#never done a single bad thing in his life surely surely

[itendtothinkalot]

report heist!

summary: frustrated with your boss, you vent in a report, typing out everything you really wanted to say: how stupid, annoying, and foul he is. only problem? you forget to delete it before handing it in. now, you're stuck asking the office golden boy, soobin, for help. and of course... he's also the guy who loves to tease you. perfect timing, huh?

genre: fluff!!! a little suggestive!

characters: soobin x f!reader

words: 8k

warnings: suggestive!! kissing! soobin is a huge tease!!!!!!!!! very big tease!!!

Soobin had always been annoyingly perfect. The golden boy of the office—trusted by management, respected by colleagues, and somehow never making mistakes. If there was ever a crisis, people turned to him. If there was ever a project in chaos, he magically pulled it together.

You, on the other hand, were… not like that.

It wasn’t that you were bad at your job. You were just real about it. You got things done, but you also weren’t above rolling your eyes at pointless meetings or sighing dramatically when given extra work at 6 PM. And while everyone else treated Soobin like some workplace messiah, you saw him for what he really was—a smug, infuriating know-it-all.

Not that you two hated each other.

But you didn’t exactly get along either.

Your dynamic mostly consisted of him making some dry, borderline condescending comment, and you firing back with an exaggerated eye-roll or a sarcastic comeback. He’d smirk, you’d groan, and that was just how things worked. A never-ending cycle of teasing and bickering, neither of you willing to let the other win.

Soobin was predictable. Reliable. Annoyingly competent.

It was late, and the office was quieter than usual. You were at your desk, trying to focus on the report that had somehow become your life’s work for the past hour, when you heard his aggravating voice.

“Are you done, pretty?”

You froze for a moment, glancing up to see Soobin leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his trademark smirk playing at the corners of his lips. The nickname was nothing new.

Pretty. He’d been calling you that ever since you two had crossed paths at the office, and at first, you weren’t sure how to feel about it. It wasn’t exactly a compliment—it didn’t carry the sweetness of an endearment or the weight of a genuine compliment. It was like a tease, a little jab, almost like he was testing you. But at the same time, it wasn’t insulting. It was just... Soobin.

You hated how he knew exactly how to catch your attention with it, how it always made your heart flutter for a fraction of a second, before you could remind yourself that it was just his thing. It wasn’t real. But, in a weird way, you’d gotten used to it

You glanced up to see Soobin leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“Are you ever not done with your work?” you shot back, tapping your pen on the desk. 

He chuckled, unfazed. “It’s called doing it right the first time, but I suppose you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

You rolled your eyes so dramatically it almost hurt. Oh right, I forgot you’re perfect,” You emphasized the sarcasm with a dramatic bow of your head. “Please, Soobin, tell me more about how you manage to single-handedly solve every crisis known to mankind.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the banter. “If only you’d be a little more grateful, maybe I wouldn’t have to save you every time you get in over your head.”

“Save me?” You scoffed, leaning back in your chair. “Please. I’m fine on my own.”

He chuckled again, but this time, the glint in his eyes shifted, the playful edge softening. “Right. But if you need help with that report, you know where to find me.”

“No thanks. I’ll take my chances,” you said, tapping away at your keyboard with a smile of your own.

“I’ll make a note of that,” Soobin said, straightening up. “You sure you’re not just stalling because you know you’re about to hand in something that’s... less than perfect?”

You shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. “Says the guy who’s never even had a typo in his life. Oh, look at me, I’m Mr. Perfect. Do you never get tired of being that person?”

He smiled, the corners of his mouth curving slightly in that way that always seemed to get under your skin. “It’s not my fault I’m good at what I do.”

“Oh, I know,” you muttered, trying to focus on the screen and not the smugness practically oozing from him. “You’re perfect, and I’m not.”

“You…so get me.” He grinned.

With that, he turned to leave, but not before giving you one last teasing glance over his shoulder.

You watched him go, shaking your head. “Asshole,” you muttered, but there was no real malice in the words.

This was just the way things were between you and Soobin. A game of teasing, one-upmanship, and never admitting you might actually enjoy the banter. 

But honestly? It wasn’t all that bad.

Which is why, when your entire career was suddenly hanging by a thread, he was the first person you turned to. Not like you had a choice.

It was simple, really.

You had been furiously typing out your report, but somewhere along the way, frustration got the better of you. What started as a formal document quickly turned into a vent session filled with complaints about your workload, a few choice words about your boss, and some deeply unprofessional thoughts you wished had never been typed out.

Honestly, you blamed your boss. Five new assignments dumped on you when you were barely staying afloat with the ones you already had? Ridiculous. Typing out your grievances directly into the report might not have been the smartest move, but in the heat of the moment, it felt oddly therapeutic.

Of course, that moment of catharsis didn’t last long.

"Meeting. Five minutes," someone called out, snapping you from your thoughts.

You barely had time to process before you were being pulled away.

“What’s this meeting even about? As if we don’t already have a million things to do,” you groaned, slumping into your chair beside Taehyun, your work bestie and unofficial partner in suffering.

He let out an equally exhausted sigh. “Probably something about Yeonjun kicking the copier. Did you hear? It’s broken.”

You scoffed. “That fiend.”

The meeting dragged on longer than expected. And Taehyun was right. After about 10 minutes of actual work, your boss had rambled on endlessly about how, as staff, we should be more responsible for the equipment. By the time you were finally free, you were drained, restless, and already counting down the minutes until the workday ended.

"Any last reports for the boss?" Taehyun asked, stretching as he stood. "I'm heading up there now, so you can pass them to me."

You perked up. “Oh shit! Yeah, hold on—I’ll just quickly print this.”

Without a second thought, you grabbed the freshly printed report and handed it to him.

Taehyun gave you a skeptical look. “You sure you don’t wanna double-check?”

“I already did before the meeting. Have a little faith in me,” you grinned, nudging his arm.

He shrugged. “Alright~ but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And you wished—desperately wished—you had listened to him.

An hour later, as you finally settled back at your desk and absentmindedly scrolled through your digital files, your heart stopped.

There it was.

A horror story in the form of a report.

Every single frustrated thought, every unfiltered complaint, every passive-aggressive remark you swore you had deleted—all of it had made it into the document you had just handed in.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, your stomach plummeting.

You had just submitted a disaster.

Panic surged through you like a tidal wave, your mind spinning with worst-case scenarios. If your boss read this, you were done. Fired. Blacklisted. Never to be employed again.

And worst of all, it was already in his office.

Your eyes darted around the now-empty office space. It was nearly 7 PM. Most employees had already left.

Except for one person.

Soobin.

Standing near his desk, the company’s golden boy was tidying up, getting ready to leave. He looked up when he caught you staring, raising an eyebrow.

“Why are you still here?” Soobin asked, shoving a folder into his bag as he glanced at you curiously.

You stood frozen a few feet away, your heart pounding.

There was only one way out of this.

You swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and willed yourself to move toward the one person who might—just might—be able to help you.

Even if he was the last person you ever wanted to owe a favor to.

Soobin, the golden boy of the office. The boss’s most trusted manager. The one person who never did anything wrong, who always followed protocol, and who somehow managed to stay in everyone’s good graces. You weren’t sure if you respected him or just found him insufferable.

Actually, scratch that. You definitely found him insufferable. Most of the time.

You weren’t going to ask him for help. Not if it was the last thing you did. You hated asking for help—especially from a marketing kiss-up like him.

God, you really wished Taehyun was still here.

But you had no choice.

You inhaled sharply. “Could you—nevermind.”

Soobin narrowed his eyes. “Could you—just tell me already?” he repeated mockingly, his voice an exaggerated version of your own.

Your nose scrunched in irritation. “I… I need your help.”

That got his attention. He shut his bag, crossing his arms as he leaned slightly against his desk, a smirk creeping onto his lips. “You? Asking me for help? That’s new.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Don’t make this worse.”

“Oh, I absolutely will, pretty,” he grinned. “Go on, what’s so bad that I,the person you claim to ‘barely tolerate’, am your only hope?”

You gritted your teeth. He was enjoying this way too much.

Taking a deep breath, you glanced around to make sure no one else was in earshot before lowering your voice. “I submitted the wrong report.”

Soobin blinked. “Okay… and?”

“And it wasn’t just the wrong report,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “It had… things in it.”

His brows furrowed. “Things?”

You hesitated, your stomach twisting. “Things that… should never reach the boss’s eyes.”

For a moment, Soobin just stared at you, processing your words. Then, realization dawned on his face. His lips parted slightly before curving into an infuriatingly amused smirk.

“Oh my god,” he murmured, his tone practically dripping with amusement. “You trashed the boss in your report, didn’t you?”

You let out a strangled noise of frustration. “Soobin.”

He barked out a laugh. “No way. No way. This is gold. Absolute gold!”

You wanted to die. Right then and there.

“Are you going to help me or not?” you snapped, crossing your arms.

Still grinning, he rocked back on his heels, considering. “Hmm. What’s in it for me?”

You gawked at him. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” He folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head. “You want me to commit office theft for you? I’d say that’s a huge risk. So…” He leaned in slightly. “What do I get in return?”

Your hands curled into fists at your sides. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Maybe,” he mused, unfazed. “But I’m also your only option, pretty.”

Your eye twitched. You wracked your brain for something—anything—to hold over him. And then, like a gift from the heavens, it hit you.

A slow smirk spread across your face. “Actually… I do have something.”

Soobin’s confident expression faltered for just a second. “…What?”

“Oh, nothing.” You feigned nonchalance, inspecting your nails. “Just a little something I may have overheard in the break room last week.”

His eyes narrowed. “Oh? Like what?”

You shrugged, drawing out the suspense. “Well, I certainly found out that the break room’s c–”

Before you could finish, Soobin lunged forward, clamping a hand over your mouth. His gaze was sharp, his voice low. “Who else did you tell?”

You blinked up at him, feigning innocence. “No one. I promise.”

His jaw tightened. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” You grinned, tilting your head. “I mean… I could always accidentally mention it in the team group chat…”

His eyes darkened slightly. “You wouldn’t dare.”

You raised a brow.

A beat of silence passed.

Then, with a sigh, Soobin dragged a hand down his face. “Fine,” he muttered, clearly defeated. “I’ll help you.”

Victory.

“Great,” you chirped, already grabbing his wrist and pulling him toward the elevators. “Let’s go.”

“You’re the worst,” he grumbled.

“And yet, here you are,” you teased.

Soobin groaned as you dragged him along, but you could see the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

The two of you had a long night ahead.

The elevator ride to the top floor was agonizingly slow. You kept fidgeting, glancing at the glowing numbers as they ticked upward, while Soobin leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with mild amusement.

“You look like you’re about to throw up,” he remarked.

“I might.”

“Well, aim it away from me.”

You shot him a glare, but before you could retort, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. The two of you cautiously stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. The floor was eerily quiet. Maybe everything was scarier because you were about to commit a crime. Ish.

Soobin moved ahead, peeking around the corner toward your boss’s office. You followed closely behind, your heart pounding.

“Okay,” Soobin whispered. “If the coast is clear, we—”

He suddenly froze, and you nearly bumped into him.

“What? What is it?” you whispered back, but he just nodded toward the office.

You slowly peeked over his shoulder, and your stomach dropped.

The office light was still on.

And through the glass panel, you could see your boss sitting at his desk, deep in conversation with a colleague.

“Shit,” you exhaled.

Soobin turned to you, lips twitching. “Well, this is fantastic news.”

“We wait,” you whispered, pressing yourself against the wall. “He’s bound to leave eventually.”

Soobin sighed, rubbing his temples. “You owe me for this.”

“I know,” you muttered.

And so, the two of you stood in the shadows, eavesdropping and waiting for the moment your boss would finally leave.

The hushed voices from inside the office were clearer than you expected. You had meant to eavesdrop just enough to know when your boss would leave, but instead, you and Soobin were now unintentionally listening in on something way more confidential than either of you had bargained for.

“…Are you sure the data’s accurate?” your boss's voice was low and serious.

“I double-checked the calculations. The margin of error is within acceptable range, but we can’t be hasty about the decisions we’re making next week at the meeting,” your colleague responded.

A silence stretched between them before your boss sighed. “If this gets out, it’s both our heads.”

Your eyes widened. What the hell are they talking about? You turned to Soobin, only to see he looked equally alarmed.

“We should not be listening to this,” you mouthed, but before he could respond–

The door to the janitor’s closet beside you suddenly swung open.

You barely had a second to react before Soobin grabbed you and pushed you aside, his body pressing flush against yours as he shielded you from view. The janitor stepped out, wheeling a mop bucket past the two of you, completely oblivious.

Your breath hitched. Soobin’s chest was solid against you, the warmth of his body seeping through your clothes. His head was angled slightly downward, close, a little too close. He was still focused on the office door, unaware of just how fast your heart was now racing.

But you weren’t looking at the office anymore.

You were looking at him.

Your pulse pounded as you took in the sharp line of his jaw, the way his lips parted slightly as he exhaled. He was so close that you could see the flecks of brown in his dark eyes.

And then—almost as if he sensed it—Soobin finally looked down.

Your breath hitched.

The space between you was nearly nonexistent, your lips just inches apart. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and steady, and suddenly, the air felt unbearably thick.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke.

Your mind screamed at you to look away, to break the tension, to remind yourself that this was Soobin, the insufferable tease who took far too much joy in teasing you.

But at that moment, he wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t smirking.

He was just looking at you.

You cleared your throat, quickly turning away, “It’s hot, isn’t it?” you said, fanning yourself with your hand. “Is the AC off or something?”

“Well, we are the only ones left in the building,” Soobin said, his voice still close enough that you could feel the words brush against your skin.

You were doing everything you could to ignore how his proximity was affecting you. But it was hard. Way too hard. And then, just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, Soobin’s fingers brushed over your jaw. His touch was so light, so teasing, and then—without warning—he pinched your chin, gently forcing you to look up at him.

“Are you scared?” he whispered, his voice low, almost too soft.

“N-no,” you stammered, trying to turn your head away, but his grip tightened, not allowing you to look anywhere but at him.

“Don’t look away,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“S-Soobin,” you managed to get out, breath catching in your throat.

Then, in a move that made your heart stop, Soobin leaned in even closer, so close that your lips were nearly touching. Time seemed to slow, and you felt your breath hitch in your chest. What was happening? Was he going to kiss you?

Your eyes fluttered closed, ready for something you weren’t sure you were prepared for. But just as suddenly as it had started, Soobin pushed you away.

“God, that janitor... was not leaving...” His attention shifted abruptly to the janitor, who had finally wandered into another room.

You blinked rapidly, trying to steady your breath, your heart still racing. 

“Right…the janitor.” You mumbled under your breath.

Soobin turned to you, his gaze mischievous, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Wait. Did you think I was going to kiss you?"

You shook your head defensively, voice rising as you tried to put distance between your racing heart and his teasing words. "No!"

But instead of backing off, Soobin took a step closer, closing the space even more. His arms caged you in, pressing you gently against the cool wall, and your breath caught in your throat. He leaned in, his face now dangerously close, his eyes glinting with something that was half amusement, half something darker.

