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retiredteabag · 2 months ago

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Hidden from sight

Synopsis: In a state of humiliation, you attempt to hide an injury from your master, Sukuna, this, of course, does not go to plan.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Foolish.

That, you were sure, was what Lord Sukuna would call you when you returned to the estate.

He was a harsh, and strict man. He never liked for you to stray from his presence too long, and more than anything else, he was mean. He said what he wanted, and always meant it.

You had begged the king of curses to allow you a day amongst the townsfolk, a day to explore the gardens outside of Sukunas domain, a day to see and hear and feel the world you so rarely saw.

The king, of course, was not too keen on this. You were not a member of kitchen staff, or a concubine, or a groundskeeper either. Like many people on the compound, you were simply a servant to the king. Yet, your relationship was not one that could be compared to your peers.

Beloved to the king, perhaps being too strong of a word. You were special to him, however. He expected your attendance at his meals or downtime. One might think you were close, but the truth of the matter was:

You hardly knew the king.

And he barely spoke to you either.

You had come to the palace an adult, knowing little of the king's mannerisms. Meeting him on rare occasions proved a thrilling experience. He was unlike any man you had ever met.

One evening, your presence was needed in the bath chamber. You had been told to assist in the cleaning of your king. Nonplussed as you were, you pled your case. An uninformed and inexperienced launderer. You were in no position to touch the king, too dirty yourself to even wish for such a position.

Having been told to never deny the king of anything he demanded, you were certain the response would not be one of pleasure. You escaped that day unscathed, a mere,

"Then depart from my sight"

Uttered from him, eyes closed, hand shooing you away.

But time passed and with the phases of the moon, so too did your relationship with the king alter. Night after night you grew more and more certain the king was calling for you directly. You grew acquainted with the king, with his bloodthirsty antics, with his unforgiving nature, with his intolerance for rebellion.

You served him through it all.

Twas' your job.

A launderer.

A foot servant for your employer.

You were sure, he would not be forgiving if you returned to his estate in such disarray. Only having warned you to be mindful a mere two hours prior, you limped from the ache in the side of your pelvis.

Your feet shook on the uneven ground beneath you. You had only just left the village you so desired to see, basket in hand full of goods to bring to your fellow maids. Evening was falling and the memory of the king's warning flooded your mind.

As you had made the trek back, the sight of a deer in the woods had shocked you. Certain you were looking at a curse, you gasped, lunged for cover, and promptly tripped over a stone lining the path through the woods.

Too eager to protect the contents of your basket your hands had been too occupied to catch your weight. You were certain there were scratched on your knees, but the real pain came from just above your hip, where an ill-placed stone had bludgeoned your flesh.

Dark red sept through your kimono, it had never looked so much like your kings. But he would not be pleased. Of this you were sure.

Foolish.

Too easily frightened.

Weak.

You knew little of Lord Sukuna's vast abilities. One thing you knew for certain was that the king had the ability to feel the souls of those around him. He knew when someone was guilty when someone was excited and fearful. He could sense it as if he was feeling those things himself. For this reason, before drawing too close to the palace gates, you steadied your heart and mind, reaching for peace as to not alert Sukuna of your presence so soon.

You went first to the washhouse, and rid yourself of the filthy clothes. After which, you were at once able to see the depth of your injuries. It had hurt, your way back to the palace, but after seeing them for what they were, you had to fight to keep the spike of panic from rising. How could you hide this? Hide it from him?

You wash your kimono of the coppery smell, disposing of it behind a pile of extra wash bins. You occupy your hands by dabbing at the open wound, wrapping yourself in a linen cloth, and dressing in one of the extra cleaning uniforms.

You were so caught up in walking in a straight line back to the estate, you almost forgot your gifts and whine out at the thought of making the trip back to the wash house. But you steel yourself and do it.

By the time you make it to the kitchens, it is far later than you intended. You simply drop the basket off on a staff table, wobbling to your chambers.

All you want is to sleep, to hide yourself from all the noises of the estate night shift, but the throbbing pain in your side is intense, and worse, you've bled through both your linen bandage as well as a laundry uniform. Even so, you are too tired to come up with a way to right this, you decide, that will be the job of tomorrow y/n.

Of course, when you arise the next morning, unable to sit up, you regret your choices of the night prior. Unintentionally a wail escapes your lips, the pain is so deep, so unchanging that you want to cry. You feel the humiliation once again from yesterday, what would Sukuna say if he knew of this? Would he remove you from the estate? Or would he simply look at you with disgust? Would he ever speak to you again?

Something you were sure of, at least, was that there was no way you would be able to work, bent over a wash basin, in the condition you are in. Knowing that, you were concerned with how long you could hide away in your chambers before someone came to get you.

Several maids had already come to speak through your door, asking about your trip, the basket of goodies you left in the kitchen, and eventually, in concerned tones, if you were alright.

You reassured them in a comforting voice that you were quite well but exhausted from your journey and would likely retire before dinner was served.

You had never been up however, still, the other launderers did not question your words, sure you just needed a nights more rest. There was, however, a person in the estate you could never evade, and contrary to popular belief, it was not Lord Sukuna. He certainly did not care enough for you to need to hide yourself from him, however, his loyal servant and chef, Uraume, always had everything in order and was aware of all the "goings on" that occurred within the estate walls.

Only a few minutes after the communal dinner bell was rung did Uraume arrive at your chambers, requesting your presence. Unfortunately, they were not so easy to dissuade. I have no appetite did not work, I long for rest, did not work, I tire from my journey, did not work. None of it worked. They were determined, if nothing else, to see you. There was nothing to be done.

In a grand effort, you slid from your bed to the floor, a dull moan muffled by the mattress as you strained your legs to rise but it was a tireless endeavor. Wincing, you shuddered to the door, opened it a crack to meet th Uraume's stern eyes.

"You are unwell." They announced.

You knew you could not lie, not directly. Still, you attempted to fib your way around it, claiming your menstrual cycle was nearing, but it did not work, claiming you had eaten something foul in the village, they merely squinted at you, you were blundering, grasping for straws. In your desperation, you did not notice Uraume's foot slip out to the threshold, slowly pressing your door ajar.

You had been resting your weight said door, and yelped at the pressure. The chef raised an eyebrow and pressed on more firmly. You called out their name and stumbled to the floor.

"You've been attacked?" They question but the pain is so intense you can simply shake your head, in a show of patience you rarely see from Uraume, they brush the hair from your face.

You knew they could use reversed curse technique on themself, but the management of this injury was something that would likely take time.

In the moments it took Uraume to lift you to your bed, and start to clean your wound they had you recount the story, in between each sentence you begged them to keep this from the king. Do not say a word, I beg, followed by, I pray you wouldn't speak of this, ending your story with Lord Sukuna mustn't know.

Even with all the begging, they never once promised you a thing. Pressing your gouged pelvis more firmly still, they wiped your eyes of tears. And when you finally met their gaze, their look seemed to whisper, do not be stupid. You could only hope.

Your hope had been stupid.

You knew it had been last night when Uraume had bandaged you up, you knew it had been when you fought to dress yourself this morning, you knew it had been when you trudged to the wash house, you knew it had been when you began to set up a bin full of sudsy water and even now, bent painfully over, scrubbing away at towels, you knew of your fate.

You had been invited to dine with the king. Once dismissing yourself for not being worthy to wash your king's body had been shockingly, acceptable at one time. But you knew you could not skirt this. You could not deny your presence to him twice.

And in his presence, you knew you could not hide. Uraume had been the one to collect you before the evening meal, washing you, clothing you, and redressing your wound. You walked with intention now, three steps behind the personal chef to the king. You found, however, that you would not be having dinner in one of the many dining rooms, but rather, in the kings chambers.

In an attempt to plead once more, you made to grab Uraumes robe, they simply gave you a look of greatest disdain, opened the door to Sukunas chambers, and bowed.

You could not meet his eyes, you could feel them as they traced over you. Despite the fiery pain, you fell to your knees. You did not speak, Uraume left, and you stayed glued to the floor.

"I hold no affection for those who hide from me."

You could do nothing but nod in your place on the floor. "Yes, my king."

"You know this."

"Yes, my king." You nod again,

"And yet-" You can hear his voice ever louder, he has gotten up from his place on the bed, coming to you, his steps echoing in your ears. "You evade me like an elusive snake." He paces around you steadily. "You hide yourself from my presence, and you beg" He spits it out, vehement, "beg- Uraume to keep your condition from me."

