly, tell me what’s bothering you.” 

“I kind of, uhm…” you trailed off, fidgeting with the ring hugging your finger. “I fucked up, Cleo. I got ahead of myself, and ruined everything.” 

“No you didn’t.” Cleo assured, “What happened? Don’t panic, okay? Everything will be alright.” 

“Alright, I didn’t mean to keep this from you, I thought it would be a fleeing moment, but I guess not?–” You hesitated, nervously biting your lip as you prepared yourself for the confession. “I kissed Rafe, and while it was somewhat, he tried to confront me about it, and I panicked!” 

“Okay, woah, woah.” Cleo uttered, disbelief visible through her tone. “When did that happen?” 

“Three days ago, after the party.” You huffed, angling your head back with a pout. “I’m such an idiot, why am I acting like something happened between us? I lashed out on him and stormed off, what if he regrets it?” 

“Well, you’re the one who kissed him.” Cleo clarified, “Why would he regret it?” 

“Actually– something sort of happened earlier…” you mumbled, clearing your throat. 

“Don’t tell me he fucking kissed you, Bug.” Cleo took a guess, making you freeze in your spot, not denying her suspicions. “He did? What the hell, and you didn’t say anything?” 

“Listen, I barely got time to process it, I was planning on telling you eventually.” A sigh stuttered out of your throat, crying out loud. “I’m so dumb, why did I get mad at him? It’s not even his fault!” 

“Calm down, baby, it will be alright.” Cleo secured, “I’m sure he understands, this is probably bothering him as well.” 

“What if he thinks I’m childish?” You questioned, “I felt so guilty, Cleo, I don’t want his friendship with Ryan to fall apart ‘cause of me.” 

“That won’t happen, trust me.” Cleo advised, her tone soft. “It’s obvious that you’re both attracted to each other, Ryan will have to accept it, he can’t interfere jus’ cause he doesn’t want you dating his friends.” 

“But he’s right,” your shoulders relaxed with disappointment, already imagining the scenery Ryan would put out. “And Rafe doesn’t like me, trust, I’m like ninety-nine percent sure he doesn’t.” 

“Ninety-nine?” Cleo cooed, earning a chuckle out of you. “Okay, come on, have you seen him? Pope told me about what happened on the way back, don’t tell me this man is not head over heels for you.” 

“Why’s Pope snitching?!” You scoffed, sniffling as you rolled your eyes. “Okay, maybe he might like me, he keeps dropping hints, but I don’t know?” 

“What hints?” Cleo’s tone glinted with curiosity, waiting for you to further speak. 

“He texted me earlier, and I was messing around but instead of brushing it off he went with the flow?” You explained, your words coming off as a question. “Maybe I’m misreading the situation, but let’s say he did like me, then what? What do we do, will we keep things a secret because of Ryan?” 

“Why are you thinking about that?” Cleo giggled, ridiculed by how much you were overthinking this. “Enjoy it, okay? You like him, go for it, don’t hold back.” 

“And if he doesn’t like me?” You stifled out a laugh, leisurely fluttering your eyes shut. “I don’t know, it started off as a joke, but I’m starting to for real like him, Cleo. I’ve never felt this way about someone before.” 

“Okay, there you go, you got your answer.” Cleo chanted, making you shake your head. “Now, I don’t mean to be nosy, but it’s your fault for mentioning it.” 

“God, what is it?” You rolled your eyes, already expecting what she was about to say.

“What did he say in those messages?” She asked, earning a chuckle out of you, as you moved the phone from your ear, already pulling up Rafe’s contact. 

You screenshotted the conversation, Cleo’s voice muffling through the speakers of your phone, her words fully incoherent. “Hold on, I can’t hear you.

Cleo remained silent, waited while you cropped the screenshot, before bringing the phone back to your ear. “Alright, what did you say?” 

“I said hurry up!” She chimed back. 

“Okay, someone’s curious.” You teased, pressing on the photo icon, before you selected the image and sent it over, waiting for Cleo to receive it. “There.” 

“You sent it?” She asked, humming as she pulled up your messages. “I don’t see anything.” 

“What? But I sen– oh.” you halted as you let realization kick in, immediately reaching for your phone, hoping your suspicions might be wrong. “Fuck, Cleo, I sent it to Rafe.”

An audible gasp escaped Cleo’s lips at the statement, words going unnoticed as Rafe’s text bubble appeared on the screen, not giving you a chance to delete it before he saw it. 

rafe 👍: ???

“Oh my God, he saw it.” You whispered, “Wait, let me go back to my room.” 

You creaked the door open, instantly shutting it when Rafe came in sight, heart thumping loud with panic. Your eyes widened a bit, when footsteps echoed through your ears, knowing the owner behind the noises.  

“He’s heading upstairs,” you informed Cleo in a hushed tone, “What do I do?” 