"You’re gonna have to lower your volume there, pretty," he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek. “Unless, of course, you don’t mind them finding out we’re here.”

Your heart racing as he hovered just a breath away, his words lingering like smoke in the quiet room. You were sure you were going to lose your mind if he kept up with this—teasing, so close, his words sinking under your skin. He always knew how to get to you, and right now, it was unbearable.

His lips quirked up again, a playful glint in his eye. “What? You really thought I was gonna kiss you, didn’t you?” he teased, his voice low, mocking. “It’s okay, pretty, I get it. I can be hard to resist.”

Your chest tightened in irritation. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as your patience finally snapped.

“Move,” you spat, spinning on your heel and storming off. “You’re being annoying.”

He was right on your heels, his footsteps quick and light as he followed you through the hallway, but you didn’t care. Your mind was racing, anger bubbling up and threatening to spill over. You were done with this ridiculous back-and-forth, this constant teasing.

"Hey, hey, hold up," Soobin called out, his voice a little more serious now, but the usual smirk didn’t leave his face. "Where are you going? Come on, you’re not really upset, are you? I was just kidding."

You didn’t answer him, focusing on your stride as you headed for the elevator. You didn’t need to be around him any longer than necessary tonight. You could just wait downstairs. You could do it alone.

Then, as if on cue, the sound of a door opening caught your attention, and you froze. You caught sight of your boss walking out of his office, followed by your colleague.

And then, without missing a beat, Soobin shoved you back slightly, just enough to send you stumbling into him. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he whispered, “Stay calm.”

Your breath caught as his voice dropped, turning smooth and calm. “I promise, I’ll get you anything you want, baby,” he said, the words coming out in a fake, but believable, tone. You couldn’t help but look up at him, your heart racing from both the sudden closeness and his complete shift in demeanor.

You tried to push him away but found yourself unable to do so, too flustered and caught off guard. Soobin had that effect on you more often than you liked to admit.

He continued, his voice dripping with faux sweetness as your boss and colleague walked past, oblivious to the scene unfolding. “Are you okay, pretty? You look like you’re about to faint,” he said a little louder, the corners of his mouth twitching as he kept up the act.

Your face heated, embarrassment stirring within you. Soobin’s hands were still on your waist, and you could feel his warmth pressing into you as if it were real.

You tried to muster a response, but nothing came out. Instead, you let out a frustrated sigh, your eyes darting away. This was the last thing you wanted to deal with tonight. But Soobin wasn’t making it easy.

“Relax,” he murmured again, his lips barely brushing your ear. “We’ve got this. You’ve got this.”

And as much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t help but feel a weird sense of relief in his words, even if it was all just a part of the act.

“I just..” You began. “I can’t believe you did that.” You said, acting aloof and distant from your “boyfriend”.

Your boss’s voice echoed through the hallway as he cleared his throat, causing you to freeze in your tracks. You looked up just in time to see Soobin's fake shock as he stepped back, putting himself between you and the oncoming threat that was Mr. Choi.

“Oh, Mr. Choi!” Soobin said, his eyes wide as though he'd been caught in some act of high treason. You, however, were already in full panic mode, ducking behind Soobin's towering figure, hoping the giant wall of him would conceal you.

You were never going to live this down.

Mr. Choi peered over Soobin’s shoulder with a raised brow. “I didn’t think the two of you would still be here,” he said, a casual tone in his voice. 

“I’m sorry, we thought everyone went home.” Soobin grinned, offering a “genuine” apology.

You were practically squished behind Soobin now, your heart racing as you pressed your face into the back of his jacket, praying the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

But your boss was persistent, leaning forward slightly as he caught sight of you behind Soobin’s broad frame. His eyes sparkled with amusement, and a knowing grin spread across his face. “Well, duty calls,” Mr. Choi joked, his eyes shifting between the two of you before he pointed at the both of you, “I didn’t realize the two of you were together.”

You felt the blood drain from your face, and before you could even open your mouth to protest, Soobin smoothly cut you off.

“It’s a recent thing,” Soobin said, his voice smooth like butter, and you could hear the grin in his tone as he glanced back at you with a wink. “Unfortunately, I might have made my beautiful girlfriend a little upset.” He shot you an exaggerated apologetic look, like the world's biggest puppy dog. “I’m sorry for bringing her here. It was the first place I thought of…”

You opened your mouth to object, about to shout, No! This is not happening!, but Soobin held up a hand, cutting you off again.

“I mean,” Soobin continued, pointing to the garden just outside Mr. Choi's office, “Look at this beautiful, romantic garden. Where else would a guy bring his upset girlfriend after a long day at work?”

Your jaw dropped as you stared at him, your eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re unbelievable,” you whispered through gritted teeth, trying to shrink even more into Soobin’s shadow.

Mr. Choi chuckled, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before him. “Well, if you two really want to be alone,” he said with a mischievous grin, “the eleventh and fourteenth floors are usually... well, uh, pretty free,” he added, his tone playful as he glanced between the two of you. “Guess I’ll just leave you to it. I’ll—uh—see you both on Monday.”

With that, he winked and walked away, leaving you and Soobin standing there, both still in shock from the unexpected turn of events.

“See you Monday, Mr. Choi,” Soobin said, practically glowing now that he had made you the center of attention.

As Mr. Choi walked away, you peeked out from behind Soobin’s back, trying to recover from the embarrassment. “I’m going to kill you,” you muttered under your breath.

Soobin flashed you that smug, knowing grin of his. “Well, if you’re going to be mad at me, pretty, I might as well make it worth your while.”

You rolled your eyes and walked into the office, making sure Mr. Choi had left. The two of you immediately started rummaging through his things, hoping to find the damn report that had put you in this situation.

After all, it was the report’s fault, not yours.

“I’m sure it’s around here somewhere,” Soobin muttered under his breath, his hands moving through the papers with increasing frustration. “I didn’t think this would be how we’d be spending our Friday night.”

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest when the sound of the door clicking open reached your ears. Panic set in as you froze, and you and Soobin shared a quick glance. Without thinking, you both dove under the desk, hiding just in time as Mr. Choi walked into the room, still chatting on the phone.

"Yeah, I’ll just be another minute, I just forgot my damn car keys," he said casually, pacing across the room as he continued his conversation. You could hear the faint click of his shoes against the floor, and every move felt exaggerated in the suffocating quiet.

You and Soobin were practically inches apart now, hiding under the desk in such tight quarters that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. You tried to keep your breathing quiet, but it felt impossible with your heart pounding in your chest.

“So, what’s the plan here?” Soobin whispered, his voice too loud for your liking in the silent room.

“Shut up,” you hissed, covering his mouth with your hand. “Just… don’t make a sound.”

Mr. Choi continued his phone conversation, oblivious to the fact that two people were currently hiding under his desk, just a few feet away. He was talking about his weekend plans, completely unaware of the chaos brewing underneath him.

"Yeah, I think I’ll check out that new restaurant we talked about," Mr. Choi said, pausing to listen to whoever was on the phone. "I’ll just wrap things up here and be out in a bit."

You held your breath as Soobin shifted slightly, and you had to resist the urge to make a sound when his knee brushed against yours. The confined space was doing strange things to your awareness of his presence, and your heartbeat wasn’t exactly making the situation any better.

“We need to get out of here,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Soobin, but you couldn't stop the awkward tension from mounting.

“I’m not the one who got us stuck under a desk,” Soobin replied, his voice dripping with amusement.

You both remained frozen under the desk, holding your breath as Mr. Choi’s footsteps drew nearer. The air felt thick with tension. Just as you thought you might explode from the anxiety, Mr. Choi's voice rang out, “Ahhh, there they are.”

He was dangerously close now, and Soobin pushed you further into the corner, his arm brushing against your side. You felt his breath against your face, the proximity sending a wave of flustered panic through you.

You didn’t dare move, barely breathing as Soobin’s hands gently rested above yours, trying to steady your racing heart. Time seemed to freeze as Mr. Choi lingered, completely unaware of the two of you hiding under his desk. When he finally left, you let out a sigh of relief, feeling like you had just run a marathon without moving an inch.

“I was going to shit my pants,” you muttered, letting out a nervous laugh.

“Well, you’re going to love me extra for this but,” Soobin teased, his voice still low with the lingering tension. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I found it.” His voice held a sense of triumph as he reached behind you, pulling the report from the folder.

You grinned widely, throwing your arms around him in a spontaneous embrace. “Oh my god. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The two of you stayed there for a moment, still under the desk, the space between you shrinking with each passing second. It was so quiet, so close. Neither of you moved to leave. It felt...comfortable, despite everything. Until the initial warmth of the hug lingered for just a bit too long.

Soobin cleared his throat, breaking the moment.

“Oh, right,” you stammered, quickly trying to pull away, but the movement was a bit too sudden.

“Uh, sorry, I–uh– my watch is caught in your hair,” Soobin said, voice tinged with embarrassment.

You froze, his fingers brushing your hair as he gently untangled his watch. The proximity felt electrifying, too close for comfort, but somehow, you didn’t mind. Your eyes met, just inches away, both of you frozen in the charged air, breathing the same air.

Then, almost instinctively, Soobin’s hand brushed against your cheek as he worked to free his watch. The slight touch sent a shiver down your spine, making your heart race again. You could feel the pull between you, a heartbeat away from something more, something that felt almost inevitable.

But just as his hand finally slipped free from your hair, you both pulled back quickly, the tension thick in the air. Neither of you spoke at first, but the silence carried a weight of what just almost happened.

You both finally crawled out from under the desk, your heart still pounding in your chest. Soobin cleared his throat again, trying to ease the tension. His voice was much lighter now, almost teasing.

“So,” he began, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. “Let me see what this report you’re so afraid our boss will see says.”

Your eyes widened in panic, and you bolted toward Soobin, practically diving for the report. But of course, Soobin, being annoyingly tall and fast, immediately pulled it out of the folder, holding it just out of your reach.

You tried to grab it again, but he was way too quick for you, effortlessly keeping the report away from your grasp. “Soobin, give it back!” you protested, your voice tinged with desperation.

But he just laughed, scanning through the pages with an amused gleam in his eyes. “Let’s see what we have here…” He began reading aloud, his voice slowly growing more playful.

“‘Mr. Choi is a pain in the ass… He looks like he belongs in the cast of Glee with how theatrical his ass is…He smells like piss and is a fucking–hold on…” Soobin grinned. 

“And what do we have here?’” He snickered, clearly enjoying this a little too much.

You groaned in embarrassment, still trying to grab the folder from him, but Soobin seemed to be enjoying every second of your discomfort. “Soobin, big, stupid idiot? He’s annoying and distracting..Mr and Mrs Choi.” His eyebrows raised in amusement.

Your face flushed crimson, and you quickly covered your face with your hands, cringing at the very real words you’d written. But Soobin wasn’t stopping. His voice softened as he continued to read aloud, now clearly savoring the moment.

“‘The more I think about him… the more I li–’” He paused, his voice growing quieter, a soft smile forming on his lips. Realizing how much he was teasing you, Soobin stopped reading aloud, his gaze flicking to you with a knowing look. But he didn’t finish the sentence out loud. Instead, he silently read the rest in his head, his smile turning a little more sincere.

Your heart skipped a beat. You felt your breath catch in your throat, realizing that you’d just given him a very honest glimpse into your thoughts. You didn't know how to respond at first. He was staring at you with that calm, almost knowing look, his eyes gentle but full of something that made your insides turn to mush.

“Give me that, you… idiot,” you muttered, trying to break the tension. On your tiptoes, you reached up, swiping the folder from his hands. “You shouldn’t go around reading things that don’t belong to you.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Well, my name is in the report,” he teased, still clearly amused by your flustered reaction.

You glared up at him, but your cheeks were burning, betraying your attempt at being serious. “It wasn’t meant for you to see,” you shot back, though the words felt a little weaker than intended. You could feel the heat of his gaze still lingering on you as you clutched the report to your chest, not sure whether to laugh or groan.

You stood there, holding the report tightly to your chest, trying your best to ignore the heat spreading across your face. You could feel the weight of Soobin’s teasing eyes on you, his smirk never faltering. Every time you tried to focus on something else, he’d nudge you, inching closer with that mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You know,” Soobin said, his voice low and teasing, “you’re really cute when you’re embarrassed. I’m almost starting to think you like me or something.” He nudged you again, his shoulder brushing against yours, sending a jolt through your body.

“Shut up,” you muttered, too embarrassed to look at him directly. But the teasing in his voice made it impossible to ignore him. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you desperately tried to maintain some semblance of composure.

But Soobin wasn’t done. He took another step closer, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush against your ear. “I didn’t say I didn’t feel the same way,” he murmured, the words a little softer now but no less teasing.

You blinked, your heart thumping louder in your chest as the situation suddenly shifted. The warmth of Soobin’s body was all around you, the space between you now a mere breath. Before you could process what was happening, he gently but firmly pushed you against the wall, his arms caging you in, trapping you in a way that left you feeling both flustered and exhilarated.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing pulse. “Look, it’s getting late, we should—” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before he interrupted, his voice smooth, teasing, and oh-so-close.

“We should?” He tilted his head just slightly, his lips curling up into that knowing smirk. There was a challenge in his eyes, but it wasn’t the usual playful one. This one felt different.

Your breath hitched, a wave of warmth rushing to your cheeks as you suddenly realized how close he was. You had never been this close to him before (well other than 20 minutes ago when he had pushed you aside to hide), and the way he was looking at you made your insides feel like they were melting. His cologne was intoxicating, and it left you momentarily lost for words. 

“W-we should head home,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to avoid meeting his eyes.

But Soobin wasn’t backing down. His gaze softened just slightly as he leaned in a little closer, the distance between you two closing with each passing second. “But I finally got to find out how you feel,” he murmured, his breath warm against your face. “Shouldn’t we celebrate a little?”

Your heart skipped a beat. His words hung in the air like a fragile promise, and for a moment, you felt like you were floating. You had to look away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. “I—I didn’t mean for you to read that,” you stuttered, words tumbling out in a jumble of confusion and embarrassment.

But Soobin wasn’t letting you escape that easily. His voice dropped lower, just a touch playful but with an undeniable hint of something more. “You sure do enjoy looking away from me, huh, pretty?”

The nickname—the one you hadn’t really known how to feel about before—suddenly felt different now. It wasn’t just a teasing remark anymore. It was like a subtle confession, like he was reminding you of the very thing you were trying to ignore. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest, and all you could do was stand there, breathless, your pulse racing as his presence enveloped you.

You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond. Soobin’s teasing tone, combined with the way he held you in place, made it almost impossible to think straight. But before you could even begin to process it, you felt his fingers gently brush against your cheek, guiding your face back toward his.

“Don’t avoid me now,” he whispered, his voice soft but filled with an unspoken desire. His eyes were fixed on yours, intense, searching, waiting for something—a response, a confirmation.

And for once, you didn’t look away.

Soobin's voice broke through the tension between you two, a teasing, yet somehow vulnerable edge to it. “So, pretty, it says here, specifically, that you have feelings for me. Are you going to attest to that?” His eyes glinted with something dangerous.