He has stalked behind you now, and begins to creep ever closer to your side, bending to your position to whisper in your ear,

"Did you believe I could not find you, did you think, even for a moment, you could fool me?" You cannot read his tone, nor his face, too ashamed to look.

He stretches back to his full height. "You have always been the one who's appearance I delight most in. Yet, now, you only appear at my demand. Must I demand you to speak as well in order for you to tell me why you have shamed me so?"

Shaking your head quickly, you heave, "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I did not want to- to show you-" You began but Sukuna cuts you off, whirling around,

"That much is very clear. Tell me why without the blabbering nonsense. I wish not to hear apologies fall from your lips now."

You murmur once more, ashamed, but speak up, "I am such a fool." You look up, resigning yourself, you want to see his face, "I wished not for you to see me as such. I am a weak and poor worker. Please, know, I did not mean to shame you."

Sukuna does not respond. Silently making his way to your form, "You cannot even stand on your own. Do you intend to lay there all night, or do you expect aid to be granted to you?"

He sounds genuinely curious, you are unsure of what to say, you had no plan. Your head falls to your lap but in a sudden movement, Sukuna is before you, one arm stretched out to catch your crestfallen face, "Look at me." He speaks gentler than you have ever heard.

With one hand on your jaw, and another cupping the back of your head he huffs air from his nose. "You are a fool."

You cannot look away from him, but all you want now is to hide your face.

"So very foolish." He speaks clearly, "To hide from me, to work in such a condition." Before his words even hit you, you are struck but the grasping of your waist by his other two hands. His eyes remain open but within a moment all your pain is gone. An unintentional noise escapes you at the immediate relief you are brought.

It cannot be said whether the shock of Sukunas RCT or the grasp he had on you caused you to fall limply into his grasp but you have no time to prepare before he is lifting you tenderly into his arms. An unseen sparkle in his eyes. He carries you the few feet to his bed before he lays you across his lap.

"Your condition is not ideal. You shall not work. You are to stay with me" He is petting your hair rather oddly, as if you are a wounded animal he has found.

Attempting to rise you start, "I feel- I- I must extend my gratitude-"

But he is placing a hand on your stomach to keep you down, "You will extend your gratitude by never hiding from me again."

There is no room for argument. You nod up at him. He has one arm still under your knees, another on your waist, and a third stroking your cheek.

"I will never allow you pain again." He murmurs. "Never again." His palm is large enough to cover your face wholly. "I shall keep you within my sight henceforth."

And it is at this moment that you wonder if, perhaps, you are closer to the king than you had originally thought. If you, by chance, meant something to him? If he had been worried for you. But in your dazed state within your king's arms, you smile to yourself, thinking tiredly of how kindly and merciful he had always been to you.

What you did not yet know, was that it was he that was a fool for you.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

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mothman-etd · 3 months ago

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I have talked a few times about Psychological Operations or psyops on here, but I would like to point out a real world example of a PO Operation that was found out recently by the Department of Justice.

Before that though, If you would like to read more about the actual position of a PO soldier, you can look no further then the PO benefits page on the US Army special operations recruitment website (https://www.goarmysof.army.mil/PO/).

Personally I feel like many people still believe psyops to be some kind of conspiracy theory instead of a fairly standard military division in almost all modern militaries, anyways onto the example.

The US Department of Justice is going after (indicting) two RT (Russian state media) employees for committing fraud and violating the Foreign Agents Registration Act.

Basically they created a front "media" company in Tennessee, translated russian propaganda videos into english, then paid right-wing influencers to promote (reblog/retweet/talk about on streams) said videos.

Three of the named influencers that I could find were Tim Pool, Dave Rubin and Benny Johnson.

I honestly have no idea who these three are, but supposedly their platforms have millions of followers. Also, some of these influencers were paid up too $100,000 a week to promote their videos and messaging.

So to summarize, Russia setup a fake company to pay American influencers to repeat their lies so that their followers would interpret those lies as legitimate since their were coming from a source they trust.

When people talk about election interference this is what we are talking about.

$100K a week is insane money for most, I am sure many people would be hard pressed to not sell their soul for that much money. Many of the videos from this media company were lies about the Ukraine war, and looking into Tim Pool it seems he also has a very anti-Ukraine stance (Audio from one of this podcasts https://v.redd.it/41xgvuri0vmd1/DASH_AUDIO_128.mp4)

I generally do not talk about my job on here, but corporations used to pay me to run seminars to help train their employees on spotting these types of attacks--mainly targeted psyops attacks from nation states to hack into their company via end user interaction.

Or in layman's terms, to help companies protect themselves from Russian Ransomware Thieves and Chinese Intellectual Property/Information collectors. Both of these being extensions of the Psychological Operations military divisions of each country.

I am really not sure how to end this post other than I am just trying to show people how real it is that the militaries of the world are spending obscene amounts of money in trying to influence your opinions and day to day life via your internet consumption.

Surf responsibility, be very wary of anyone telling you not to vote and don't believe everything you see/hear on TikTok/youtube/twitter/Insta etc etc

#US election interference #us politics #American politics #if you think your vote does not matter you have been influenced by propaganda #us elections #psyops

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catsip · 1 year ago

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Objectively it’s hilarious how quickly i crumble under pressure

#i hate how starting a new job just means i have to be miserable for months #it’s NOT FUN #trying 2 convince myself that this internship does NOT matter this is just a practice internship i can be dumb as hell and dick around for t #wo months and then peace the fuck out #and then I’ll have experience going into my next internship! which i will hopefully be less insane for #also it’s the only one i could get but it is dawning on me that it MAY have been a mistake to go into a niche complicated area of tax #as a sophomore with FUCK ALL knowledge #but honestly I’d probably be SIMILAR amounts of stressed in another job and be making far less money soooo #also i never thought id want to work from home but now..i fuckin get it #losing two hours of my precious limited free time a day sitting in traffic is genuinely fucking soul crushing #ngl I probably could just work from my house since NO ONE in my department comes into the office so like no one would know or care #i’d lose networking opportunities is all but honesty I’m too exhausted all the time to do any actual socializing at the office #my poor bf though he’s like why are you crying all the time?? like ah yes you’ve never really seen me when i start a new job #he is truly my emotional support person at the moment lmao

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getosbigballsack · 4 months ago

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Ceo husband Gojo Satoru! x Stay at home wife reader!

Random thought, but imagine getting caught having sex with your husband in his office. Its not unusual for the both of you to get it down and dirty in his office, but that's usually during his lunch hours or after dark when he knows he has you all to himself because the kids were at their grandparents and no one was really lurking around his office.

But today, today's different. Upon receiving a text message from your husband. "I need you, come to the office as soon as you can." You wasted no time packing up the kids in the car along with their sleepwear for the night, just in case your husband decides to have his way for you for the whole day. And you hurriedly dropped them off at their grandparents for the night before rushing to tend to your husband.

As soon as you arrive at his company and greeted those who were in sight with a smile and gentle wave, you were finally standing in front of your husband's office. "Satoru, I'm here," you called out.

"Come in doll, I've been waiting," he responds and you did. Slowly twisting the door nob and quickly making your way inside his office. When you close the door behind you and turn around, there he was sitting around his desk with a glass of dry whiskey in his hand swirly around. Piercing blue eyes staring at you as you slowly made your way over to him.

"What's wrong?" You ask him, taking note of the scowl that was currently present on his face. "Is everything alright with you?"

You were patiently waiting for a response, your hand rubbing up and down your arm as you stare down at him with worry. However, instead of receiving kinder response or maybe an explanation, he instructed you, "Take of your clothes and bend over the desk. I would rather much talk to your pussy instead of answering your questions."

In times like these you would scold him and demand for him to provide with an answer. But not today! Something just felt completely off about him today. So you obeyed him, like the good pretty wife that you are and stripped naked, kicking off your shoes as well before bending over his desk, spreading your legs in the process too.

You only see his hand place the glass of whiskey in front of you before moving to open up his drawer to pull out a lube he keep in there for times like these. He wasted no time, loosing his tie, popping open a few if not all the button on his work shirt as well as unbuckling his belt, dropped it on the floor, then unzipping his pants and quickly pulled out his already erect cock.

"I'm going to be rough with you ok," he said to you as he squirts some of the lube on your pussy and also on his cock. He didn’t want to waste any more precious time. He wasted enough for the day, all he wanted to do right now is to sink his cock into your hole and pound your pussy beyond its limits. "I'm going to be so fucking rough with you."