“Where are you?” She asked.

“I’m in the upstairs bathroom, the one down the hallway.” 

“Okay, wait ‘till he leaves, then go back to your room.” 

You nodded, even if the girl couldn’t see you, too nauseous to comprehend normal words out. Hell, that probably weirded him out, what will he think now? 

However, despite how nervous you grew, Cleo stayed on call, assuring you that it would be alright, even though you knew deep down, it wasn’t. 

“Alright, I’ll go now, it’s quiet,” You sighed, breath shaky with anxiousness. “We’ll talk when you’re back, I’m sorry for taking up your time.” 

“Are you sure?” Cleo questioned with concern, “I can stay on call until we’re back, I don’t mind.” 

“No it’s okay,” you insisted, “Besides, I’m tired, I’ll see about this tomorrow, it’s too much to process right now.” 

“Alright,” Cleo exhaled, “Let me know if you need anything, we’ll be back in a bit.” 

You bid your goodbyes, putting your phone down as you aimed for the door, peaking your head out to check whether the coast was clear. Your shoulders relaxed when Rafe was nowhere in sight, tippy toeing your way back to your room, making sure to be as careful as physically possible. 

Barely escaping the situation, your heart sank to your stomach when you unlatched the doorknob, now greeted with Rafe seated on the edge of your bed, perking up when you made your presence known. 

“What are you doing here?” You mumbled, feeling your throat run dry. 

You wanted the ground to split and swallow you whole, unable to bear the embarrassment of facing Rafe, now a few feet away from you. 

“You know…” He trailed off, getting up with a groan. “I was plannin’ to give you space, talk things out when you’re ready, but…”

Your fingers clutched to the doorknob when Rafe walked in your direction, towering over you and cornering you against the door, as it leisurely closed within each step you took back. 

“God, you’re killing me.” He whispered, gulping as his gaze flickered to your parted lips, coated with a faint layer of spit.

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, hesitating before pressing his hand to your hip, his hold burning holes through your flesh. Your eyes remained on his face, watching as his expression changed into something serious, stirring up your insides with a rush of adrenaline.

You stiffened under the touch, slightly taken aback by the bold move, even as your body leaned into it, chasing after the sensation of his fingers marking your skin. , 

“You know how much you’re affecting me, don’t you?” He hushed out, digits dragging up your side, and tumbling just beneath the material, his touch welcoming the warmness of your skin. “The amount of times I had to control myself, and respect the boundaries I set with Ryan.” 

“Rafe.” Your tone lowered to match his, an inaudible gasp exiting your parted lips when he pinned you to the door, fingers squeezing the plush of your flesh. “What are you doing?” 

Rafe stuck to answering with his actions, bringing his other hand to your face, and taking the curve of your jaw in between his fingers. His thumb pressed to your chin, using it to angle your head up, striving to study your face up close. 

“You’re breathtaking, you know that?” He whispered, smearing your glossed lips with his thumb, the gesture causing you to part your mouth in a sigh. “God, you know how difficult it was? Telling myself you’re off limits; when you’re all I think about, twenty-four, seven; always on mind.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” You exhaled through your mouth, vision going blurry as Rafe leaned his forehead against yours, his hot breath fanning above the bridge of your nose. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Rafe.” 

“I was barely holding myself back,” He muttered, trailing light, open-mouthed kisses to your lips. “It’s your,” a kiss, “fault,” and another, “for tempting,” he paused, “me.”

That was the only sign you needed as you moved forward, letting your guilt wash with new found desire when you captured Rafe’s lips in an eager kiss you’ve both been dying for.

Rafe’s arms sneaked to your sides, locking you in place as he ceased the distance separating you two, though that felt impossible, as he licked and nipped at your lips, suddenly feeling drunk on your sweetness. 

You tasted amazing, way better than what Rafe had imagined, leaving him craving more as he angled your head to the side, with the intent of deepening the kiss. 

In that moment, you didn’t care whether this was a dream, or reality. In fact, you wanted to wake up the next morning with the same giddiness filling your insides, Rafe being the reason behind it. 

You wanted Rafe, the kiss merely proving the yearn tulling your insides, till you no longer were able to bear it. 

Fuck it, you chose to take the risk, let yourself enjoy this while it lasts, knowing that eventually, you’d need to put an end to it; hence Rafe is off limits.

a/n all support is v much appreciated! pulling my hair out i forgot how to write. SORRY ik i didnt do the kiss justice but i just wanted to get the kiss out of the way... dont get bored of me yet i promise theres so much more to squeeze in the next four chapters theyre just entering their situationship era 🙈 ALSO IK I SAID THERE WILL BE TEXTS BUT I LIED next one 100% though!!! anyways yeah i hope you enjoyed, lmk ur thoughts!!!

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[swordsandholly]

Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”