You froze, unsure of how to respond. The words you’d written, the confession that had slipped out without you even realizing it, were impossible to ignore. 

Your breath hitched as your heart raced, and all you could do was stammer out the question that was on your mind.

“How?” The single word escaped your lips, softer than you intended.

A slow smile spread across Soobin’s face, and the space between you two seemed to shrink even further. His eyes locked onto yours, unwavering. “I can think of a few ways.” His tone was low, smooth, and he took a subtle step closer, his breath just a whisper away from your skin. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his presence overwhelming in the best way possible.

Your pulse quickened as you felt the weight of his words. Ways? Was he really going there? But before you could react, you found yourself reminded that you were completely trapped, both by the closeness of your bodies and the raw intensity in his gaze.

His hand brushed against your arm, a touch so light it sent shivers down your spine. His fingers lingered there for just a moment, the sensation burning through the fabric of your shirt, drawing you closer into the orbit of his presence. Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in slightly, his lips brushing just past your ear as he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t want to force you into anything, but… if you’re going to admit it,” he murmured, “I’m definitely open to… exploring what comes next.”

The words made your head spin, and despite every ounce of your pride telling you to keep your composure, you felt yourself falter. Soobin’s teasing tone, combined with his unrelenting closeness, left you breathless, caught somewhere between feeling flustered and finally giving in to what you’d been holding back for so long.

You swallowed hard, the words lodged in your throat, unable to escape. “Or we could just go home,” Soobin suggested, his hands slowly leaving the walls as he turned, his voice a little softer, almost reluctant but mainly teasing.

But something shifted inside you—a sudden burst of courage, or maybe it was just the overwhelming feeling of him so close, that you couldn’t ignore any longer. Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed his arms, pulling him back toward you. It might have been the most reckless move you'd ever made—or maybe the best—but in that moment, you didn’t care.

You pulled him in, your lips crashing against his with a sudden urgency. His breath hitched for a second before he kissed you back, just as urgently, as though he'd been waiting for this as much as you had. The kiss was soft, tender at first, and then it deepened, both of you losing yourselves in the moment. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you against him, the heat between you rising with every second.

You were acutely aware of how his lips felt, the gentle pressure and the way they moved against yours, teasing, but also claiming you in the same breath. Your pulse raced, and you couldn’t help but melt into him. His presence was overwhelming, every inch of him invading your senses. You felt his warmth, the strong beat of his heart against yours, and the way he held you close as if he couldn’t get enough.

You ran your hands along the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. Your breaths became shallow, struggling to catch air, but you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. Reluctantly, you pulled your hands back, but before you could react, he gently pinned them above your head. His fingers pried open your clenched fists, slowly intertwining your fingers with his, holding you in place.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he pressed you against the wall. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him, straddling his waist. His strength was overwhelming, the heat between you both palpable as your bodies aligned, your breath shallow and quick. You could feel every inch of him, his chest rising and falling with his breaths, his hands steady against your skin.

He gently shifted, guiding you with ease, and before you knew it, he had you placed on top of the desk. His hands slid down to rest against your waist as he intertwined your fingers together, holding you in place.

You didn’t want it to end, but just as the kiss grew more intense, you heard the door click open.

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as the reality of the situation sank in. The kiss had been abruptly interrupted, and your eyes shot open in panic. Soobin didn't react right away, almost as if he wasn’t as startled as you were.

But then, your gaze flickered to the door, and that’s when you saw him—Mr. Choi, walking in with a slow, amused stride. His eyes widened for a split second, taking in the scene before him.

There you were, straddling Soobin’s waist, your hands still gripping the desk for balance as you both had been caught in a moment that could only be described as far more intimate than either of you had anticipated. Your face flushed with embarrassment as you instinctively pushed yourself off Soobin, your legs unsteady as you dropped to the floor with a soft thud.

Mr. Choi leaned casually against the doorframe, his smirk widening as he observed the scene with amusement plastered across his face, “Well, well,” he drawled, raising an eyebrow, clearly entertained by the mess you’d found yourselves in. “Looks like I’ve walked in on something... interesting.”

Soobin's face flushed with irritation. He straightened up, helping you up from the floor. His glare was sharp as he shot a look at Mr. Choi. 

"For fuck's sake, Beomgyu," he groaned, his voice thick with frustration. "Aren’t you supposed to be on your way home?"

Beomgyu, unfazed, leaned back into the doorframe with a nonchalant grin. "Well, I didn't think there would be two people making out in my office," he teased, clearly enjoying the discomfort in the air.

"Didn't you say you were going home after you got your keys?" Soobin groaned again, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, "Were you eavesdropping?" He raised an eyebrow. "Are you forgetting I'm still your boss, you idiot?"

You stood there, utterly confused by the back-and-forth between them. Soobin and Mr. Choi were friends? The whole situation felt surreal.

“Are you two–”

"Oh right. I—" Soobin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We're close friends, but I just don’t exactly announce it to the world. I don’t really need the drama."

Beomgyu chuckled, "God, Soobin. I gave you options, the fourteenth and eleventh floor for a reason."

"We had no time," Soobin grumbled, clearly embarrassed.

"Clearly," Beomgyu quipped, gesturing to Soobin's pants, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Your cheeks burned as you quickly glanced down, realizing the situation. You hastily handed Soobin the folder, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious. Soobin caught your gaze for a split second, his face flushed with both annoyance and embarrassment, before he used the folder to discreetly cover his “situation”.

Without missing a beat, he whisked you away from the office. "You owe me," he muttered, leaning into Beomgyu’s ear before pulling you toward the door.

"Dude, you’re lucky I’m not firing you," Beomgyu yelled after them, his voice fading as Soobin hurriedly guided you down the hall.

Soobin groaned, still frustrated but trying to keep his composure. "Next time, we’re going somewhere private," he muttered under his breath as he led you to a quieter part of the building.

“Hey, if Mr. Choi was your friend—” you started.

“Beomgyu,” he corrected with a grin, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“Right, Beomgyu…” you trailed off, still processing everything. “Then doesn’t that mean he probably wouldn’t have cared if you were the one who broke the copier?”

Here you were, thinking the leverage you had against him would’ve been enough to get him into trouble. Instead, he was effortlessly getting away with it all because of his close friendship with Beomgyu.

“Yeah,” Soobin nodded nonchalantly, his expression casual as if this was no big deal.

“Then why’d you help me?” you asked, genuinely confused.

Soobin let out a soft laugh, eyes twinkling as he leaned back in his seat. “I thought it was obvious.”

You frowned, still not understanding. “What’s obvious?”

“The fact that I like you,” he said, his voice steady, and his gaze unwavering, holding an almost affectionate warmth. His eyes locked with yours as if it should’ve been obvious all along. “How’re you not getting it?”

“Right.” You nodded, your cheeks heating up, flustered by the realization that had just settled in.

“So naive,” he teased lightly, his tone playful yet sincere. “C’mon, you can’t really believe I’d help you with all that and not have feelings for you.”

“You’d be surprised at how dense I can be,” you mumbled, still trying to piece everything together in your head, unsure if you were fully grasping the situation yet.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he laughed, leaning in just slightly, his gaze now intense, studying your face with a little more curiosity.

You rolled your eyes, a playful grin tugging at your lips as you gave his arm a gentle punch.

Feigning an exaggerated wince, he groaned dramatically, clutching his arm with over-the-top flair. “Ouch, ouch, ouch. I’m seriously hurt.”

“Stop being dramatic,” you said, fighting to hold back a smile, knowing full well he was faking it.

“It really does hurt,” he continued, his voice dropping an octave, turning the theatrics up as he leaned closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh, really?” You decided to hit his arm again, this time harder, feeling the sting of your own strike as you noticed how close you were now, the tension building between the two of you.

“Ow!” Soobin yelped, his expression shifting to one of mock pain, but the seriousness in his voice was enough to make you pause. 

You panicked, jumping to your feet and immediately hovering over him, your heart racing. “Oh my god, are you okay? I’m so sorry!” You looked down at him, your hands unsure of where to go as you knelt by his side, your voice full of concern.

“It just… it hurts…” Soobin sighed dramatically, his voice dripping with mock sorrow, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes that you hadn't noticed before. His hand rested on his chest as though he were genuinely wounded, but you could tell by the way his lips curved up that he was enjoying every second of it.

“I’m so, so sorry—” you stammered, flustered by the moment and how close you were to him now. 

“Kiss it better?” Soobin looked up at you, his lips curling into a playful pout, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. His eyes held yours, the playful challenge in them unmistakable, daring you to play along.

That’s when it clicked, and you realized he was faking the whole thing. You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress your laughter, ready to nudge him again for his over-the-top act, but before you could, he suddenly grabbed your hand, his fingers locking around your wrist with surprising strength.

He pulled you gently but firmly closer, the space between you shrinking in an instant. His eyes never left yours, and there was an intensity in his gaze now that had shifted from playful to something else—something much more meaningful. You could feel the warmth of his hand against yours.

“Kiss it better?” He repeated, his voice much softer now, and his fingers tightening gently around yours. Without warning, he pulled you down so that you were sitting on his lap.

You froze for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. “Shouldn’t I be kissing the part that hurts?” you whispered, voice barely above a breath.

Soobin smiled knowingly, his hand sliding around your waist to pull you in closer. “Right now,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, “I’m hurting that we didn’t get to finish what we started just now.”

Your heart raced, and you felt the heat rising to your face. “Y-you’re insane if you think I’m going to do anything with you on the rooftop of our workplace,” you stammered, trying to break the intensity of the moment.

You could feel Soobin’s breath against your ear, warm and tantalizing, as his words whispered to you, his voice low and full of playful teasing.

“Then let’s go home right now.”

[boooaarr]

@1that-tired-queer1

dark academia autumn armand 🍂🍁🧡

[raeofgayshine]

Wish there was a way to begin to explain what happened tonight during stream because there’s some kind of gold in Jim thinking that Riddler is fairy (like tinkerbell) but everyone else just thinks he’s calling Ed a slur and the pipeline it leads down, connecting to Bruce thinking babies come from kissing, all the way to Jim asking Ed and Oswald if Tim was “their fairy baby and Tim telling Steph “I think Jim just called me a fairy.” Steph: “sorry you had to find out this way, but we all kind of knew.”

[leyiorr]

i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!

mdni.

satoru gojo is doomed.

why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.

crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.

of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.

you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.

he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.

more.

that's right, you were more.

recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.

surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.

he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.

so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.

it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?

his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-

“satoru?”

his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.

“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.

what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-

“satoru!”

he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.

the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.

(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)

he should be neutered. effective immediately.

it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:

“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-

“...is that it?”

and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?

he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.

yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.

[skyrigel]

Simon would never forget the first kiss. It was an all electrifying force reckoning inside him — It was over the bloodied limp of your pathetic ex husband.

So it happened like this, Simon Riley was head over heels for you the moment he met you in the elevator and as if by fates the damn box stopped working which resulted in Simon helping you up the stairs with the grocery and also knowing your sweet darling name. Then on and on he knew more, about your narssicist husband whom you had filed divorce against months ago.

And it wasn't until one night he heard the raised voices from the apartment hallway, and one of them which he recognised in his soul was enough to make him bolt out mindlessly with heart beats escalating every second.

“Get out ! Get off me !” You screamed as your husband grabbed both of your wrist and with a thud he pressed you against the wall.

“Listen you fucking bitch —” That was all he was able to slur before Simon grabbed the bastard by the back of his neck, pulling him back from you with one rough shove.

You breathlessly stared as Simon's eyes reached over, glancing, nodding, and softening, then back at the man you made the mistake of marrying once.

“Who are you ?” He dangled back and forth with shaking steps, eyes unfocused on Simon who didn't stop glaring. Every nerve of his neck popped out with him maintaining restraint, and not kill the man right there with bare hands.

“Get da fuck Outta here.” Simon said through clenched fist. He didn't want to make the case bad for you, he just wanted this jerk to get out of your life.

“Been a whore always —”

You saw it all in slow motion, as your husband's smirk grew around the word ‘whore’, because not getting any of the household stuff done and then proceeding to slut shame you when you hired man yourself to get appliances fixed or screws tighten or for car engine misshap was one of the first thing that you noticed, that this man was a bloody unapologetical loser.

And his dirty finger once again were too close, too threatening, that until Simon whipped around with devil in his eyes. His fist that had been clenched enough to make his knuckles go white connected with the ugly cheek of your husband, every crunch of bones was heard in clear disposition as he fell on the floor, groaning loudly.

“Don't ever touch her again !” Simon jumped over him, pulling his bloodied face up by the collar before punching him down again as he screamed.

“Don't ever hurt her again !” Another punch right on the nose. You stared, unable to move, unable to utter a single word as you watched the man who made your world worse than hell was getting beaten to pulp, each time he screamed, your heart was getting calmer.

“Don't ever fucking come near her !” Simon held open the broken jaw, his knuckles red with blood stain. Then as if a spell had been broken — his eyes lifted up to meet yours through the metallic scent of blood and terrified feeling of broken bones and maimed flesh.

He stood up, jaw unclenching, every muscle slowly relaxing. The hardness bleeding away like your husband, soon to be ex.

You knew what you felt.

“I…” Simon hesitated, like he hadn't just made you realise what you had been wanting all this time. The way he smiled around your jokes, hummed to your bad tea, picked curtains and watched stupid hallmark movies for the sake of you.

“Are you alright ?” His hand raised to touch your cheek before he dropped the stained fingers by his side.

It was silence except the crying for help which was like rat being strangled. You couldn't find any words, but nodded because your silence was breaking Simon's heart. He needed to make sure that you were okay.

But you needed to convey something more, so you took a step, not much and reached on your highest tip-toes, taking his face by both of your hand and placing your lips over his in a sweet embrace.

So traditionally Simon had to propose first to keep up the score.

Masterlist

[cherienymphe]

Pity Party

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON/DUB-CON (+ mentions of), toxic/abusive relationship, mentions of manipulation, dad!Rafe, established Rafe x reader

➥ While this can absolutely be read as a stand alone piece, it is also the much requested follow up to my WTPO series. I hope this doesn't disappoint!

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You became the envy of every woman in Kildare County the day you became Mrs. Rafe Cameron.

⭑

You slid along the floor using your knees, hand occupied by an even tinier one as your son unsteadily put one foot in front of the other. Your lips were pulled into a smile as you watched him, your free hand hovering behind his back for when he very likely would fall. Your other son was occupied with a snack, and when—as expected—the youngest one’s legs gave out, you scooped him up with a giggle.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “You’re going to be sprinting by this weekend.”

His cherubic face smiled back at you, lips wet with drool, and you wiped his mouth with a smile. Your oldest—now done with his Goldfish—was currently tugging on your dress, and when you looked down at him, he had a wide grin on his face.

“I wanna play with him…”

His soft voice had your own expression softening, and you quietly told him ‘okay’, taking a seat right on the floor where you were formerly standing. You emptied your hands, letting your son crawl around and slap at the ground as his brother followed him, face so close to his as he whispered things to him that he didn’t quite understand yet. You let your mind wander, warmth blooming in your chest as you thought about how…sweet they were.

There had been a time where you feared they wouldn’t be.