"I can take it Satoru, so go on ravish me all you want," you said in an understanding too that just turns him on even more now.

He strokes his cock, hoist on of your leg on the table before resting one hand in the middle of your back, and the other pressing the fat tip at your weeping entrance. "Forgive me," he says before sinking into you, stuffing your precious cunt full of his cock. And you husband did not waste a sec more before pulling his hips back and slamming into you with one sharp thrust, almost knocking the very soul out of you.

"Fuck, baby... ugh Satoru," you moan out from his harsh painfully yet pleasure thrust.

"Just what I need after that stressful fucking meeting," he moaned. "They stressed me fuck out, with the marketing and sales department fuck shit, I just had to call my wife, so that she can relive me of my stress with this fucking pussy right," he mutters, pulling your hips back to meet his harsh thrust. The skin your ass swelling too and your pussy burning red from his harsh thrust and he's not going to stop now, not anytime soon.

And now here you both are two fucking long hours of your husband fucking your pussy raw over the desk, in his chair and now here your are again, laying flat on your back thing time with your legs bent all the way back to your chest and your messy pussy, filled with his cum and yours on display and he continued to fuck your hole out.

He's so focused on busting a nut inside your pussy, yet again, he completely forget another cooperate meeting with a few of the board if directors that started fifteen minutes. But not for long though because in came bursting into his office, his secretary and both managers and there secretary from the sales and marketing departments.

"Oh... oh... oh," they all said in union, eyes widening at the scene that is before them. Their boss, holding his wife in the most scandalous position and he roughly pounds away in your cunt.

"Satoru... darling..." You said, panicking, upon realizing that five men we're currently inside your husband's office, watching as he degrades your body in the most shameful and disrespectful way possible. "Satoru, stop people are watching..."

"Shut up," he says to, slapping his hand over your mouth, before turning to look the five men up and down then turning his attention back to you. "Don't speak, you were being such a good girl for me, keeping that pretty mouth of your occupied with only sounds of my name and your precious moans. Right, now go on moan as loud as you can for me."

And of course you followed through with his request, despite a set of ten eyes that were currently watching you being tamed and controlled by your husband.

Still stunned, by what's going on, they continued to watch on until Gojo yelled, "Get the fuck out of my fucking office. Can't you see if busy fucking my wife. Get out, all of you."

"But... but sir the mee..."

"I said get the FUCK OUT OF... ugh fuck fuck... MY OFFICE."

With that said, they all rushed out his office. All traumatized and cock hard from the sight that was before time.

And as they all walked away from the office to go and attend the meeting, to inform the BOD's that the meeting as been canceled due to unforeseen circumstances, they could hear you loudly moaning Gojo’s name and him grunting as he spoke, "Look at how much cum fills up your pussy, your better take every drop, just so you can get round and swollen with out fourth child."

#gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru

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heavndoll · 4 months ago

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𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

pairings — catholic!fem reader and eddie munson

summary — you're a good catholic girl. always have been — even though you're dating eddie munson, who's the complete opposite of that. he's crude and vulgar, and his influence may just taint you entirely.

warnings tags — adult language. mentions of religion, talks of god. eddie hates god, but has a god kink. major blasphemy. reader has daddy issues. mentions of jason craver (ew i know). graphic details of smut: loss of virginity (virgin!reader) + corruption. oral (eddie receiving). f!ngering. slight degrading but more praise. wrong usage of a rosary.

Eddie Munson was merely the Devil in your parents eyes.

To you, he was the seventh heaven.

Crossing paths with him was not a mistake, but a blessing. Eddie took care of you, and loved you. He really loved you.

You met him through a friend who went to Hawkins with him, and you couldn’t perceive him as a bad boy, whatsoever. He was genuine and kind the second you and him met, asking questions about you that no other guy ever had done.

But you knew he was not the guy you could bring home to your parents. Your parents were aware of him, since your father was a Sheriff for the Hawkins department, and always got reports of him.

You couldn’t tell them about your infatuation for Eddie, and how your heart burned for him, belonged to him. You were more faithful to Eddie Munson than you were to your Catholicism, and for you to say that to your parents, would earn you a kick to church camp.

You couldn’t say that their sweet little girl was in love with Hawkins’ freak; that he had told her many ways he wanted to deprive her of innocence and purity; that he dreamed of her worshiping him under her cross.

And you dreamed of that, every Sunday, for the past many month.

You sat in between your father and mother as the Priest read from the bible, and you fiddled with the ending hem of your white, babydoll dress. You stared mindfully at the cross, your head drawing the image of Eddie taking your virginity, rupturing your virtue, right underneath it.

You did feel a bit of guilt when you thought such lewd things, and you did blame Eddie for it. You felt even worse thinking of them in church, where you were supposed to be devoting your love and soul to the Lord, not a wild man.

“Hebrews 13:4 says, ‘Marriage is to be held in honor among all, and the marriage bed is to be undefiled; for fornicators and adulterers God will judge’”, the Priest spoke confidently, eyes glancing up to everyone for a second.

You swallowed thickly, fingers gripping tightly on your dress.

What the fuck, Jesus, you thought to yourself. I’m a fucking eighteen year old, of course I want to fornicate!

“Sweet dear,” your mother whispered, and you looked at her. “You look unwell. Are you okay?”

“Do you mind if I take a moment outside?” You wondered, brows drawing upwards. “It feels stuffy. Just for a minute, please.”

She sighed heavily, shaking her head. “Very well, then. Be quiet, dear.”

You thanked her, standing up, and quickly — but quietly — dismissed yourself out of the building, pushing open the wooden doors. The second you were outside, you groaned, the doors swinging close behind you.

“I’m damned for Hell,” you mumbled, rubbing your temple in frustration.

“So am I,” you heard a voice come from the side of you. You spin your head, finding Eddie there, smoking a cigarette. “For smoking of the Lord’s sacred grounds.”

“Eddie,” you sighed in relief, walking up to him, and he brought you into his embrace. He kissed the side of your head, before pulling back. “What are you doing here? If my parents — or anyone — sees you, they will make a fret out of it!”

Eddie chuckled. “Is that so?”

“I’m serious, Eds,” you frowned, throwing a small, playful slap to his shoulder. “We don’t need a scene.”

“Ah, I know, angel,” he cooed, kissing your forehead for assurance. “I just needed to see you. Was wondering what you are doing tonight?”

“I have homework, and finish my project on the Betrayal of Judas tonight,” you explained, annoyed at the mere thought of it. “It’s going to take all night. Why do you ask?”

“I wanted you to come by my trailer tonight,” Eddie said, and you smiled, but upset you had to decline his suggestion. “But it’s okay. I’m going to pick you up after school tomorrow, okay?”

“If Sister Josie sees you, she will report you to my parents,” you warned, and he only barked a laugh, throwing his head back. “I do not want to be sent to a camp because I was caught with you, Eds.”

“If your parents did that, I’d kidnap you,” Eddie stated, and you rolled your eyes, shooting a look at the church’s doors, eyes retreating back into his shortly after. “Go on in, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow, and we can do something fun.”

You raised a brow. “Like what?”

“Anything you wanted,” Eddie promised, giving your chin a soft pinch. “Be good for me, yeah?”

You hummed, and nodded. “Bye, Eds,” you gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he watched you walk all the way back into the church.

You hurried back to your row, perching yourself back in between your parents.

“Feel better?” Your mother asked.

You inhaled sharply. “Much better.”

Your fork poked at the vegetables that sat on your dinner plate, your eyes boring into it. It was always quiet on Sunday dinners, and you never said anything, unless your parents did.

Your mother poured herself another glass of red wine, and your father glanced at you, then his wife. “Got another report today about that Munson boy,” your father cracked the perfect quiet, and was visibly angered. “He’s been seen graffiting near Lovers Lake.”

“And who is reporting that?” Your mother questioned, sipping her beverage.

“Probably that ass kisser, Jason,” you mumbled, and your father slammed his hands down on the table.

“LANGUAGE!” Your father bellowed, and you dropped your fork onto your plate, slouching back into your chair. “Jason is a good boy. A good son of the Lord, and that’s the kind of guy you need in your life.”

“Jason literally tried to kiss me at the eighth grade school dance,” you recalled, scoffing. “Without my consent, may I add!”

“Well you two were children then,” your mother said, and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s a lovely boy. His friends are lovely too!”