…and as you stared at them, you almost felt bad for ever thinking they could be anything less than angels, but it couldn’t be helped. They were children, and there were very few things in this world that were more innocent than children. They both came out squirming and pudgy and perfect—screaming their heads off and only calming once they were in your arms. They came into this world looking at you with the kind of eyes that had never experienced or done a single bad thing in their life.

They were children…babies…

…but they were Rafe’s babies.

And as much as you would like to, you would never be able to forget how they both came to be here. Fighting off Rafe Cameron was hard enough when you were going through a tumultuous breakup, but it became damn near impossible once he managed to get a ring on your finger and a prison around you in the form of a fancy house. You looked down at the large rock, a pang going through your chest at the sight of a simple gold band below it.

The wedding had been the grand fanfare it was expected to be, serving it’s purpose of making you the envy of every woman in Kildare County. Your oldest son—having been an only child at the time—was pulled down the aisle in a wagon with a pillow in his lap that contained the rings. Rose had gushed over you in the dressing room, long having convinced herself no woman would ever marry Rafe and she’d never get to experience this. Your father had cried as he handed you off to your husband to be, and tears had kissed your own eyes but just for an entirely different reason.

Your dress was made for a princess, and your veil was made for an angel, and your makeup was made for a doll. Everything was perfect, everything going off without a hitch. Absolutely nothing—not a single thing—had gone wrong, and even though by that point you’d slowly started to accept your fate…something in you had hoped. For what? You weren’t entirely sure.

You’d hoped that some crazy ex girlfriend of Rafe’s would stand up and object. You’d hoped that your brother would go against your wishes and drag you away from it all. Hell, you’d even hoped that someone would choke on their spit and require an ambulance. Deep down though, you’d known what you really hoped for.

You had hoped that Rafe would do the right thing…and let you go.

It was a silly hope. Rafe Cameron had gone through entirely too much trouble to ensure you’d never leave him, even going as far as threatening to take your son away from you. He—both of them—was the only good thing to come out of this. From the first moment you laid eyes on him, you’d wanted him all for yourself and far away from Rafe. The brunette simply didn’t deserve him, and you had no doubt that Rafe would agree, but his selfishness outweighed any thought of doing what was right. That had always been the case.

You didn’t know why you thought your wedding day might be any different.

Rafe moments away from chaining you to him forever? There was no shot in hell of him walking away from that, and you sighed at how naively hopeful you’d been that day. The sound of your oldest son’s laughter pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked over just in time to see him jump to his feet, promptly sprinting towards the foyer. You weren’t worried, knowing exactly who it was that could elicit such a reaction from him.

You swallowed at the sound of Rafe’s voice, taking your 11-month old into your arms.

“...and how were my boys?”

He came into view as he said that, the messy haired little boy upside down in his arms as he kicked his feet and laughed.

You knew the question wasn’t meant for you.

“I was bad,” your son told him, and you fought back a smile, knowing why he said that.

Rafe’s gaze met yours, and the smile that threatened to ghost over your lips was gone. He merely smirked at the sight, rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to the boy in his arms.

“Bad? Oh no,” he chuckled. “Why were you bad?”

“I accidentally spilled juice on mommy’s dress.”

Your son’s words came out small, slurring together a bit with his slight lisp. You’d told him that it was fine—accidents happen—but you knew why he was so hung up on it. As awful as Rafe treated you behind closed doors, he treated you a million times better for the whole world to see. He was smart that way, and the whole world included your children. They saw their dad treat mommy like a princess—none the wiser to what the true nature of your relationship was really like—and so they followed suit.

An offense against you—no matter how small—was especially heinous.

“Oh that is bad,” Rafe murmured, setting him down on his feet. “Guess we’ll have to buy her a new one, huh?”

He ruffled his hair, and your son beamed at the thought of going shopping.

You avoided Rafe’s gaze as he neared you, an impressive feat when he came to kneel down before you. Your youngest was squirming in your arms—babbling—and you swallowed when Rafe reached out to lightly squish his cheeks. He pressed his lips to his tiny forehead just as his hand landed on your own cheek, and only then did you look at him.

Rafe stared at you for what felt like a long time, expression unreadable. Your oldest was going on about something behind him that neither of you were giving too much attention to. His blue eyes looked between yours, studying you, and you could smell his cologne. After what felt like too long, his pink lips finally curved into that haughty half smile you were used to seeing.

It never not made you want to smack it right off of his face.

“...and how was mommy today?” he quietly asked.

There were a thousand things you wanted to say to him.

You wanted to say that mommy cried in the bathroom because she still had thoughts of leaving sometimes even at the loss of her own children, but then she’d remember how much she loved them and couldn’t live without them and the guilt would set in. You wanted to tell him that mommy’s thigh still hurt from where he’d sank his teeth into it the night before for daring to tell him she still hated him sometimes. You even started to tell him that mommy had rare moments here and there where she’d momentarily forget their history and find herself content in this big house with her children and fancy ring until she remembered how her children got here and what said house and ring represented.

You didn’t say any of that though.

Instead, you merely blinked at Rafe, and told him what you always did.

“Mommy was fine.”

The vase narrowly missed Rafe’s head, his quick reflexes making your heart sink with disappointment. Your own quick thinking had you frantically looking around for something else to throw at him, but his feet moved faster than your brain, and he was nearing you before you made up your mind. Unable to stomach being around him, right now, you hurriedly sprinted to the other side of the room. You paid no mind to the way he called your name, a blend of anger and exasperation there.

“Are you done…?”

You didn’t look at him, keeping your angry gaze on the floor. Besides, you didn’t have to in order to know what he looked like. You could imagine it perfectly—steely blue eyes cold and intently focused on you, hands on his hips and jaw clenched so hard you’d swear it was about to break. When you finally did glance at him, you were proven right.

“This little…” he waved his hand about. “...tantrum. You’re finished?”

“Fuck you,” you whispered.

You couldn’t hold in your tears, and they spilled over without your permission. Rafe sucked his teeth at the sight, and when he took a step towards you, you made to leave the living room completely. Your sons were with your mom—they would be the whole weekend—because that was the plan. They would stay with grandma for a few days while you went to Charlotte to visit Pope at school. Rafe was supposed to be handling business with Ward, anyway.

He was not supposed to be sabotaging your plans and canceling car rentals and flights and ruining your entire weekend.

Rafe stopped you before you could get far, and you didn’t even attempt to get away, too defeated and upset to smack him square across the face like you wanted. His fingers dug into your skin, and you wondered if a light bruise would be there in the morning. You could tell by the way he held you that he was upset, but you didn’t understand what he had to be upset about. It had been four years since Rafe started this fucked up dynamic he called a family and over two since you’d reluctantly said ‘I do’. You even gave him another son…and yet…

It was clear now that he still didn’t trust you.

Sure, you had the stray thought or two here and there about escaping, but when it was all said and done, those were just thoughts. Your children meant too much to you to just take off, and even if you ever got to that point one day where you’d happily sacrifice their chance to grow up with a mother just to have your own freedom, Rafe would never let that happen. Your fate was sealed from the very moment he’d decided you were it for him.

“I haven’t seen my brother in months. It’s his last year of school, and I didn’t want the next time I see him to be at his Goddamn graduation,” you spat, lips trembling. “You said you were okay with it!”

“Yeah, I was,” Rafe replied in a tone that hinted at more to come.

You were right.

“...but then I remembered that this would be the first time we’d be apart for a distance more than thirty miles and how way up there in Charlotte you could disappear to wherever you wanted and-.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about any of that if we had a normal relationship,” you cut him off, a sneer on your lips. “You wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of me running away from you if you’d never hurt me and raped me and damn near threatened me into marrying you.”

At those words, Rafe let you go as if you burned him, and you reminded yourself how much Rafe hated to be reminded of why you were really here. You were positive he sometimes convinced himself that this relationship was as real as it could be—the perfect parents with the perfect children and the perfect marriage. After all, it was what everyone on the outside saw when they were looking in.

The difference between the two of you it seemed was that you knew it was all pretend.

Rafe liked to believe that it wasn’t.

“All of that aside…do you really think I’d leave them?”

Your question came out whispered, and you didn’t miss the slight twitch in Rafe’s face. Leave them…not leave him. Rafe was smart in knowing that knocking you up would be the only thing to truly prevent you from leaving, and yet he absolutely hated to be reminded of it. To be reminded that it was not—and never would be—him keeping you here.

His expression morphed, a shadow passing over his features as he glanced away, shoving a hand into his pocket.

“I can’t take that chance,” was all he said, making more tears spill over. “Pope’s not going anywhere. You can always see him another time.”

You pulled your lip between your teeth in anger, and when he reached for you, he was stopped by a harsh slap to the cheek. Your lips wouldn’t stop trembling, and you just stared at him as he rubbed his face.

“You have taken so much from me, Rafe,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes at him. “If your goal is to make sure we’re both absolutely miserable…then keep it up.”

You turned away from him, refusing to spare him another look as you made your way upstairs to unpack your suitcase.

Most days in your marriage were okay. They weren’t awful, and they weren't’ exactly anything you’d jump at the chance to relive. They were simply just…okay. On those days, Rafe would wake you up with a kiss, sometimes more than that, and you’d start your day—usually something that consisted of preparing for your children to wake up. They made those days stand a chance at being somewhat enjoyable, and you thought to yourself that maybe one day when they were old enough, you’d tell them how much they did for you without even knowing.

On the days where your marriage wasn’t okay, you were usually overcome with how you really felt about Rafe. Those days didn’t come as often as they used to—a fact you didn’t like to let your mind linger on—but when they did, they usually ended in your tears.

…and Rafe pinning you down and just taking what he wanted.

Rafe had felt entitled to your body long before he put the ring on your finger, but after you took his last name, his entitlement went to an entirely new level. You recalled a day where you had the house to yourselves and how silly you’d been to think Rafe would respect your wish to be alone.

“Do you know what this means?” he’d harshly asked, squeezing your left hand as he held it up for both of you to see.

The 4-carat marquise solitaire glinted under the bright kitchen light.

“It means you’re my wife, it means you’re mine,” he’d hissed, getting in real close and touching your nose with his. “Do you get how patient I’ve been? How patient I am?”

You’d shrank away from him, wincing at the slight pain in your left hand.

“I know this hasn’t been easy for you, but it’s been years,” he’d told you. “There’s a ring on your finger and two little boys walking around with my face. You need to suck it up!”

The counter had been harsh against your stomach as he bent you over it.

The good days in your marriage were even more rare, and even those ended in you feeling sad for yourself. It was usually a whole day of your boys keeping a smile on your face, the feeling so infectious that even Rafe couldn’t make it go away. And that’s how you’d find yourself smiling at him and playing with your children together and actually acting like a family. Only…on those rare days…it wasn’t acting. For just several hours, everything that Rafe was and everything he’d done would be so far from your mind.

You’d find yourself bathing your youngest together—your oldest only listening to you when it was time to wash behind his ears—cooing over the baby that was just shy of turning one years old. You’d let your son run into your arms as he hid from the ‘tickle monster’, playfully pushing at Rafe’s chest as you protected the three year old from him. Sometimes you’d even fall asleep with your head so close to Rafe’s lap as he read to them, your son begging you both to stay until he fell asleep.

Of all the days in your marriage that you’d anticipated being the hardest, the ‘good’ days were not among them. Reality would set in during the morning, sometimes even that same night, and your chest would ache as you held back tears because what you and Rafe had was not real. It wasn’t a real marriage, and you weren’t a real family, and on those days where you forgot that, the truth just hit so much harder. All of the anger and disappointment would come back…and then the fear would set in.

It scared you how easily you could slip into that headspace and live in some alternate reality where Rafe was a good husband and your children hadn’t been the product of rape and you didn’t have errant thoughts of what it would be like to be free of him. It scared you how good it felt to forget it all, how a day might come where instead of finding yourself slipping into that mindset, you just…chose it.

It would be so easy.

…but you felt like you owed it to yourself to hate him forever.

Sometimes he made hating him so easy…and then other times so, so hard.

“They’re so sweet to you,” he murmured in the low lighting, both of your kids fast asleep in their room. 

You’d been trying to find sleep of your own, but Rafe’s phone call with Ward left you both up long after you wanted to be. You were unfortunately wide awake when slid in beside you, and your unopened eyes didn’t fool Rafe in the slightest. He knew you were awake.

“I would hope so,” you murmured, staring at the back of your eyelids as he lightly traced patterns into your satin covered stomach.

Your husband chuckled to himself.

“I mean they look at you like you hung the moon,” he quietly continued. “Especially your shadow…”

He was referring to your oldest.

“I’m barely there for him whenever you’re in the same room,” he whispered. “He’s happy that I’m home and he hugs me, but then it’s straight back to mommy.”

You slowly opened your eyes as Rafe’s hand became flat against your stomach, gently rubbing it.

“He treats you like a princess…”

You met his gaze at that, and you couldn’t quite place the look in Rafe’s eyes.

“...and I’m especially happy about it on days when I don’t.”

You sighed at that, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m glad that he’s nothing like me…”

You remembered Rafe saying something similar years ago before the boy in question had even been born, and you blinked as he leaned in, gently ghosting his lips over your cheek. You were tempted to push him away, but then you asked yourself if you wanted to start a fight so late in the night. Instead, you turned your head to face Rafe, your lips a hair’s width away from his own.

“I’m glad he’s nothing like you too,” you whispered.

You didn’t miss the way his face fell at that, a tick in his jaw that told you your words had the desired effect. Instead of saying something along the lines of what you both knew he wanted to say, Rafe merely heaved a sigh, still gently rubbing your stomach. He suddenly pushed himself up onto his elbow, looking down at you.

A smirk ghosted over his lips.

“I want another baby.”

Those words were the last thing you’d been expecting, and your eyes widened just a tad.

“...what?”

“Let’s try for a girl this time,” he suggested, and realizing that he was indeed serious, you sat up.

His hand fell away from your stomach.

“This time?” you murmured, more to yourself than him. “I don’t recall trying for anything the previous times.”

The mention of what he did to you had Rafe going silent, and when you looked at him, his nostrils were flaring.

“It can be different this time-.”

“How?” you wondered, frowning at him. “How will it be different this time? The only time I touch you is when I’m forced to, and I don’t know, that sounds pretty fucking familiar to me.”

Rafe’s hand had circled around your chin before you had time to react—he was sitting up now too—and you both just cooly stared at each other. He looked like he wanted to hurt you, and you stared back, just waiting for him to prove you right. He seemed to be toying with the thought, and after a few moments, he slowly exhaled through his nose.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, his blue eyes following the action.

A million thoughts were racing through his mind, that much you could tell by the emotions that flickered over his features. Eventually he settled on one, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“You’re not always unhappy…”

It was said like a statement, but there was a lilt there that told you he wanted an answer.

“No,” you eventually responded, honestly. “Not always.”

He nodded.

“...but I’m unhappy more than I’m happy.”

He closed his eyes at that, and you swallowed.

“What did you expect, Rafe? Sure, four years is a lot, but it’s also not when I think about everything you did to me.”

He dropped his hand and pushed himself to his feet. You watched him stand there, staring at the wall with his hands on his hips.

“...and what makes it worse is that you’re not even sorry. I know how much you want me to ‘just get over it’, but how am I expected to get over it when we both know you’d do it all over again so long as it got you the same result?” you choked out. “You’re not sorry for any of it.”

You blinked away tears.

“...and now you’re mad at me so much because I won’t roll over and play house.”

You saw his shoulders heave, and you could tell how much this conversation was frustrating him. Rafe really hated to be reminded of his own actions, hated to be reminded of the fact that your relationship was where it was because of him. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were the one trapped in this gilded cage…not him.

“So, if you want another baby…” you quietly started. “...either something needs to change…or you just embrace the beast we both know you can be.”

His eyes snapped to yours at that, and as much as it made your heart skip a beat, Rafe rarely scared you anymore. You’d seen him and experienced him at his absolute worst. There really wasn’t much he could do to you anymore that would shock you…and he knew it. 

His baby blues glinted dangerously, and you bit your tongue.

He did the opposite of what you expected, and you watched him turn away from you to leave the room. You didn’t relax, knowing he’d come back, but you did heave a tired sigh, telling yourself that sleep couldn’t come fast enough.

Rafe’s hand tightened around your throat as he kissed you, the alcohol on your tongue making the kiss taste sweet. The world was moving so slow around you, and every place that Rafe touched felt like you were being gently electrocuted. Deep in the crevices of your mind, you knew that something was wrong. You hadn’t kissed Rafe like this in years, not since the early days of your relationship when you thought you might have loved him, and butterflies were in your stomach at one look from him.

You recalled the sight of your empty wine glass on the carpet, the rest of the red wine you didn’t drink staining the white fabric.

Your kids were asleep and the house was quiet and you were kissing your husband like you used to—back when he wasn’t your husband. Rafe had your back to the wall just barely on the inside of your bedroom, your hand struggling to reach out to the door. Rafe grabbed it, threading his fingers through your own, and you made a slight noise of protest.

He made a shushing noise into the kiss.

“Just relax…”

Relax.

That word triggered something in you, and you pressed your other hand to his chest. You were far too relaxed to be sober, and considering you only had one glass of wine, you knew that other substances were at play here. You recalled Rafe voicing his desire for another baby just the other day…and you recalled the slight back and forth it’d created. You expected one of two things out of Rafe, but neither of them included a scenario where you were too inebriated to properly fight back against him.

There was something especially sinister about Rafe creating this false sense of consent.

His lips traveled down towards your neck as he bent his head, and you felt like you didn’t have control over your body as you threw your head back. You shakily exhaled when both of his hands descended towards your waist, lifting you and forcing you towards the California king. When he settled you both onto it, all pretense was gone.

“Don’t you want a little girl?” he whispered against your skin, his fingers dancing along the place from where your shirt had ridden up. “Hmm? I know you get sick of being with just us boys.”

You made a noise that was unintelligible even to your ears, pushing at his head, but it was of no use. Whatever he slipped into your drink clearly wasn’t in his, Rafe having all of his strength and wits about him as he pinned you down. He kissed you again—slow—as his hands circled around your wrists. It took your breath away, and your lashes fluttered when he descended.

“A princess for my princess…”

You reached out to place a hand on the bed to steady yourself. Although you knew it was the room spinning, not you, and so focused on that, you didn’t even realize what Rafe was doing until the cool air you’d briefly felt against your core was replaced by his mouth. The action made your back arch, and—against your will—you reached down to press your hand against his head.

He hummed in between your thighs.

“You never let me do this anymore,” you heard him whisper, his breath against your skin before he dived back in.

To be fair, you never let him do anything, but especially this. It was too intimate, too loving, and those words were so far from the true nature of your relationship it wasn’t even funny. After all, Rafe was now at a place where he had to drug you just to get you to stop fighting against him. You found it interesting because he never minded the fight before. In fact, you’d even say that some part of him enjoyed it.

You wondered what had changed.

His head moved back and forth between your thighs, and it made you squirm. One of Rafe’s hands reached up to dig into your leg, holding you still. The other found your hand, and you were unable to remember that you didn’t like holding his hand. Another gesture that you felt was too intimate, something Rafe always liked to pretend that your relationship was.

Just when you were on the brink of coming all over his tongue, your husband pulled away, but not before pressing a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh. With stars just barely floating in your vision, you laid there, eyes falling closed as you fought to regulate your breathing.

A voice in your head told you that you didn’t want this, and that you needed to get up…but you couldn’t find the strength to.

When Rafe’s hands were on you again, they were pulling away every piece of fabric they touched, and you couldn’t help the tears that kissed your eyes. Being forced to feign compliance in your own assault somehow hurt a thousand times worse than if Rafe had simply grabbed you and held you down. You wondered if this made it easier on him, and you thought about how much Rafe hated being reminded of the things he did to you.

It was like it hurt him to remember it that way, to acknowledge it for what it was.

When he slid into you, you couldn’t help the small whimper you let out, eyes rolling as he stretched you out. Rafe’s hands were on you, pulling you closer, and as if your arms had a mind of their own, you threw them around him. His chest was pressed to yours as he thrust into you, and you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. He cursed when he sank into you again, and your toes curled.

“You’re so mean to me, you know that?”

One of his hands tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck.

“...have to drug my own wife just to get her to fuck me…”

Your nails dragged along the expanse of his back, and Rafe hummed at the feeling. You’d forgotten what it felt like to lie beneath him and just let him have his way with you. It felt like so long since he hadn’t had to force you down and take his cock despite what you may have wanted. Although, your current position wasn’t all that different, but you couldn’t ignore how relaxed you were from whatever he’d slipped you.

Rafe shifted, hands pressed into the mattress on either side of your head. His blue eyes glinted in the low lighting, and you blearily blinked up at him as he gazed down at you. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours while still holding your gaze. Your lips parted at a particularly hard thrust, and the corner of his lips curved upwards at the sight.

Deep in the back of your mind, you knew you didn’t want this, but it was for so many reasons that you were struggling to remember. For the time being, all you could focus on was the curve of his cock as he repeatedly pushed it into you and how good it made you feel. One of your legs hooked around his waist, and Rafe’s perfect teeth winked at you as he grinned.

“I missed this, beautiful,” he whispered. “You know that?”

The bed jostled from your movements, and Rafe glanced down between you to watch himself disappear into you. 

“I can’t wait to fill you up,” he told you, making your heart skip a beat and reminding you of how and why you’d found yourself in this position in the first place. “Can’t wait to see you swollen and round again and fucking glowing.”

You murmured his name, but you couldn’t tell if it was in protest or not.

Your mind was all over the place, and when Rafe’s hips curved into yours again, you arched your chest up into his. Sweat clung to your frame, and you briefly wondered how made you would be at him in the morning. You knew this wouldn’t be his only attempt—Rafe always proving to be more than thorough when trying for a baby—and you now weakly wondered about having to be cautious of the food in your own house.

You could tell when he was close, his thrusts becoming sloppy and his breathing picking up. He started  to kiss you more, each kiss becoming  messier and more open mouthed than the last. In your inebriated state of mind, you kissed him back, alarm bells going off deep within your bones. Your own breathing was labored, like you couldn’t get air into your lungs fast enough.

When Rafe came the first time—and you knew that it would be the first of the night—he grunted in your ear as he spilled into you. Your nails were trailing along his skin as he plunged his cock into you, not even stopping when you felt him start to soften, lazily thrusting into your folds. Your own climax was just around the corner when he spoke.

“I will fuck you all night,” he whispered against your cheek, his tone vaguely threatening. “I will fuck you as many times as it takes until you give me what I want.”

He leaned back a bit, his nose touching yours as he tilted his head, eyeing you in a way that made your skin grow cold.

“...and I will do whatever I have to to make you…” he looked between your unfocused eyes. “...agreeable.”

[lovelivision]

BAD ROMANCE.ᐟ

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: gojo satoru/reader

𝐖𝐂: 9.4k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your love life is in a tragic state, all your dates go poorly and just when you think you found a nice guy you could like, that ends poorly too. good thing you have your best friend gojo to look out for you !

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, cheating (not done by reader or gojo), dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting, praise, p in v sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, big dick!gojo, tease/mean!gojo (he likes embarrassing reader), jealous!gojo, gojo is down BAD, use of pet names, that's all !! (i think :3)

Checking the time again, you sigh, it’s bordering on an hour since you first sat down to wait for your date. The thought that you had been stood up entered your mind maybe half an hour ago but now it’s practically been cemented.

Maybe you should just cut your losses and leave but this is a nice place, it’d be a shame to waste the reservation. Hope that your date is going to miraculously show up has left you though. Opening your texts, you think of who to message, the idea to message Gojo briefly crossing your mind before you decide he is the worst possible person to tell about this.

Instead, you message Shoko, asking if she’s free and telling her of your failed date. It takes her a few minutes to reply and when she does, instead of a straightforward response, you receive a cryptic and ambiguous saluting emoji. Deciding to take that as confirmation of her presence, you begin waiting… again.

You think you’ve reached your waiting quota of the year, no more waiting on people. Why do people never seem to value your time? While lamenting to yourself silently, you don’t notice the arrival of someone incredibly familiar, someone incredibly exasperating.

“I’m hurt you know.”

The words startle you and as you look up to find the source of them, you’re confronted with Gojo standing beside you. Pouting like he’s feeling extremely slighted by you for some indiscernible reason.

You almost sputter at him, his presence completely unexpected, “What are you doing here?”

He ignores your question, continuing with his faux pain, “My best friend gets stood up and instead of messaging me… she messages Shoko? That stings.”

Sighing off his dramatics, you ask again, “What are you doing here, Gojo?”

“What else would I be here for?” He smiles big at you, moving to sit in the chair opposite you, flopping down and making himself comfortable, “I’m here to be your date!”

Propping your head up on your hand, you grumble at him, “How did you even know I was stood up?”

“I was with Shoko when you messaged her,” he shrugs easily.

You squint at him, “Why are you here and not her?”

“Because it is my duty as your best friend to be there for you.”

So stubborn about the weirdest things, you’ve known each other forever and sure, maybe he is your best friend, but this is something that has bruised your ego a bit. It’s silly, but for some reason… you don’t really want for Gojo to see you like this.

Sulking, you huff, “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t wanna waste the reservation.”

“Don’t lie, you dressed up all cute and the dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up?” He frowns like he’ll get angry if he thinks about it for too long, “It’s a big deal.”

“You’re more upset about it then I am,” you play at indifference and while you don’t really care about your failed date, you are thinking really hard about how he said you dressed cute.

“That’s just ‘cause you’re always settling for less than what you deserve,” he grows a little more irritated, like his observation annoys him more than it annoys you.

Defending yourself with a grumble, “That’s not true.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he smiles in a manner that exudes disbelief. Because it does, Gojo has witnessed you settle for less nearly every single day of your lives and every time he has to grit his teeth and cope.

Crossing your arms, you snark at him, “Don’t patronise me, Gojo.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he still has that smile plastered on his face.

You glare at him from across the table but sit in silence, not really having anything else to say to him right now. Annoyed at yourself for losing the back and forth between the two of you for not the first time and definitely not the last.

Gojo, however, is not capable of sitting in silence for too long and so, he whines at you, “Anyways, I thought I was always your first call when things went wrong.”

Looking away from him, you scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly, “You are… for other things.”

Catching onto your meaning, he asks, “So, you never call me when things go wrong on dates?”

“…Correct.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not really something I thought would matter to you this much.” The truth is, you’ve been on much worse dates, dates where they actually show up but prove themselves to be some of the worst people. You always call Shoko though… that or you just brush it off.

Telling Gojo about your dating life feels weird, it’s not like he tells you about his.

His mouth downturns at your remark, “Anything that involves you matters to me.”

“It’s not like you tell me about your dating life,” you counter, starting to feel somewhat badly.

“I would, if I had one,” he leans back into his chair more, “I’m not currently dating though.”

Sheepishly, you say, “Oh…well…I am.”

“I know that now,” his eyes focus on you, “Just how many dates have you gone on recently?”

“Recently?” he nods at you, “Uhm… a few every couple of weeks, not heaps but… frequently enough that getting stood up isn’t the worst thing to happen to me lately.” You laugh slightly at a memory, “You know, on one of them, the guy actually got back with his ex during our date, like he–”

You cut yourself off when you realise Gojo isn’t experiencing the same amount of enjoyment at the recounting of your date a few weeks ago. “Why is this bugging you?”

“It’s not,” his tone is certain but the expression he’s wearing is anything but. Clearly annoyed by something.

Challenging his logic, you ask, “Do you want me to tell you about my dating life?”

He thinks on it for a second, “No.”

Tilting your head at him, “See? That’s what I thought–”

“–But I want you to call me when things go badly,” his gaze even on you, unwavering.

“You’re annoying,” you huff out a breath.

His face brightens up again, “And yet I’m still your best friend.”

You can only roll your eyes at him because he’s right, he’s completely annoying and also completely your best friend.

★

After that failed date that turned into you having dinner with Gojo, you decided you would listen to him and call him whenever a date goes south. He seemed actually bothered by the fact you weren’t relying on him more, so you decided that if something does go wrong, you’d tell him about it.

However, your dating life has been going pretty swimmingly the past couple weeks. You’ve actually found someone you wouldn’t mind being with, having gone on a few dates with him now. You’ve pretty much been exclusively seeing him, he’s taken you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Previous dates barely made it through one meal, but this guy managed to appeal to you enough to take you out multiple times.

It’s your fault that you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe he was different but as you sit on the couch in his apartment, his assumed girlfriend yelling at him, you can see he’s just like everyone else in the dating scene these days. It’s that or you just have really bad luck when it comes to your romantic life.

For the third time, you try to leave but he holds you back, “Wait no, please don’t go, this is just a misunderstanding!”

You shrug him off you, his touch making you feel disgusting.

Going to say something in reply, but his girlfriend speaks first, “So now you’re cheating on me and trying to keep her here?”

He sputters, like he forgot she was here for a moment, “No! Babe, I’m not cheating on you!”

Awkwardly, you scratch at the back of your neck, “Listen, I’m going to be so honest, I think you’re a bad person and any interest I had in you is gone. I’d just really like to leave now.”

He’s wearing an annoyed look on his face, “How do you even expect to get home? I drove you here.”

She scoffs at him from by the door, foot tapping impatiently, “Now you’re offering her a ride home? Are you fucking serious right now?”

Walking to the front door, you shuffle around his girlfriend, “I’m just gonna… slide right past you.” Pausing after opening the door and turning back to address her, “Uhm… Just in case he tries lying to you… we went on multiple dates over the past couple weeks.” Standing awkwardly for an extra moment as her face twists in realisation, “Bye!” You rush out the door, speed walking to the elevator.

The screaming and yelling gets louder from their apartment, able to hear them until you finally get in the elevator and start heading down to the ground floor. In the lobby, you pull out your phone and sigh dejectedly, scrolling for Gojo’s contact, you need a ride home.

He picks up pretty quickly, “Hello?”

You get straight to the point, not feeling particularly great right about now, “…I need a ride home.”