You purse your lips. “His friends are dumb fucks.”

Okay, so maybe Eddie really did have a bad influence on you. Because you would never — for the love of God — curse in front of your parents, until now.

“What’s with the mouth?” Your father asked, and you glared at him. “You ought to pray tonight to the Lord tonight.”

“I’m just growing up, daddy,” you mocked, standing up from the dinner table, and threw your napkin on top of your plate. You stormed out of the dining room, straight into your bedroom, slamming your bedroom door behind you.

You dropped your body onto your bed, stuffing your face into your pillow. You wanted to scream and kick every object in your room, but refused not to do such a thing.

You were fine with laying on your bed, and smothering yourself with a pillow, until you heard gentle knocks at your window. You jolted up, your head craning toward the sound, and peeked at the window.

And you found Eddie, standing right outside your window.

You cursed under your breath, and stalked over to your window, snapping it open. Eddie smiled at the sight of you, though he could tell you were mystified by his unnoticed appearance.

“Do you want to kidnap me that badly?” You wondered, and he chuckled breathily, shrugging. “You can’t be here right now. My dad and I got into this fight.”

“About me, I suppose?” Eddie asked, allowing himself to jump into and through your bedroom window, and you didn’t stop him. “I know how your daddy likes to talk about me.”

“He said I should be with Jason, or someone like him,” you said, and he closed your bedroom window. “Because he is a son of the Lord.”

“Or the fucking Devil,” Eddie joked, and you snickered, but agreed. “I wonder what your dad would think if he knew you were with me, hm?”

“He would take his shotgun to you,” you admitted, and Eddie took a look around your bedroom. “Anyway, you can stay for a bit, but my father demands I pray for cursing.”

“Their little girl suddenly has a mouth of dirt?” Eddie teased, and you slapped his arm, which he laughed at. “Have I finally corrupted their innocent daughter?”

“Shut it, Munson,” you snapped, and he leaned against your desk, his eyes casting down at your Bible that sat on top of it.

“How about you pray right now? I won’t say a thing,” Eddie suggested, and you raised a brow, tilting your head. “You need to get it over with, anyway. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“You want to watch me pray?” You asked.

“It’d be nice, ya’know?” Eddie grinned, and he could tell you were completely gullible to what he was getting at. “Maybe I could learn a thing or two.”

You considered it, and simply agreed, walking up next to him. You grabbed your bible, and opened it up as you made your way over to your bed, kneeling at the end of it. Your knees brushed against your carpet-like flooring, looking up at your cross.

“Wait, Eds,” you paused, and he was already giving you your pink rosary. You thanked him, wrapping it around your fingers, and held it tightly in your hand.

Your cross hung right above your bed, right in the middle of your room, and your attention diverted from him, to the Bible.

Eddie simply watched and witnessed you speak and pray, and he felt sick for getting aroused to this pure sight of you, pleading for forgiveness from a man who supposedly ruled the Earth. He wanted to touch you, for his hands to memorize and caress every curve of your body.

His eyes unpeeled that baby pink tank top you wore, then went to your white, soft sweatpants. He wondered how it’d be like for you to plead and worship him in front of the Lord as he made you call him your God.

Maybe that was an awful, crude dream to play in his head, but he wanted to have your devotion turn to him, not the Lord.

The Lord couldn’t love and care for you the way he did.

Eddie went over to your bedroom door, and locked it, seeing how focused you were on the pages of pure fiction.

He kneeled behind you, and wrapped an arm around your torso, your body shuddering. He brought you closer to him, planting an innocent kiss on your shoulder.

“Eddie, I’m praying,” you pouted, setting your Bible down for a moment. “You said you wouldn’t disrupt.”

“Just keep going, love,” he mumbled, his tip of his nose brushing against your skin. “Keep praying.”

You rolled your eyes and did so, continuing to recite every word from the pages.

Eddie’s lips made their way to the nape of your neck, getting the sweet scent of your perfume. “What a good girl,” he whispered, his hot breath sending a symphony of shivers along your body. “Doing anything to stay pure and good.”

You nearly faltered, your concentration weakening. His hand trailed to your stomach, resting on your abdomen.

Eddie had touched you before, but not fully — not under your clothes. He even afforded to show you how to touch yourself, but Sister Tina from your school said you’d be banished to Hell for such a thing; so that set enough fear in.

Now, you craved for him to touch him. You didn’t know why in this particular moment — out of every heated, lusting moment — you wanted to feel him, to take you apart, and taint every part of your body, and brain.

You began to stutter as you spoke, Eddie’s hand crawling under your sweatpants, grazing over your clothed area. “Do you think the Lord wants me to touch you?” He taunted, and you hummed, your hands grasping harshly onto both sides of the Bible. “What do you think?”

“Eddie,” you managed to breathe out. “Eddie.”

“I want him to watch me take his devoted angel,” Eddie continued, his fingers creeping into your underwear, and your body flinched the second his fingers pressed against your bud. “Show him that he is no protector.”

You nodded, and Eddie grinned, resting his chin onto your shoulder.

You wanted Eddie. You needed Eddie.

“Keep reading, or I’ll stop,” Eddie warned, and you couldn’t hold onto a single thought as his middle finger curled into your unripe cunt. You moaned, squeezing your eyelids shut to the feeling of it. It was a single fucking finger in you, and you felt like pure bliss.

Eddie continued to pump the individual finger in you, slowly and surely as you tried to read more.

Everything was going smoothly, until a knock hit against your bedroom door.

Your father barked your name, you and Eddie freezing up. “Honey, why is your door locked?” Your father asked, shaking the doorknob. “Are you okay?”

Eddie smirked, his ring finger joining his middle, both pumping into a picked up pace.

“I–I’m praying!” You announced, trying to hold back your noises. “I wanted to pray in privacy, talk to the Lord!”

“Oh,” your father spoke from the other side of the door. “I’m glad to hear that, sweetie. I just wanted to say, you know I’m just looking out for you, right?”

Eddie’s fingers struck an unknown, but euphoric, spot in you, and you choked down a loud moan. “Yeah, daddy! I know that,” you responded, throwing your head back onto Eddie’s shoulder, and the Bible collapsed to the side of you.

Eddie chuckled quietly, using his free hand to wrap onto your throat. “What a filthy girl,” he whispered into your ear, grasping onto your neck.

“There’s bad guys out there, like Eddie Munson,” your father said, and Eddie wanted to bark a laugh. “If you were to be with a boy like that, I’d lose it. Boys only want one thing, and you know that.”

Another noise was lodged in your throat, Eddie having to squeeze your throat as a warning.

“I know, I know! Now, can I continue praying, please?” You asked, and Eddie’s finger shoved into you faster, and harder.

“Yes, of course! Your mother and I are heading to the Martins for a bit,” he acknowledged, and you had to slam your own hand over your mouth. “We should be back no later than 11. Be good!”

You kept your hand over your mouth until you heard the front door slam shut, and the second they did, you freed all your noises. Your chest heaved, your body becoming pudding against Eddie’s.

A hot sensation hit your stomach, and you found pleasure in it. It was an unfamiliar, enjoyable feeling. Your thighs trembled, and Eddie took a quick note to it, noticing how you were barely adjusting to this. “Are you going to cum?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with confusion.

“Cum?” You repeated.

“Does it feel like your stomach is on fire?” Eddie asked, his fingers making themselves deeper into your core, and you nodded. “That means you’re at your climax, love. That you are going to cum. It’s very normal.”

You still had a lot to learn, and Eddie was glad enough to teach you it all.

“Just let it go, sweetheart. Let it be free,” he cooed, and you hummed, your body convulsing the second your climax poured out of you, nearly dropping to the floor. He kept you up and close to him, and you panted, swallowing thickly.

Eddie’s fingers disappeared out of you, removing his hand completely from you. He placed his two fingers in his mouth, getting the sweet taste of you, and nearly moaned. “You taste fucking divine.”

You blushed, and eyed your Bible, picking it up. “I think I got enough forgiveness,” you joked, and Eddie hummed, helping you stand up with him. “I just…”

“Hm?” Eddie wondered, taking the Bible from you, and rested it on your desk. “What is it, sweet girl?”

“I want,” your voice quavered, your head hanging low in embarrassment. “I want more.”

Eddie placed his finger under your chin, bringing your head up to look him directly in the eye. “You want more? You have to be more specific, love,” Eddie mused, and you whimpered. “Use your words, please.”