“Well, good evening to you too,” he replies, voice full of mirth, “You know. people normally exchange pleasantries over the phone before immediately asking for things, I’ve been told – by you actually – that just asking for things straight up can be read as rude, so–”

“–Satoru.”

The use of his name has him going quiet, stopping his tangent instead to ask, “Where are you?”

You’re tired, your mood travelling through the phone as you answer, “Some apartment, I’ll text you the address…”

“You okay?” He checks.

You can’t help the pause before your reply, “…Yeah.”

His concern for you growing at your seeming uncertainty, “You gonna tell me what happened?”

It’s a little embarrassing, you think, but yeah, you’ll tell him about it, “Later… I just wanna go home now.”

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up before you get to thank him.

You text him the address and then head out the front of the building, waiting for him to get you. While you’re waiting, you find yourself wondering if that girl will stay with him, you hope she doesn’t, she deserves better than him.

When Gojo pulls up, you silently slip into the passenger seat, you’re expecting him to immediately drive away but he turns and looks at you. His eyes examining you carefully, scrutinising you.

Turning your head to the side, “What?”

“Just making sure you’re okay.” His hands reach out and for a second you think he’s going to touch you, but he pulls on the seatbelt and clicks it into place for you.

You mumble out at him, dismissive, “I’m fine.”

He hums at you, in that way that tells you he doesn’t believe you even a little bit but he’s letting it go for now. Instead focusing on getting you home.

Back at your apartment, Gojo follows you all the way inside, you thought maybe he would just drop you home and leave you alone, but he’s followed you into your living room. You don’t know if you have the energy for him right now, feeling so drained. Probably feeling this way because you’re incapable of finding a decent guy to date.

Couch looking so inviting, you flop down onto it face first, mumbling out, “Gojo, will you just be my boyfriend?”

He seems taken aback by your sudden ask, choking on his own spit, coughing out a confused, “What?”

Sighing, you cryptically answer, “I don’t think I’m built for the dating scene.”

When he finishes hacking up a lung, he taps your legs, to which you hold them up so he can sit down. His hand tugging them back down once he’s sat, “What happened, sweetheart?”

Your voice is still muffled by the couch cushions, “Been seeing a guy for a couple weeks now–”

“–The same one?” Gojo cuts you off.

Humming out a, “Yes and–”

Again, he cuts you off, “–That’s pretty serious…”

I know but­–”

“–Why didn’t you tell me about him?” His tone growing slightly alarmed by the apparent seriousness of your dating life.

Becoming somewhat annoyed, you push yourself out of the cushions and sit up to face him, your legs still resting in his lap, “You said you didn’t wanna hear about my dating life.” You point an accusatory finger at him.

“Yeah, but casually dating and actively seeing someone is different–” He’s not really sure if he’s making a fair point or not but sticking to it like he is.

“–Does it matter?” You’re looking at him incredulously, not sure if there is a difference.

He’s steadfast in his opinion, “Of course it matters.”

“I don’t think it should, especially since–”

“–If you’re seeing the same guy multiple times that means you were actually interested in him­–” He’s annoyed at himself for not realising you were seeing the same guy, for not asking questions, not realising how serious you were getting about one guy. So caught up in this one fact that he’s lost sight of his original purpose of being here.

“–Can you stop cutting me off!” You raise your voice at him, getting sick of how much he’s been interrupting you, “I’ve been trying to tell you that he had a girlfriend the whole time,” you purse your lips and look away from him, feeling embarrassed, “That’s why I asked you to come get me.”

“Oh…” He feels bad now.

“…Yeah, she showed up while I was there, and it was really uncomfortable, and I didn’t exactly feel safe.” You sigh, slumping, “And now I just feel really bad about dating.”

Completely serious when he suggests, “Maybe you should stop.”

“Stop dating?”

Consistent in his confirmation, “Yes.”

Meeting his gaze again, “How else am I going to meet someone?”

He rolls his eyes at your question, irritated for reasons unknown to you, “Why do you need to date someone now anyways?”

You don’t really see his point, what does he mean ‘why?’… why else do people date? “Maybe I’m lonely, maybe I seek companionship, maybe I’m like every other normal person?”

“You have me though,” you’d think he was joking if he weren’t so straight faced.

Unsure how to go about answering when it seems pretty straight forward to you, “Gojo… that’s not the same thing, we’re friends, we don’t look at each other that way.”

“Says you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’d date you in a heartbeat,” he folds his arms over his chest, “In fact, you’re the only person I want to date.”

You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, “Get real, that’s not what I meant.”

His head tilts at you, “What did you mean then?”

“I’m talking about romantic and sexual attraction,” you’re avoiding his gaze again.

So casual in how he bluntly asks, “You think I’m not sexually attracted to you?”

His question catches you off guard slightly, “It’s not just about sexual attraction, Gojo,” you shake your head, “if that were the case, I’d just be having one night stands all the time, I want a relationship with someone…”

He nods his head like he suddenly understands, “Ah, so you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?”

Disbelieving when you look at him, “Are you serious right now? We’re friends.”

“Yeah, we are friends, but I also happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to you.”

How do you even respond to a confession like that? He’s not even flustered, completely nonchalant in how he’s just told you that he’s interested in you. “I don’t think–”

“–Are you going to tell me you’re not interested in me? Even a little bit?”

“We’re friends.”

“Is that the only thing stopping you?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “Because if it is, then it’s a little arbitrary, no?”

The beginning of a frown settles on your features, “What are you trying to get me to say? That I’d date you if we weren’t friends, that I’d fuck you?”

He smiles at you, “Sure, but if you would if we weren’t friends, I’m saying you should even though we are.”

Frown deepening, “You’re being serious?”

“I’m being so serious,” he leans in slightly, hand moving to your face, thumb smoothing over the crease between your brows.

Looking at his lips before catching yourself and turning your head to the side, away from his touch, away from his enticing lips.

He sighs at your reaction, “You know, I’ve been interested in you from the beginning, and maybe I’m an idiot for not saying anything but watching you seriously try dating someone else might just kill me.”

You had no idea he liked you, you’ve liked him at different points in your life too, but he always seemed so out of reach from you, and you never wanted to ruin the friendship, so you forced yourself to move on. It feels a little unfair that you’re finding out now he’s liked you the whole time, “What are you asking of me?”

“I’m asking you to give me a chance,” his hand gently guides your face to look at him again, “I’m asking you to seriously try dating me.”

You’re trying to make a decision, trying to figure out how to answer him, if you should even give him a chance but the way he’s looking at you, how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips is distracting you.

Brows pulling up, voice quieter than before, “Gojo, you need to stop looking at me like that if you want an answer.”

“Like what?” He plays dumb.

“Like you really wanna kiss me,” you murmur back.

“Can’t help it…” he leans in a little bit more, “Maybe if you let me kiss you, I’ll stop.”

“Satoru,” you warn.

“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours for a moment, trying to see what you want.

He’s making you dizzy, “I can’t make a choice when you’re this close.”

Humming at you, “Why not?”

“Can’t think,” you blurt it out before really thinking about how it will come across.

He’s smiling smugly, “Then don’t.”

You don’t know who leans in first, all you know is his lips are on yours and they’re soft. Kissing you gently, trying to learn how you like to be kissed. Growing more insistent the longer you let him kiss you, the years of his need bleeding into it.

One of his hands traveling down your body, resting on your hip, the other cradling your face. He’s leaning into you more, pushing your body down into the couch, him following behind it, never parting from your lips very long.

Hand now holding himself above you, kiss growing urgent, tongue licking into your mouth, meeting yours in a way that makes your body tingle. If you thought his proximity was making you dizzy before than his kiss might have you actually passing out. Skin growing hot at how his hand on your face angles you, how he deepens the kiss effortlessly.

If Gojo were more aware of himself, of the precarious position he’s put himself in, he might be a little bit more careful with how feverish his kisses are and how needy he’s getting but when he’s finally getting to kiss you after years of not being able to, he can’t really control himself. The little control he does have, slipping when you moan into his mouth, his own moan shared in the kiss.

It's you who parts the kiss, it had to be because he certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it. If he had his way, he’d have his mouth on you until he died. In the back of his mind, he knew that kissing you would be good, but he didn’t think he’d get so lost in it. Somewhat embarrassed at himself for how aroused he’s gotten over your lips on his.

Your huffed breaths are intermingled with how close you both are to each other, Gojo hovering over you, speaking into your mouth, “Have you made a decision yet?”

You’re having trouble thinking still, especially with how his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, “I…uhmm…”

When he realises how dazed you are, two things happen. One; his ego grows about ten times bigger and two; he pulls back from you, still close enough that if you tugged on him, you could kiss him again but enough to hopefully give you room to think.

“Come on, don’t keep a guy waiting,” he’s taunting you lightly, taking joy in how hazy your eyes are as you look up at him.

“Okay,” you nod.

“Hmm? Okay what?”

Taking another moment to clear your brain fog, you answer again, “Okay, I will seriously try dating you.”

“Can’t date anyone else while you do,” he conditions.

“Okay,” agreeing easily.

He adds, “Have to seriously think about me being your boyfriend.”

Again, agreeing, “Okay.”

“Have to keep kissing me right now,” smile growing on his features.

“Ok–” frowning at him when you realise, “–Hey.”

“You don’t want to?” His hand tilts your head up by your chin, looking down into your eyes, “Because you look like you want to.”

Pouting at him, “Don’t be cruel.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” his smile evil as he continues to look down at you.

Leveling him with an even stare, you state, “I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”

“Got a dirty mind, huh? All I asked for was a kiss.”

You glare at him and then try to avoid his gaze, voice smaller than before, “You don’t kiss like that’s all you want.”

His smile is crooked as he asks, “And how do I kiss?”

Feeling your skin flare at his taunting question, at how he leans in again, his mouth right over yours, “Dizzyingly.”

He breathes out an amused laugh before he’s slotting his mouth back over yours, how you described his kiss is accurate. He kisses you in such a way that you can’t think straight even if you really want to, which is why it’s probably a bad idea to keep letting him kiss you if you don’t want to sleep with him before you even get a first date.

Abruptly parting your mouth from his, gasping out, “Wait,” taking a second to catch your breath. Gojo groans softly at the loss of your lips, his forehead resting on yours waiting for you to speak.

“What’s wrong?” He asks when you don’t continue.

“You need to stop kissing me.”

“Oh?” He hums at you in thought, his lips now trailing down the side of your face, only to rest right by your ear, “And why’s that?”

His voice has goose bumps raising on your skin, “If you keep kissing me like that…” your volume gets quieter as you mumble out, “…I’ll wanna have sex with you.”

He has the fucking audacity to laugh at you, “That worked up by a few kisses, huh?” Taunting you like he isn’t the hardest he’s ever been, cock twitching at your confession.

“Shuddup.”

His words are dripping with delight, “At least we know you’re sexually attracted to me.”

He licks lightly at your ear, and you feel like you almost jump out of your skin, gasping at it. Hands reaching out to push back on his chest, “You’re a mean man, Gojo.”

“At this point…” He looks you over, unmoved by your hands, “…I think it would be meaner to deprive yourself.”

“We are not sleeping together for the first time on my couch before we even go on a date,” you’re trying to stay steadfast but he’s making it hard when he keeps looking at you like that.

“So… you’re saying I should take you to the bedroom?” When you look at him in exasperation, he smiles softly, “I’m just kidding, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, but I will point out – for the last time – that you look an awful lot like you want to.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to… I just feel like if you’re gonna make me seriously consider you then I should date you properly too,” you avoid his gaze, feeling unusually sincere.

Abruptly, he states, “It wouldn’t be our first date though.”

“What?”

He’s a little distant when he answers, having trouble concentrating on the conversation when you’re pouting your lips at him like you are, “I count a couple weeks ago as our first date.”

“When I was stood up?” You scoff, “That does not count.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t even planned.”

“No but we ate dinner together and you were dressed awful cute, I count it as a date,” smirk present on his face as he continues to hover over you.

Ignoring his compliment, you continue to try and reason, “We were still just friends then though.”

“So, we aren’t ‘just friends’ now?” He’s being a smart ass, he knows what you mean but he’s not going to let up on this, taking it as a small victory in making you think of him as more than just a friend.

You return earnestly, “I don’t wanna count it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t meant to be you on that date…” before he can get hurt over those words, you clarify, “…don’t get me wrong, I had fun and I’m glad you showed up, but it wasn’t planned to be you… when we go on our first date… I want it to be meant for you.” You’re unsure if you verbalised yourself in a way that makes sense, feeling much more nervous all of a sudden.

He’s looking at you so intently and you’re worried you’ve upset him somehow, “I know you said I need to stop kissing you, but that’s what I want more than anything right now.” He leans in closer, pausing just shy of your lips.

His words make your heart stutter, throwing caution to the wind as you close the distance between the two of you again, kissing him fully. Letting his mouth consume your ability to think critically, all too happy to fall into him.

Your control of the situation is slipping more and more away from you and so is the ability to care, not minding at all how you’re becoming more and more okay with how hot your body is starting to feel.

Hands reaching up and fisting the material of his shirt, pulling him down into you, his hips colliding with yours. Almost entirely instinctually – and somewhat purposefully – your legs wrap around his lower half. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, gripping the fattest part of it harshly.

You both moan into the kiss and he parts his mouth from yours, voice straining when he speaks, “Sweetheart, if you really don’t want to do anything more than this then you need to tell me to get off you right now.”

Looking at him through your lashes, you play coy, “But I like having you on top of me.”

A shiver runs down his spine, “You’re evil,” he grunts, fighting the urge to grind down into you.

He’s been pining after you for years and it feels like torture to be this close to you, pelvis pressed up against yours, having you so pliant and needy under him. He can feel his sanity slipping from him the longer you stay like this, and your words make it harder for him to pull away.

“Satoru–” when you say his name his hips jut into yours, making you gasp against him.

He hisses an apology through his teeth, “Sorry – fuck – sorry, what’s up?”

Deciding to be forward, “Take me to my room?”

Trying to hide the excitement from his face, he checks with you, “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you give a small nod, feeling shy.

You really do want to though, more than anything. Only initially so hesitant because this doesn’t feel like the right way to do things but then again, your whole relationship with Gojo is a little less than conventional at times.

When he determines that you’re sure of yourself, he’s off you in the blink of an eye. Quick in his movements as he pulls you up along with him. Before you can even really register that you’re off the couch, you’re thrown over his shoulder as he walks hurriedly to your room.

“Someone’s eager,” you laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.

The chuckle he returns is humourless, “You have no fucking idea.”

You’re dropped down onto your bed unceremoniously, bouncing slightly at the force of it. Your arms reach out behind you to support yourself, palms splayed against your bedspread. Gojo is already tugging his shirt off and over his head, thrown and lost to some corner of your room.

“Gojo, breathe.”

“Don’t need to breathe,” he smiles large at you, “Do need your pants off though.”

Listening to him, you shimmy your pants down your legs, mumbling to him about how bossy he is.

“You know… I’m hearing a lot of complaining but I am also seeing a whole lot of direction following,” he teases.

You grumble at him, “If you’re going to be like this the whole time then I’m changing my mind.