“I want you to touch me more,” you only knew how to say it like that. Just paraphrase it in that way. “I want you to fuck me?”

“Is that a question or statement?” Eddie jested, and you whined more, embarrassed. “I’m kidding, sweet girl. I know what you mean, but are you sure?”

You nodded, smiling in confidence.

Eddie tugged you closer to his body, his lips smothering yours, and his hands laid on your hips, squeezing them gently. Your arms looped around his neck, holding him close to you, your body aching for him.

He led you over to your bed, sitting down onto it as you straddled his lap. Your hands cupped his cheeks, your rosary brushing against his skin, and you could feel him smile on your lips.

His lips fell off of yours, and he stripped off his upper half clothing, dropping them to your floor. Your eyes widened to the view of his body, his abs perfectly toned, and your finger drew around the tattoos he had on the left side of his chest.

“I like this tattoo,” you giggled at the Demon and spider tattoos, and he smiled, kissing the side of your head. “But I will always like your puppetmaster tattoo a lot more.”

“Gotta get you a tattoo one day,” Eddie said, and you shook your head. “Get you a pretty tattoo, just like mine, yeah?”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, and he hummed, his fingers hooking under your shirt. You let him take it off of you, undoing your bra by yourself. You hesitantly shimmed off your bra, the straps sliding down your arms, and onto your lap.

You put it on the ground with the other clothes, and you didn’t stare at Eddie as his eyes gawked at your breasts. You were insecure and worried – he was the first guy to ever see your bare body.

Panic slowly rolled in. “Is it okay? Am I okay?”

“Baby,” Eddie breathed, looking up at you, and then at your breasts. “You are so beautiful. This body, all mine to touch and mark.”

Your worries washed away, Eddie planting loving kisses on your breasts.

“Your body is fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, captivated and enthralled by your gracious beauty. “All fucking mine.” He carefully laid you on your back, on the bed, and hovered over you, his lips falling back onto yours. His body rutted against yours, hands at the waistband of your sweatpants,

“Take them off, Eds,” you breathed into the kiss, and his taste was gone for a moment as he listened, stripping off your sweatpants. You were left in your white cotton panties, and he took a second to unbuckle his belt, and then his pants, both landing on the ground.

You and Eddie were only left in your underwear, and you could feel a hard bulge brush against your inner thigh.

Oh, you thought to yourself. That.

“Are you sure you’re ready, doll?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with assuring, doe eyes, and he kissed your forehead. He reached over to his pants, grabbing his wallet from it, and pulled out a small wrapper from it.

You shivered, and your eyes bored into Eddie as he took off his boxers, and you tensed the second you glimpsed at his cock.

You were about to pray to God again, due to the overwhelmingly huge size of Eddie.

Eddie opened up the wrapper, taking out the condom, and slipped it on. You took off your panties and kicked them off, throwing your rosary too, seeing how they joined all other clothing items on the floor.

“It’s going to hurt at first; if you want me to stop, just say so,” Eddie said, and one of his hands held onto yours for comfort as his other was used to guide him into you. You could feel the head of him at your cunt, and you squeezed his hand whilst his cock made its way into you, slowly and bit by bit.

Your back arched, gasping aloud to the feeling of him fulfilling you. Eddie’s hand grasped onto your jaw, holding onto it, forcing you to hold eye contact with him. “Just take me, love,” he mused, and you whimpered in response.

You were being easily stretched and torn apart by his cock, your virtue draining out of you with every brush of him coming in and out of you. You continued to hold onto his hand, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand for assurance you were safe.

Eddie kept a steady, delicate pace, taking a clear eye to how you were already in shambles. He was simply dispossessing you of your longing purity, your body and devotion belonging to him now.

This was Seventh Heaven to you — this was all of the joy and exhilaration you longed for.

Your cunt adjusted to his size, and your hand let go of him, setting both of them onto his shoulders. “More, Eddie. Please,” you pleaded, and he began to drill himself deeper into you, his hands pressing onto your stomach for support.

You squealed, his eyes on the way his cock thrusted into you. Your body elevated upwards, and your glossy eyes caught a glance of the cross above your bed.

If this corruption was so cruel, so vile, why did it feel so fucking amazing?

Flares of euphoria spurred throughout your body as wanton, lewd noises elicited out of your mouth, and filled your bedroom. Embers of pure, raw desire were in Eddie’s eyes the second they fell back into yours, his breath shuddering his rib cages.

A firestorm grew in your stomach, and your nails dug into Eddie’s shoulder, earning a harsh moan out of him. “‘M gonna cum,” you told him, your chest falling up and down rapidly. “I need to cum, Eds.”

“What a sensitive whore you are,” he taunted, and you groaned, the fire spreading into your thighs. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for your God.”

Your lids sealed shut as your climax peaked and rushed out of you, your body moving with a hard jolt to it. Eddie nearly laughed mockingly at you, your delicate, unripe body, now sweating and shaking from sinful sex.

You barely had collected the fact Eddie referred to him as your God, but you didn’t hate it.

You liked it.

“I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth,” Eddie said, and helped you sit up as he took off the condom. “I always told you I’d find a way for you to worship me. Get on your knees, angel.”

Eddie tossed his condom into your trash bin, turning his attention back onto you.

You obeyed, and stumbled to your bedroom floor, collapsing down onto your knees. Eddie seized your rosary, and took the opportunity to tie up your wrists with the symbolized jewelry. You whined, tugging at your hostaged wrists.

“Open your mouth for me,” Eddie said, standing in front of you. Your mouth popped open, and he shoved two fingers into your mouth, creeping them to the back of your throat. You gagged the second his fingers hit your throat, your eyes watering.

You stared up at him with pure and pious eyes, that were almost daunting, too.

“How are you going to be able to take my cock, when you can barely take my fingers, angel?” He asked, and a tear trickled down your cheek. He was amused by this single tear. “You worship me?”

You nodded as his fingers left your mouth, his knuckles brushing along your cheek. “Yes, I worship you. Only you,” you assured, giving the edge of his palm a delicate, small kiss. “You’re my religion.”

He chuckled. “Such a good little thing you are.”

Eddie’s fingers curled into your hair, nails scratching against your scalp. His hips pushed forward, his cock stuffing your opened mouth.

You remembered your friend told you about blowjobs — that you make sure your teeth don’t touch, or it makes it unpleasant. Your friend wasn’t as faithful or pure as you were, only going to Catechism to please her parents.

Eddie’s cock continuously hit the back of your throat, drawing inchorenet gargles from you as tears lined at the brim of your eyes. Your throat was brutalized, yet you soaked into the pain of it, taking pleasure in every second of it.

Your eyes rolled back the deeper his cock went, his teeth gritting together, and moaned your name like a mantra.

Eddie’s head fell back, his hips snapping into your face, and you gurgled, trying your best to breathe out of your nostrils. “Shit, shit, I’m close,” he told you, and that was the only warning you were given, nothing else. “Keep your mouth steady and open for your God, baby.”

His climax flooded into your mouth, your tongue getting a salty taste of his high, and he pushed his cock out of your mouth. He tried to catch his breath, sweat beading at his forehead and body, his fingers unhooking from your hair.

“Let me see, doll,” Eddie said, and you happily showed him the way his cum sat on your tongue. “Mhm, that’s a good girl. Swallow it.”

You closed your mouth, taking it all down at once, and he kissed the top of your head. He unknotted the rosary, and your wrists were glad to be free.

Eddie sat the jewelry on your bed stand, and helped you up, sitting you down on your bed afterwards. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He panicked, and you shook your head, a few strands of your hair matted to your teary, sweating cheeks.

“Did I do okay?” You asked, and he frowned, cupping your cheeks, caressing them lovingly with his thumbs.

“You were wonderful, sweet girl. So good,” he reassured, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and dressed. You still have that project.”

You groaned, barely remembering it. “Oh fuck!”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff

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wheeboo · 5 months ago

Text

just a roommate thing | kim mingyu

SYNOPSIS. in which playful flirting between you and your roommate has always been the norm, but how does that help with how you really feel towards him? PAIRING. kim mingyu x gn!reader (ft. seokmin) GENRE. fluff, humour?, roommates (and prob idiots) to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, slightly suggestive, just... flirting?, reader is shorter than him, mingyu is shirtless, reader is referred as "princess" once, mentioned that reader is wearing makeup, reader dislikes pizza for the sake of plot sorry to my pizza lovers HAHAHA, reader is gender neutral but they briefly compare themselves to another girl, kissing WORD COUNT. 5.2k

requested by anon: Hii, I wanna request a Mingyu fic where him and reader are roomies and they’re very lovey dovey ig but “jokingly”. But then reader is like trying to go on dates and stuff and Mingyus jealous💀 idk man

notes: this was actually a random request that i started months ago and suddenly decided i wanted to finish RIGHT NOW when i was scrolling thru drafts. no idea if the anon who sent this remembers this but um... yeah ! lowk turned out a bit of a mess i think this plot sounded better in my head, enjoy nonetheless :')

You like to think that being roommates with Kim Mingyu is both a blessing and a curse.