“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone, especially not with how you’re rubbing your thighs together.” His large hands grip your thighs, “Feeling horny?”

You don’t really want to answer him honestly but denying it feels like a trap, like he’d do something to prove you wrong and the last thing you want is for him to torture you. You’re already so pitifully slick from kissing him.

Fighting with your embarrassment, you give him your best pleading face, “Mhm, really horny.”

The smugness drops from his face, hands suddenly tugging you down the bed as he drops to his knees. Mouth leaving kisses from your knees to your inner thighs, your breath catching in your lungs. Not expecting him to be so forward, though you don’t know what you were expecting if not that.

“Gojo, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” his eyes flick to yours, “Plus, if you wanna take me, you’re gonna need the prep,” smile growing at how your eyes grow wider.

Disbelief clear in your expression, accusing, “You’re full of it.”

He’s not worried about your scepticism, “You’ll find out for yourself in a bit.” He shrugs easily, “Now, can I put my tongue on your pretty pussy, or do you have more to say?”

He asks but his attention is already completely on your covered cunt, a single finger moving under the elastic of the waist band just to snap it back against you. A small noise of shock leaving you, “Ah! Do what you want…”

Oh, he looks so excited by your words, “You mean it?”

You’ll be honest and admit you weren’t really paying attention to what you were saying, brain hazy with how close he is to your core, skin pricking at how you can feel his hot breath against you. Feeling so unusually exposed and sensitive and you can’t tell if you’re that worked up or if he just has that effect on you.

“Mhm,” you’re nodding your head at him, giving him a green light, for what, you’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you want him to do something – anything.

“These are some really cute panties…kinda bothers me,” he’s still playing with the edges of them, annoyed when remembering you were with another guy tonight. Were you going to sleep with him tonight?

Pulling yourself up onto your elbows, you question, “What?”

Eyes flicking towards yours, “I’m a bit of a jealous guy.”

“I know this,” he always has been quick to get worked up over things regarding you, though it makes a little more sense after learning he’s liked you for so long.

He smiles at you, but his eyes are humourless, “Of course you do,” he fists at the material of your panties, “But the idea of another guy getting so close to seeing you in these… has me feeling really annoyed.”

The sound of fabric tearing fills your ears, he’s just ripped your panties off you completely. There is no salvaging them, completely useless as he throws them over his shoulder.

“Hey! those were my good pair!” They were one of the nicer pairs you own.

“Who cares about that?” His tone is dismissive, hands spreading your legs obscenely, eyes greedily looking at your uncovered pussy, “Your cunt is much cuter.”

God, you feel like you might pass out, face suddenly extremely hot, “Don’t be crude.”

“Hmm? …but I think you like it though…” his thumb swipes through your folds and you gasp at him, “Got so much wetter when I said it.”

He’s quick to begin rubbing circles into your clit, thumb giving even pressure. The stimulation has your arms shaking, threatening to give out from under you. Biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning, feeling embarrassed at how intently he’s shamelessly staring at your cunt.

Continuing to speculate, he says, “That or you like being praised…” he smirks evilly, “You like being praised, sweetheart? Being told how good you’re being for me?”

Your heart leaps in your chest, brows upturning, trying to hide your outward reaction to his words, “Hah– No…”

“Such a bad liar,” eyeing your face, “Wearing a really great expression right now though.”

Fighting the urge to grind down, you deny, “Not lying.”

He ignores you, “Could be both though,” he’s continuing to ponder on what you react most to, “Which is it, sweetheart? You like how crude I am, or do you like the praise?”

You don’t plan on answering him, eyes closing harshly against his intense gaze, feeling way too exposed. His touch leaves you and you open your eyes in alarm, trying to see what he’s doing. You see his smile before he’s leaning in and licking up the length of your pussy, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

Surprised moans slip from you, arms almost giving out completely, head rolling back. His arms wrap around your legs to hold you steady, face pushing closer into you, tongue flicking at your clit before pressing into your pussy hole.

He’s relishing in your sounds, in how wet you are, how you taste and smell, almost forgetting why he did this in the first place. Pulling away from you with a lewd smack of his lips, smiling big at the whine you let out from the loss of him.

Huffing slightly as he says, “Asked a question, not licking your pussy again until you answer it.”

“I don’t know,” your head lolls forward, eyes wet.

Head moving to the side to nip lightly at your thigh, “Shall we find out then?”

You jolt at the sensation, face twisting in confusion at him.

“You don’t gotta do anything, sweetie, just stay like this,” his hands push back on your thighs though, opening you up to him even more. “Been doing so good for me, sound so pretty,” he coos at you.

Brows furrowing at his words, heart skipping beats at his sudden praise, feeling fuzzy all over.

He hums in thought, “So fucking wet for me, dripping everywhere, creamy fucking pussy.”

You twitch at the switch, wanting to crawl away from him.

“I think I’ve just realised something,” he glances up at you, “Got such nice reactions to both things I said, do you know how much wetter you got, cunt twitching and drooling for me.”

You try pulling from him, but his hold is firm, “Gojo!” You warn.

He might be enjoying this too much but learning about what gets you going is way too enticing, especially when he doesn’t have to do much to have you looking so pathetic. “Trying to run away from me,” he tsks, “But you’re fucking dripping, so reactive, so sweet.” His eyes are glazing over, working himself up.

“‘Toru!” You call for him again, you feel like you’re on fire, beyond embarrassed.

He groans at the nickname, not hearing it from you in so long, you used to always call him that. He liked it a little too much, cock leaking for you. He feels as wrecked as he looks when he looks up at you, “I think you like both,” is his conclusion.

Reaching up, he grabs at your hand and pulls it down to your cunt, his fingers guiding your own through your slick. You gasp at it, not expecting for yourself to be so soaked. Biting at your lower lip when he moves your fingers over your clit, teasing you.

Dazed when he asks, “Ever been this wet, pretty?”

You shake your head, “No… I didn’t know I…”

Fingers moving yours to your entrance, “Poor thing, didn’t know how slutty her pussy was.” Feeling the way your cunt clenches at his words, his face bright with it, “Fucking great though, in love with it,” and again, your brows raising in realisation, “Yeah… you know now, don’t you?”

“You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you pout, head dizzy.

“No, I’m making you feel so fucking horny, not my fault that you like being embarrassed and praised at the same time,” he pulls your fingers away from your core, moving them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

You remove your fingers from him, coming to rest back in the bed, feeling breathless as you look down at him. “What do you want from me?”

“Want you to admit it, want you tell me how much you like when I talk to you,” his hand tickles up the skin of your inner thigh.

“…Like it,” you mumble out.

Humming in thought, “Hmm, not good enough, don’t think I believe you.”

Repeating, louder, “I like it.”

Tilting his head at you, “You like what?”

“I like when you talk to me,” you say with more force, brows furrowed.

He pretends to be unsure of your answer, “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” You try again, but as his expression remains unchanging, you add, “I like when you talk to me, I like how hot and fuzzy your words make me feel, I like just the sound of your voice, makes me want to squirm. Love it even! Is that what you wanted to hear?” You huff.

“Holy fuck, yes,” if he weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them again.

You let out a squeal at the way his mouth is already back on you, tongue pushing into your hole insistently. Fervent in his actions, clearly worked up by your words. If he were on the bed, he’d be shamelessly grinding his hips down into it, cock so fucking hard it’s aching. Pulsing so pitifully for you and if he weren’t so completely distracted by how you taste he’d throw caution to the wind and fuck into you right now.

“Gojo! Oh–” His name comes out all broken, ruined and shaky from how he laps at your cunt, drinking down all your slick.

Your elbows officially give out and you’re flopping back onto the mattress, fingers digging into the bed. Struggling to hold in all the little noises he’s pulling from you, hips trying to desperately rut into his pretty face with no luck, locked in place by his strong hold.

Gasping out at him, “M–more. Gojo – hah – more, please.”

Grunting against you, vibrations running up your spine, wanting desperately to kick your legs against the stimulation but unable to. He’s worked you up so much, so fucking desperate for release that his touch is making you crazy.

A finger presses at your hole, slipping inside easily, both his finger and tongue fucking into you. Another finger added, opening you up, scissoring them, tongue sneaking deeper inside your cunt.

He feels drunk, head heavy and brain foggy, tongue fucking you deeply. Delighting in the sounds of your sloppy pussy trying to suck him in deeper, he’s losing his mind. Tongue leaving you only for him to spit onto your cunt, thumb rubbing it into your clit, third finger added to the first two. Determined to have you ready for his cock.

“Need you to cum,” he sounds wrecked even to himself, “Before I do in my own pants – ffffuck –” Can’t help the way he curses at how you tighten around him at his words, “Must’ve been telling the truth about liking my voice, huh?” He teases, laughing breathlessly at how you react to him again.

Pressing out a simple, “S–so mean,” in response.

“You fucking like it,” eyes watching how your back arches off the mattress, “Love it even,” he reminds.

A series of moans leave you unabashedly at how he crooks his fingers just right, consistently hitting the one spot, thighs twitching at it. Stomach pulling tight and toes curling, head moving from side to side, so fucking close now.

“That’s it, sweetie,” he encourages, “Doing so good, just let go for me.”

You’re cumming suddenly, the abruptness of it shocking, like your body skipped the rest of the build up at Gojo’s words. If it didn’t feel good how he was fucking you through it, how his thumb kept rubbing at your clit, you’d feel beyond embarrassed at how you came just because he asked you to.

It’s not lost on him how quick you were to finish after he spoke, his ego big before and now fucking massive. Absolutely thrilled by how you continue to prove your responsiveness to him, if he were ever worried about you not being attracted to him, he can’t possibly remember why. Not when you’re squirming under him, tears threatening to slip from your waterline.

“Such a good direction follower,” he mocks, repeating his earlier sentiments.

His fingers keep stroking at you until your body goes limp, only jerking every now and again with your come down. Pulling them from you and parting them, looking at the way your cum connects his fingers together with white strings.

“Look at that,” his voice dripping with glee, “I was right… got such a creamy pussy,” he hums, shoving his fingers into his mouth.

He wipes his spit covered fingers on your thighs before standing, tugging off his pants and boxers before crawling up the mattress, leaning over you. Fingers skimming at your sides, pulling your shirt along with it, “Can I take this off, pretty?”

Eyes bleary when they meet his, giving a small nod, “Mhm.”

“You okay to keep going?” He checks, leaning in closer to you.

His concern makes you unreasonably happy, feeling genuinely cared for, “Yeah.”

“You sure–”

Cutting him off, “–Yes.”

Shock present on his face before smiling endearingly at you, completely smitten with you and has been for a long time now. It all feels a little surreal to him, being able to hold you, be intimate with you. Leaning in more, pressing soft kisses all over your face.

Showering you in affection as his hands continue to pull your shirt up. Only parting to pull it from you fully, thrown to some corner of your room, joining the rest of your clothes. Shuffling back so he can look at all of you, hands delicately tracing over you, like he’s memorising how you feel under his palms.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, hands smoothing over you. He drops onto you, face pressing between your tits, breathing in your scent.

Confused as your voice calls for him gently, “‘Toru?”

“Fuck,” he nips at your skin first and then moves to get back on his knees, “Alright, spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.”

Feeling placid from the intensity of your orgasm, you immediately listen to him and open your legs, moving them to the outside of his. Gojo feels like his heart grows in size at how quick you are to listen to him, so docile you don’t even talk back to him.

Your head cocks to the side at him, confused by his stare, “What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head at you, “You’re just really cute.”

He grabs your face, sandwiching your cheeks between his fingers, his lips leaving behind a big and sloppy kiss on yours before focusing back on your cunt. Grasping his cock and groaning at the pressure, squeezing himself to alleviate some of the need crawling desperately up his spine.

You can’t help but stare, he wasn’t full of it, he really is that big. Long and thick and looking so painfully hard, dripping precum so messily down the length of himself, dribbling down onto the bed sheets.

“It’s rude to stare,” he hisses, hand now stroking himself, clearly not even a little bit put off by your shameless staring. If anything, completely aroused by it.

Looking up into his eyes as you apologise, “‘M sorry.”

“Hah,” he huffs in amusement, “So polite all of a sudden, orgasm that good, pretty?”

“Yeah,” you nod, staring at him straight on, aiming to work him up more.

It works, “Fuck– alright,” his hips stutter into his hand and he stops fisting his cock, “‘Bout to give you an even better one,” guiding his dick to your core.

Swiping the head of himself through your folds, letting it collect the slick leaking from you. Teasing you like this for a bit, moving himself up and down before dipping into your hole, only to pull away again.

You whine at him over it, “Please.”

Smile large as he coos, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll take care of you.”

Keeping his word, he slowly presses the tip of his dick into you, hissing at the stretch, worried he didn’t give you enough prep. You bite your lip as you begin to take him in, fisting the sheets below, looking up at Gojo. His brows are upturned, and his jaw clenched, focusing so hard on being slow and careful. He pauses when you clench and flinch around him.

“I can take it,” gaze determined as you try to assure him, “You can keep going.”

“Oh, sweetie,” his hand grips at your inner thigh, squishing it under his hold, “I appreciate that,” he smiles, “I do… but you’re gonna want to pace yourself.”

You pout up at him, sulking, wanting to be full and not appreciating his probably – definitely – sound advice.

“Hah, don’t pout,” his thumb moves to your clit, “You’ll take it, know you will,” rubbing circles into it, “Cause I’m gonna make sure of it, but you gotta pace yourself.”

Under his touch, you relax again, and he pushes his hips forward, starting the slow process of opening you up on his cock. His control astounding himself right now, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you completely, feeling your pussy swallow him whole.

He’s not quite half-way yet and already pressing up against the most delicious spots inside you, with that and his consistent pressure on your clit, you’re suddenly so fucking close to cumming like this.

Reaching out to him, your hand lightly slaps at him, trying to warn, “I’m gonna – hah –”

Gojo realises when you clench down on him what you’re trying to say, the small noises you make getting louder, he almost blows his load the second he realises. Ripping himself from you suddenly, you cry out at the loss, cumming around nothing, gasping into your hand.

“Why? Why?” you’re almost incoherent as you ask him.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, trying to make up for the loss of his cock, “Would’ve cum if I hadn’t pulled out, wanna at least fuck you before I do.”

You glare at him, trying to convey how slighted you feel but he only seems to find it endearing, smiling at you over it. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

Wasting no time, he fucks back into you, to where he was before he pulled out. Giving shallow thrusts as he keeps pressing forwards, breath stuttering at the small way he’s getting the friction he’s desperate for.

“Such a greedy cunt,” he murmurs, dick slipping deeper, “So quick to cum for me, sucking me in.”

“Gojo–” you whine at him, his words back to embarrassing you.

His voice cracks at how you refer to him, “–No, no, nono, what happened to ‘Toru?” Fucking deeper, so close to being balls deep.

“‘Toru, you’re–” cutting yourself off with a moan, he thrust the rest of the way in when you called to him, “–so deep.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” he chuckles breathlessly, moving to press his body up against yours, craving the contact.