You used to believe that having your very first roommate straight up abandon you at the very beginning of the semester was something you could pull off with, because you'd rather be living alone than living with someone you can hardly vibe with. It worked for a while, until the housing department paired you with Kim Mingyu: tall, obnoxiously handsome, ridiculously muscular for seriously no goddamn reason at all, annoyingly charming, and a goofy smile that could light up a room.

Any person would probably kill to be in your place right now, but sometimes you think you'd rather trade places with the pigeons outside your window. Mingyu wasn't a bad roommate𑁋far from it, actually. He kept the apartment spotless, never hogged the bathroom, and even cooks mean late-night ramen whenever you both are drowning in deadlines.

But the problem was, Mingyu was also excruciatingly touchy. Not in a creepy way, but more like a human koala bear who couldn't seem to function without some form of physical contact. Whether it was ruffling your hair as you walked past him, casually draping his arm over your shoulder while watching a movie together, or sneaking up behind you to give you a surprise bear hug while you cooked, there was a line between friendly and... something more.

It was comfortable, almost too comfortable. You told yourself it was just a roommate thing, just a Mingyu thing𑁋that you were both really good friends who happened to be a little more affectionate than most. But you seriously want to smack his head sometimes. And maybe your own too, even if you secretly like the attention. Because deep down, you know there's nothing casual about the way you feel about Mingyu.

But lately, for God's sake, you don't know how much more you can handle.

"Need any help with that?" Mingyu's voice snatches your attention from your aimless stirring of some cookie dough, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull.

Here he is. Kim Mingyu in all his glory𑁋shirtless with a towel in-hand dabbing at his dripping strands of hair, his tan skin glistening with droplets of water from the shower. You try your best to keep your gaze focused on the cookie dough in front of you, trying to ignore the way his damp hair sticks to his forehead and how the sight of his abs are practically boring into your soul, but that's easier said than done.

Your throat tightens, and you let out a cough.

"Yeah, um...." You let your eyes drift down to the plain-looking batter of cookie dough in front of you. "Can you grab some chocolate chips from the pantry?"

Mingyu just raises a brow, throwing the towel over his shoulder. "Sure thing, princess."

You feel your cheeks burn unpleasantly at the playful nickname, and you mutter a quick thanks as he saunters past, the scent of his shampoo trailing behind him. You focus back on stirring, trying to ignore the pounding in your chest and the way your fingers fumble against the spoon.

He returns with a bag of chocolate, and as he leans over to pour some into the bowl, your arms brushing lightly. A jolt shoots through you, and you almost drop the spoon. He pauses, eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before you get yourself back to mixing the dough again.

"Here, let me help you," Mingyu offers, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches over to try to grab the spoon from your grasp. You can practically feel the warmth of his body radiating through his bare arm.

You let out a scoff, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. "I can handle it, Gyu."

He just chuckles, and the sound seems to send shivers down your spine.

"Nonsense," he insists adamantly, tone playful but there's a pinch of softness in there too. "Two hands are twice as fast, right?"

You roll your eyes in slight annoyance, but a small smile tugs at your lips nonetheless.

"More like twice as messy." Yet you end up surrendering the spoon to him anyway, because simply saying no to him is a strenuous thing to do over anything else. His hand meets yours halfway, fingers touching against your knuckles as he snatches the whisk from your hands.

The heat from his hand lingers even after he pulls away, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze from him, mesmerised by the way his biceps flex, the way his hair falls in messy dark strands across his forehead, the way his lips curve as he focuses on whisking in a way that's both infuriating and endearing.

But amidst this, you can't help but feel the nagging feeling settling at the pit of your stomach.

"So, what's the occasion?" Mingyu's voice interrupts your thoughts, pulling you back to reality.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard by the question. "Huh?"

Mingyu chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I mean, you don't usually bake cookies on a random Wednesday night. Is there something special going on?"

You swallow, feeling your mind draw a blank, trying to come up with a nonchalant answer. "Oh, you know... just felt like baking."

Mingyu just scoffs, clearly not buying your words. "Come on, Y/N. You're a terrible liar."

God, how can he always see right through you? Does he have some sort of sixth sense? And yet, even despite the discomfort of being so transparent, there's a strange sense of comfort in knowing that Mingyu can see you for who you truly are, except for the one thing you want him to notice about you.

"Fine." You give in, running a slightly frustrated hand through your hair. "It's... Seokmin."

For just a single, most miniscule moment, Mingyu pauses.

"Seokmin?"

You swear you can feel your feet sinking into quicksand. "The guy from my history class, remember? He... uh, I asked him out the other day."

Mingyu's whisking slows down as he processes your words, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes. But before you can dwell on it further, he masks it with a faint smirk.

"You asked him out?" he asks, as if still trying to wrap his head around it.

"Yeah, I..." You seriously want to sew your mouth shut right now. "I thought I would, um, you know... put myself out there for once."

You watch as Mingyu throws another handful of chocolate chips into the batter, a little more forcefully this time, the clatter against the metal bowl echoing in the sudden silence. You find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from the way his jaw clenches and unclenches.

"So," he continues, seemingly unfazed. "what did he say?"

You hesitate, watching as his hands work the dough, mind whirling with confusion and caution.

"He... um, he said yes."

"Huh," Mingyu murmurs, tone teasing. "And here I thought I was the only one who got to enjoy your company."

His words jab at your heart, a pang of guilt twisting around in your stomach, but you try to brush it off with a forced chuckle.

"You know you're irreplaceable, Gyu."

Mingyu's gaze flickers to yours, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of... something in his eyes. But before you can decipher it, he offers you a tight-lipped smile, the kind that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Right," he replies casually. "I'm glad you think so."

Mingyu is wearing one of your hoodies.

Sure, you've worn a couple hoodies and sweatshirts that he has given to you out of practicality as they were really oversized and comfortable. But here, in the middle of your kitchen, highlighted under the warm glow of the overhead light and the aroma of cooked ramen, seeing Mingyu draped in your favourite oversized, white hoodie felt awfully intimate, and it brings that overwhelming flutter to your chest.

"Hey," he greets you when you walk in. "How was the date?"

You can still hardly believe what you're seeing right now, gaze staring at the way the fabric seems to cling at this broad frame, and your own lips doesn't seem to be functioning correctly.

"It was, uh... it was good," You manage to stammer out, feeling heat creep up your cheeks and forcing your gaze away from the way Mingyu rolls up his sleeves. "He liked the cookies."

"He liked the cookies?" Mingyu raises an amused brow, leaning against the counter with a casual ease that throws your already flustered mind into further disarray.

You shrug, feeling like your burying yourself down into an inescapable hole. "Yeah, he did. We, uh, had a meal at the park, talked for a while, the usual stuff, you know."

Some silence stretches between you, filled with the soft sizzle of the ramen and the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. You watch the way Mingyu twirls the noodles around a pair of chopsticks, before shutting off the heat of the stove.

"Are you wearing my hoodie?" You ask as he's taking a sip of the soup, the question tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop it. "I swear I've been looking for that one for ages."

Mingyu looks down at himself as if he remembering what he's wearing, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips, and he scratches the back of his neck in a gesture that's so uniquely him𑁋it makes your heart ache.

"I... forgot to do my laundry, and it was the first thing I could find," he admits, then takes a sip of the ramen, eyes meeting yours briefly before dropping back down to the bowl. "Looks comfy on me, though, doesn't it?"

He wasn't wrong. It usually engulfed you, but it hung loosely on Mingyu's bigger frame, the sleeves pushed up past his elbows to reveal his strong forearms.

"Well," You say, clearing your throat. "I wouldn't mind having it back, actually. It's my favourite."

"Yeah?" he tests playfully, raising a mischievous eyebrow. "I don't know, it looks pretty good on me."

You watch as he flexes his arm playfully, making the fabric of the hoodie stretch across his bicep. You can't help but let out a small, choked laugh, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest despite yourself.

"Oh, come on," You fret, trying to keep your voice light. "You got plenty of hoodies, dude."

But Mingyu just takes another casual sip of his ramen, his expression calm.

"Maybe," he says finally. "But this one smells good. It smells like you."

You freeze up. It smells... like me? Well, obviously, it fucking does𑁋

"Just bring it back to me when you're done with it," You say almost lamely, unsure if you wanted to laugh or flee to your room and hide.

"I mean, if you want it so bad I can take it off right no𑁋"

"No! Don't do that. Oh my gosh," You shoot a glare towards him, pursing your lips together tightly at the sight of him reaching for the ends of the hoodie like he was actually about to take it off... right in front of you. "You know what? I'm tired. Goodnight."

You're already marching off to your room in the middle of Mingyu bringing another mouthful of ramen into his mouth.

"Hey!" he calls out to you, nearly spitting out noodles in the process. "Where's my goodnight hug?"

You freeze at that in the middle of your doorway. Seriously, are you really in this deep to the point that you've made it a habit to hug each other before going to bed?

You hardly register Mingyu coming up from behind once you turn around to see him. His mouth is drooped into a pout, eyes half-lidded as he gazes at you expectantly. It’s ridiculous how effortlessly adorable he looks, and your need to be annoyed at him falters each passing second.

"Fine," You relent, stepping forward to give him a very brief, obligatory hug. But the moment you feel his strong arms wrap around you even more, you know it’s not going to be a quick one.

Mingyu’s warmth seeps through the layers of your clothes and down to your core, and you find yourself relaxing against him, as if it was a natural response for your body to do. He squeezes you a little tighter, letting his chin resting lightly on top of your head. A low sigh escapes him.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

You close your eyes, only for a moment, letting yourself relinquish the way he holds you. It feels like everything you’ve been trying to ignore𑁋all laid bare in the simple act of a hug.

"Goodnight, Gyu."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look down at you, the features to his face softer than you’ve ever seen it. For a moment, you think he might say something more, because his lips seem to attempt at forming a word, yet nothing comes out. But then he simply smiles, and the seconds finally pass.

"Sleep well," he says quietly, releasing you reluctantly, and giving you a gentle pat on the head before heading back to the kitchen.

You have your next date with Seokmin a week later.

You told Mingyu ahead of time as well, and he reacted the same way as last time𑁋nonchalant, playful, a pinch of tease, an averted gaze down towards his phone, and simply bidding you with a have a good time. It was hard to tell if he was genuinely unbothered or if he was just playing it cool, and the thought sort of irked you the entire day.

After Seokmin dropped you off home, you find yourself standing in front of the door to your place, as if you're trying to laser a hole through it with your eyes. Yet you simply huff a breath, fumble with getting the keys out of your bag and inserting it into the keyhole, before stepping inside.

And the fresh smell of food hits you.

It's really hard to not acknowledge the fact that Mingyu is quite literally a living, breathing chef sleeping in the same apartment as you.

Mingyu turns his head around, noticing you standing in the doorway, and lets his gaze scan over you from head to toe. He could see the bits of extra effort you put into your appearance today that he wasn't able to see earlier as he was out. There was a pink colour that dusted over your cheeks of the blush you probably put, a bit of glimmer to your eyes from some eyeshadow, and your lips glossed with a soft sheen that catches the kitchen light just right.

"Hey," he lets out airily, watching you place your bag on the table. "How was the date?"

You run a hand through your hair. "It was... It was good. Seokmin's really nice. He took me to a pizza place."

Mingyu stills at that for a second, lifting a brow in question. "I thought you don't like pizza."

"Well, yeah, but I said it was fine so𑁋"

"If he was going to take you out on more dates, then he should know what kinds of places you don't like to eat."

"I said I was fine with it, Gyu," You retort a bit harshly, immediately regretting your tone in the silence that instantly engulfs the two of you. "We ended up having a good time anyway."

The sounds of something cooking reverberate throughout your shared place. You watch the way Mingyu stirs something in a large pot with a pair of chopsticks, before taking it out, blowing on it a few times, and taking it into his mouth for a brief taste test.

When he puts the chopsticks back down and kills the heat on the stove, he faces back to you with his hands placed firmly on the counter.

"Did you two do anything else?"

The smell of the food makes your stomach rumble quietly, but you attempt to conceal it with clearing your throat. "What do you mean?"

"Like..." Mingyu motions something with his hands and you could only peer at him quizzically. "Like have you𑁋"

"Are… Are you about to ask me if we kissed?" You nearly want to scoff at that. "Do I look like the kind of person that kisses on the second date?"

Mingyu just laughs, tilting his head to the side slightly. "I don't know. Do you?"

All you do is shrug your shoulders, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. "Well, no, we didn't kiss. We just... talked."

Mingyu seems to take in your words for a second, before nodding slowly. "Okay. That's... That's good."

The way he says it makes you feel a bit uneasy. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly acutely aware of how tired you are, both from the evening and from this conversation. Mingyu glances at you again, something apologetic forming in his eyes.

"Sorry," he says quietly. "I didn't mean to pry. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I know, it's... fine," You reply, though you're not sure if it is. "I'm just tired."

Mingyu gestures over to the pot on the stove. "I made some food if you're hungry."

You walk to the side of the kitchen where he's at, taking a peek inside the pot. "Is it...?"

"Yep!" Mingyu exclaims excitedly and steps up beside you, where you could practically feel his presence lingering right on your skin. "My signature jjajangmyeon. Your favourite."

Your stomach rumbles again, and you swear Mingyu hears it from the way his lips quirk up in a smirk down at you. You almost want to (affectionately) shove that expression off his face, but you don't, because his gaze toward you relaxes when you look back up at him. It's a look that feels familiar, comforting, and slightly intimidating all at once.

You feel your heart clench tightly in your chest.

"I'm starting to think," Seokmin starts, loudly slurping up his cup of boba tea. "that this is a very bad idea."

You grimly shove the straw through the plastic and take a long sip, the flavours from the drink bursting in your mouth as you do so. You hear the loud screech of Seokmin bringing his chair closer to the table.

"I'm starting to think it is too."

Seokmin's eyes widen. "You are?" Then he scoots himself closer to you almost pleadingly. "Does that mean you're gonna tell him?"

"I..." You mentally want to facepalm yourself right now. "I don't know."

"Y/N!"

"I know! I know! I'm a coward!" You bury your face in your arms for a moment, letting out a few muffled groans at the cold surface of the table. "We're literally roommates and it complicates everything! There are times where I feel like there's just something a little... more to us, you know? I mean, do you usually give goodnight hugs to your roommate?"

Seokmin snorts a little at that. "I don't think Minghao would like it if I did that to him."

"Okay, okay. Just𑁋If your roommate wasn't Minghao and someone you liked, would you give them goodnight hugs too?"

You could tell Seokmin is genuinely thinking about the question. His lips purse together in thought, his hand running over the sides of his cup.

"If I liked them, I'd probably find any excuse to be close to them. Like sharing food, doing little favours here and there, wanting to hug them and stuff like that..." Seokmin admits a bit bashfully. "Isn't that what he does to you?"

"Yes, and it's driving me absolutely bonkers. And he... He knows a lot about me, you know? We've had, like, late-night talks and stuff. I've never gotten close with any other person like that. He's just so... ugh!" You glance up at Seokmin with helpless eyes. "Sorry for dragging you into this mess, Seokmin."

Seokmin chuckles lightly. "Hey, I only agreed to be your fake boyfriend because I owed you for saving my grades in class. I didn't realise the extent of how bad this is."

You glare at him playfully at that, lightly swatting him on the arm, but Seokmin just manages to dodge it and swipe your cup of boba tea away from you.

"Okay, but, hypothetically speaking. Let's say he does like you..."

You snatch your drink back and take a long sip, catching a boba pearl between your teeth. "Mhm..."

"And I know the whole point of this was to see if he'll get jealous," Seokmin continues. "but let's say he does like you, wouldn't that mean you're kind of... playing with his feelings?"

Seokmin's words make you pause mid-sip. With the straw between your lips, you contemplate his question as you stare blankly at the swirling boba tea. Playing with Mingyu's feelings𑁋could that really be what you're doing? The whole fake dating plan had started as a test of sorts to see if Mingyu would show any signs of jealousy. But now, as you're sitting here with Seokmin, you're starting to think you might have fucked up a bit. Maybe a lot.

"Because I think from all the details that you told me and how he acts around you," Seokmin pauses and fixes up his posture, looking at you with a lighthearted yet serious expression. "it sounds like he likes you. And if he does, pretending to date me is just going to hurt him. Or confuse him. Or both."

Your mind races with Seokmin's words, and you feel a pang of guilt settling in your chest. "You think so?"

"I think it's pretty obvious, honestly."

"That's not reassuring at all."

"Well, you never know!" Seokmin exclaims. "Look, I'm no love expert. Maybe you two have been pining for each other the entire year but just don't have the guts to say anything about it. And if that's the case, you owe me another free meal, or a few them. You owe me another three free meals!"

You scoff at that before bringing the straw up to your mouth again, hoping that you could drink away the heat blooming within your face.

"Ugh, I'm getting headache𑁋"

"Isn't that Mingyu right there?"

You nearly spit out your drink at that, swearing you could hear the snap of your neck as you bring your head up to where Seokmin is looking with wide eyes. And low and behold, you spot Mingyu entering inside the boba shop.

He's not alone though; he's with a girl.

You feel your heart drop down to your feet as you watch them approach to the ordering counter. They seem comfortable with one another, even if you can't hear what they're saying, their easy smiles and relaxed body language twisting your insides into knots. Mingyu leans in slightly, saying something that makes the girl laugh, and you can't help but notice how effortlessly he charms her, just like he does with everyone.

A tap lands on your shoulder, and you face away to see Seokmin looking at you with worried eyes.

"Do you want to leave?" he mouths to you quietly.

You glance back toward Mingyu and the girl, and the second you see them turning in your direction, you shift uncomfortably in your seat, the chair letting out an earth-shattering squeak.

And you freeze up.

"Y/N?"

You slowly turn around to see Mingyu and the girl approach the table. The first thing you notice is how pretty she looks, her long, flowing hair showering down her shoulders in soft waves. There's a cheery, whimsical aura that you can sense from her, and that seems to be enough to convince yourself that's the kind of personality that Mingyu likes.

"Hey," Mingyu calls out to you again, a smile to his face once he realises it's really you. Briefly, however, his lips seem to straighten out when he shoots a glance toward Seokmin. "I didn't know the two of you came here for your date."

Seokmin laughs a bit too obviously. "Yeah, man, what a coinc𑁋"

"We were just leaving, actually." You swiftly grab Seokmin by the wrist, tugging him toward you. Then you offer nothing but an unsteady grin. "I'll see you later, Mingyu."

You drag Seokmin out of the shop before hearing whatever Mingyu was saying, your heart pounding like a damn drum in your chest. You don't look back until you're safely outside and a long distance away.

You let go of Seokmin's hand to catch your breath. And when you manage to pick yourself back up, Seokmin's already peering at you with an amused look.

"What was that?" he asks airily, arching up a single brow. "Did you just run away from your roommate?"

"Be quiet," You hiss back at him, attempting to shove him but failing miserably. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh, you hear that?" Seokmin taunts annoyingly, tapping his foot on the ground. "That's the sound of jealousy."

You gulp down a lump in your throat. He's right. You are jealous.

"Dammit," You curse to yourself. "The whole fake dating thing... It was stupid. I thought that, maybe, if Mingyu got jealous, it would mean something. But now, seeing him with that girl..."

"It hit you hard."

"Yeah," You finish simply. "It did."

"And so..." Seokmin lightly nudges you with his hip. "what will the answer be?"

You only narrow your eyes at him, and the resigned sigh that you let out afterwards is enough to send Seokmin's excitement into orbit.

"Yes!" He grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you relentlessly. "I'm getting free food!"

Hours pass, and the ache in your chest hasn't eased.

You find yourself melting into the couch, anxiously tugging the ends of your sleeves as you replay the scene over and over back at the boba place. This stupid plan really had backfired on you big time, like a slap to the face, a punch to the gut, a kick to the heart𑁋all in one go.

Every detail from the way Mingyu and that girl walked in together, the ease with which they interacted, and the pang you felt in your chest from how perfect they appeared right next to each other𑁋it all played on a loop in your mind. You knew now that you have to confront your feelings, but the thought of it makes your stomach twist into a pretzel.

There's some random show playing on the TV in front of you, but you could care less at paying attention to it. The apartment is still quiet since Mingyu wasn't back yet, and you could only clench your fists together in a suppressed fit of panic.

"You're an idiot," You scold yourself, closing your eyes tightly. "A complete idiot. How could you be so stupid𑁋"

A rattle at the locks on the door shuts you up, and maybe the world stops spinning too. You feel yourself sink more into the couch out of anticipation.

When the door swings open, Mingyu steps inside, and you hear the rustling sounds of plastic bags. He peers around the apartment for a moment, and when his eyes land on you, he visibly relaxes.

"Y/N?" Even knowing that he's here, his voice still seems to catch you off-guard every single time. "I brought some ice cream for𑁋"

"I'm not dating Seokmin."

The silence that follows is almost suffocating. Mingyu drops the bag of ice cream on top of the kitchen counter, his gaze still not leaving yours. He blinks a few times, as if processing what you just said.

"You're... not?"

You shake your head, a knot forming in your throat. This is it.

"No, Gyu, I'm not dating him," You clarify, tone more serious this time. "We never dated. It was all fake."

All Mingyu does is continue to stand there under the dim lighting of the kitchen light. You can hardly decipher the expression on his face; it was something between confusion and surprise. You try to catch for signs of disappointment, but when he steps a tad bit closer to you, your mind goes a bit haywire.

"Why?" he finally questions after what seems like an eternity.

You take in a deep breath. "I was... I was stupid, okay? I... I thought that if I could make you jealous, it would mean something. That it would mean..." There's a brief pause as you rekindle yourself. "...that you liked me too."

Mingyu's brows furrow slightly in confusion, and you can't tell if the situation is getting worser or not; if the room was getting hotter and your skin was at the point of boiling; if all of this was already tumbling down before your eyes.

"Look, I know we're roommates. But sometimes I think𑁋I feel like there's more to that. We always hug… and flirt, and I..." You purse your lips together as your tongue struggles to grasp the right words. "I like you, okay? I fell for your stupid smile, your stupid hugs, your stupidly good cooking skills. I fell for everything about you. And I couldn't tell you that because I was scared of fucking everything up."

The room seems to hold its breath as you finish speaking. You feel awfully vulnerable right now, like you've laid bare your heart and soul and every single one of your insecurities. Mingyu only remains still, his eyes with surprise. The silence stretches on, and you find yourself gathering your thoughts together as if sensing impending doom.

You let your shoulders slouch in defeat. "It's fine if you don't feel the same way, we could just𑁋"

"I was jealous."

"𑁋pretend all this never happened𑁋what?"

"Of course I was jealous, Y/N." Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, the action all too endearing. "I was stupid too. For not telling you. For not taking the chance when I could. I was jealous when you talked about Seokmin, but I was also a coward for not wanting to screw anything up.”

You could only knit your brows together dazedly, gazing up at him as if he's said a foreign language. "You... were jealous? What about... what about the girl from earlier?"

"She's just a classmate from my English class, and she's interested in one of my other friends. We just happened to cross paths and I offered to grab boba so I could help her with𑁋"

"Shut up," You suddenly say firmly, and Mingyu does immediately, his focused, half-lidded eyes boring down into yours with a look that sends a jump to your stomach. That was all that you need to hear.

He's practically looming above you. You don't recall how exactly he got closer to you but you have nothing in you to complain. If anything, your feet drag you closer toward him, close enough you're able to smell the faint scent of his cologne and perhaps hear the way his heart is beating just as fast as yours.

With one of your hands, you reach up slowly, letting your fingers toy carefully with the collar of his shirt as you search his eyes for any sign of hesitation. But Mingyu's gaze softens, probably like it always has when he's with you, his breath hitching slightly as your touch lingers on his shirt, curling more into the fabric.

Then your lips tug up into a faint smirk, and you pull him down just slightly.

"Don't make me regret this, Kim Mingyu," is all you say before closing the gap and pressing your mouth against his.

He nearly melts right there at the touch of your lips together, but it doesn’t take him long to be kissing you back with more desperation than you expected. His hands slowly draw down your sides, bringing you even further into his embrace. The briefest contact of the tips of his fingers under your shirt makes you tense.

“I won’t,” he whispers in between kisses. “I won’t.”

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