He’s pressed up against you completely, warm and strong, your legs loop around his waist and he slips in deeper. He groans at it, holding himself back, wanting you to adjust to all of him first. He nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites against the sensitive skin there, relishing in the way your pussy jumps around him over such a small act.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me or something,” he jokes, referencing how sensitive you are to him.

Without thinking, you admit, “I have – mmph – I’ve liked you mm–multiple times ah– at different points in – hah – our lives.”

His head snaps back as he twitches inside you, “Seriously?” When you nod, he grinds down into you, “Fuck– had me so stressed, liked you all this time and you’re telling me I could’ve had this pretty, little pussy so much sooner?”

You’re feeling a bit dazed, two orgasms deep and stretched so obscenely around him, cunt making wet noises just from the small way he’s grinding into you.

“When,” his words are hurried, when you look at him like he’s just said something in a different language, he asks again, “When have you liked me?”

“I don’t remember that, too many – hnn – different times,” you shake your head, you don’t even know if you could recount all the times you had feelings for him resurface even if you weren’t split open on his big dick.

He moans, starting to move his hips in shallow thrusts, “Enough that you – mmph – can’t remember specifics,” he groans, “Feels like a sick joke, been pining after you our – hah – whole lives.”

His mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply, sucking your tongue into his mouth, licking at you. The kiss so dizzying, you’re barely able to catch up to him before he’s talking again, “The most recent time– can you – hah – remember the most recent time you liked me?”

He’s desperate to know, wanting to know how small or big of a window he had missed. Failing to realise it doesn’t really matter all that much right now.

“Not – hah – not that long ago,” you’re almost panting now, wanting for him to move with more urgency but he’s still only thrusting into you shallowly.

“When, sweetie, tell me when, please,” his forehead pressed to yours, eyes imploring.

Struggling slightly as you press out, “B– before I started – hah – going on all those dates,” you’re trying really hard to think, “Beginning of the – hng – year?”

Smiling at you, big, happy, “Not that long ago, just gonna make you like me again.”

He’s a little annoyed that you went on so many dates right after having liked him, not completely lost on him that the two are probably connected and feeling frustrated that he hadn’t just told you about his feelings ages ago.

“Gonna charm the fuck outta you, take you to nice places, shower you in compliments, tell you how cute you are,” he’s rambling now, about your theoretical future dates, “Remind you every day how much I like you, how perfect you are, gonna make you like me again.”

“I’d like it if you moved, ‘Toru, please,” you beg, tears in the corners of your eyes from being teased.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he quips, kissing your cheek before complying.

Finally starting a pace that has you going crazy but in a different way, fast and deep, weighted thrusts that make you struggle to maintain focus. Pulling out almost completely before fucking back into you, hammering his hips into yours, lewd squelching filling the room at it.

Your whimpered moans have Gojo’s skin pricking, so turned on he feels insane, like you might kill him, “Got such a great pussy, fucking soaking wet, taking me so well, could die like this and not complain, fuck–”

Clawing at him now, at his forearms, his biceps, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach, desperately scrabbling for purchase. “Gojo–”

“–No, I don’t know who that is,” he ignores your cry of his name.

Trying again, “‘Toru, want– I want–”

You’re not even entirely sure what you want or are asking for, but Gojo seems to know immediately. His hips moving faster, pelvis slapping into your clit every time he meets yours, cock hitting against your cervix in a way that hurts so fucking good.

Eyes rolling back in your skull with the pleasure, fat tears running down your face at it. Sex has never felt like this, is it meant to feel like this? Have you been doing it wrong? Or maybe he’s just insanely good at it, or maybe you just like him more than you were aware of.

“Feels– feels good, I–”

“Again? Fucking perfect, so perfect for me,” he sounds so excited, “Want it, want you to cum on me, cum all over my cock, fucking coat me in it.” It’s almost like he’s begging you for it.

Luckily for him, you really do like his voice, love how he talks to you and at his borderline begging, you’re cumming all over him. Cunt clenching down on him, sobbing out pitiful moans of his name as you cum. It’s coating him, just like how he asked for, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.

“Fuuck, that’s it, such a good girl,” your cunt jumps around his cock, and he laughs, “Oh? You liked that, should’ve called you a good girl sooner.”

Too dazed to fight him on his teasing, corners of your vision blurry and ears ringing, twitching pathetically under him. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, fucking into you harsher, more shallow, getting close to finishing himself.

Orgasm on the tip of his tongue, the thing that sends him over the edge is how you look up at him. Eyes fucked out and cheeks tear stained, whining out a small, “‘Toru, want it, please.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” his words are choked out, almost whining himself, balls heavy with how badly he wants to cum.

Thrusts faltering as he fucks into you the last few times, suddenly slamming his pelvis to yours, releasing all his cum inside you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white. Hips grinding into you as he finishes.

Fucked out whimpers of your name leaving him as he presses his head into the side of your neck. Biting down onto you, shocking you slightly, the pain unexpected, he lathes over it with his tongue.

He slumps down onto you, his weight too much, your hands push at him, “Too heavy.”

He hums out at you noncommittally but gets up, carefully slipping himself from you, not shy in how he stares at your pussy. At the way his cum gushes from it, the urge to fuck it all back inside you strong. He withholds though, seeing you’re clearly beyond fucked out. Next time, he promises himself.

Gone from you but not for too long, only leaving long enough to clean himself up and bring stuff back to clean you up. Wiping softly at your legs, cleaning you of his spend, “You look cute dripping with my cum,” he singsongs.

“Lewd,” you accuse, too tired to think of something more to say.

“Yeah…” he gets into bed by you, “But I’m certain you like that.”

You snuggle into his side, letting him cuddle you, “Not sleeping with you again until at least the third date.”

“I bet…” he looks down at you, lips hovering over yours, “…You’ll sleep with me after each of them.”

You go to scoff at him and deny it, but he kisses you, deep and imploring. Effectively shutting you up and as you let him kiss you how he likes, you realise, he might be right.

𝐀/𝐍: this got away from me, like it so often does, it was only meant to be a couple k of only smut but i am not normal so it turned into this! i hope you enjoyed <3 thank you for reading!

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio Nobody Knows AU DP x DC Part 4

Part 3

(Tim POV! This is a long one 😅)

 Tim almost has it. He's so close to cracking this file he can fucking taste it. He's been fighting this thing for two weeks. It's the most incomprehensible and infuriating code he's ever faced off against, which is fitting considering who gave it to them.

The engineer. THEIR engineer. The engineer they didn't ask for and Tim still isn't sure how they got, and the single biggest mystery in Tim's fucking life right now.

See, a significant amount of Bat gadgets at this point are Tim's brainchildren. He imagines them, he designs them, he workshops and tests them.

A few months ago, he'd had a pouch on his utility belt full of experimental pellets meant for slowing down fleeing vehicles. They were designed to break when run over and the compound inside would expand into durable, sticky foam that would ensnare tires.

He'd tested them in the cave.

He had not been prepared to take one hit to that side and have to frantically divest himself of that pouch before he became Gotham's latest foam based cryptid. 

His family had laughed themselves silly at him even as he broke off in pursuit of the drug runners he'd been fighting.

When Tim had doubled back expecting a mess to clean up and pellets to rework? It had been gone. All of it. The foam, the pellets, the pouch of his utility belt.

A serious problem, because who knows who got their hands on that?

Then it had shown back up.

That is to say, Gordon had called them because he found a pouch with a note labeled ‘for Red Robin’ sitting on the stand of the Bat Signal and didn't dare touch it.

After making sure it wasn't a bomb or some kind of biological weapon, Tim had opened the pouch - his own belt pouch - and found pellets. New pellets. Different pellets.

The note just read, “As funny as that was to watch, I fixed them for you. No more premature sploogage on the job. :3 P.S. here's a recipe for solution to dissolve future intentional discharges.”

They'd been right, too. The new pellets were tested (in case THEY were a bomb or biological weapon) and they'd been just strong enough to safely transport but still break when under the pressure of tires. Even the foam was more effective, and the spray Tim synthesized from that stupid recipe had worked like a dream.

What. The fuck.

This person not only improved his design and came up with a dissolution agent from scratch in days, they'd been watching without him knowing and made off with the original pellets without anyone noticing.

This was either a rogue in the making or someone they wanted on their side, and either way they needed to be found.

So Tim had done the obvious.

He'd put together a lockbox of money for the product they'd been given, loaded it with no less than ten (10) bat trackers and a note thanking their mysterious benefactor and requesting to meet up. He'd exploded a foam pellet on a rooftop and left the box on it in the hopes they'd notice and find it, then hung around far enough to not be seen and close enough to beat feet as soon as the trackers started moving. 

They did not start moving. They all went offline simultaneously. 

Tim has never moved so fast in his life, and yet by the time he got to the rooftop there was a pile of foam and nothing else. Not even a trace of whoever took the lockbox.

The next day, there was a ping of one (1) tracker that led them to a note thanking him for the money, refusing to meet, and asking if they'd considered certain improvements to their grapples with schematics for said designs.

Thus started the most bizarre and infuriating chase through notes, money, helpful designs and disappearing trackers Tim has ever been a part of.

Last time, the engineer had left them a USB stick and a note claiming that since they really wanted to know about him so bad, they could have the information on the USB if they could crack the encryption on the zip file inside.

Obviously they screened heavily for viruses or backdoors, but long story short Tim has been trying to crack the fucking thing for two weeks and refuses to let Oracle help. It's personal. It's a matter of pride. 

He could swear the code itself has actively been sabotaging his attempts to hack it, which is, you know. Impossible. 

Ping!

Tim blinks, looking over at the map on another monitor of the Bat computer. 

“Motherfucker-”

He taps into Duke’s comms. This is the first time this has ever happened during the day shift, he wasn't expecting it.

“Signal! I need you on the roof of the warehouse on the corner of Fifth and Everest - a tracker just came online.”

Another thing that infuriates Tim. You can't just turn Bat trackers on and off. They're activated, and then they either stay active or they're destroyed. They can't be turned off and then reactivated.

And fucking yet.

Duke groans, but his own tracker starts making its way in that direction.

“Dude. He's gonna be long gone by the time I get there. He always is.”

“He can't run from me forever,” Tim insists. “I'm almost in this damn file, and I am going to find him and dangle him off a roof from his ankles for giving us this runaround, so help me God.”

“Uh huh,” Duke deadpans. “Sure you are. I'm almost there, and- oh look! A note. What a surprise!”

Tim hears Duke touch down on the rooftop, eyes on the code on his screen while his brother clears his throat and reads aloud.

“Ahem- ‘Good morning, sunshine!’ - guess that's me - ‘I hear some bats and birds have been murdering tires at an alarming rate with the way they drive their bikes-’”

Tim freezes. He's not listening anymore.

“Signal.”

“‘- and that just can't be good for business. Nobody wants a bald tire ruining a chase. So boy do I have the thing for you-”

“Signal!”

“What?”

“I got it.”

“Huh? Got what?”

“I cracked his file. I got it.”

Tim is staring, wide eyed and full of a mixture of elation and trepidation at the contents of the zip file. It's a single text file titled, ‘Wow! You did it!’

“Oh, shit? Well? What's in it?”

Tim swallows, mouse hovering over the file. He takes a deep breath, then double clicks.

The file opens.

Tim blinks.

“Red Robin? What's in it?”

Tim scrolls slowly down, disbelief and horror dawning across his face. “Oh my God.”

“What? Come on, man, talk to me.”

Tim scrolls further.

“Oh. My God.”

“Red? Red Robin, you're scaring me, man.”

Tim puts his face in his hands. Voice muffled, he responds.

“Duke.”

“...Red? You okay?”

“No.”

“No?”

“It's the entire Bee Movie script.”

Silence reigns for a solid five seconds before Duke breaks and descends into raucous, hysterical laughter.

Even muffled by his own hands, Tim's scream of rage scares the bats in the cave into a tizzy.

Part 5

Masterpost

[inkskinned]

the problem is that being single is seen as the consolidation prize, and not the natural neutral state of being-a-person. at the end of the movie or the book or the poetry, there is a person waiting for you at the altar, and they love you. if the play is a comedy, everyone gets married. the metaphor is about how you are not-whole. the metaphor is about how everyone is going to be happily-ever-after. the metaphor is that romantic love is the most important resource on the planet, not just all-love. all-love is not a thing, that is a disappointment. the treasure is not the friends we made along the way. the treasure is the girl you landed.

the metaphor is that you cannot be alone, that means you are broken. are you getting over someone? that is acceptable, you can be getting over someone, but not for long. you must be single because you would rather not be single. you must be single and looking to not-be-single. you must want to date, eventually.

friendship and community are never seen as being equal-to or even-better than romantic connection. that person is your one! you need to find them. you need to hunt through the sand particles until you can shift out some kind of gem. this is regardless to your own experience of the beach and the sun. you need to be somewhere with someone.

if you are taking this time alone to heal, that is so sad. everyone gives you this little pitying look. the understanding is that you are not actually happier than you were before you were single. it is seen as a sort of pity - oh, you are choosing yourself, making yourself the priority? - that isn't quite right. you must mean that you are making yourself ready for the right person. you are just laying the bed better this time. open up your heart. you'll find them, we promise!

what do you mean you're really-truly genuinely-very happy? you are probably misremembering what it was like to be in a relationship. and besides, once you meet your person, that time will look grey and bland and wasted. your person is the only way for you to see in color. so what if you have taken this time - for the first time in your entire life - to actually-for-real do the fucking work. you can be proud of yourself, sure. but the way we need to know that you got better is that you get a partner. you're healed enough for the next bad part!

people don't choose to be single, they just say they're choosing to be single - they actually mean "nobody wants to date me." it doesn't matter how many people you have gently rejected or how many times you've talked it over carefully in therapy. what matters is that you are single, and by all accounts - that means you are something worth our pity. your successes and life all seem pale in the sunlight. sure, you have done amazing things and finally found your way in life. what matters is that there wasn't a person in the room with you while you did it.

you want to tell them - that's the whole thing. i didn't know how to be alone in the room. i didn't know how to handle the silence. every moment was so sharp, and i kept choosing the wrong way to close the door. i have spent my entire life in the empty well, living in the ricochet of someone else's cruelty. for once i have built myself a ladder. for once everything i taste is all mine, every bite of sunshine and laughter. i have learned how to sleep out in the open with my memories. recently, they have started to purr.

your father rolls his eyes. listen. this isn't about you. i just want a grandchild in my future.

[flwrstqr]

CALL ME YOURS !! (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS: ever since you broke up with your ex, choi jiho, who cheated on you with another girl, you have always wanted to get revenge. when you meet jiho again at school, to prove you were over him and had met a better man, you told him you were meeting someone. you lied and told him you were meeting a random guy who you pointed at on your school's bulletin board for being the top student in the whole school. coincidentally, that guy was lee heeseung, known for his quiet and smart personality. then jiho demands to meet him in real life, hand-in-hand with you, which now you have a huge problem. first, you have to find heeseung, and next, you have to date him.

pairing: topstudent!heeseung x popularstudentfem!reader

genre: fake dating, s2l, romance, high school au, sunshine x cold

warning(s): reader + heeseung being in denial, your ex cheated, kissing, inspired by a k-drama (i forgot which one), two of them being awfully awkward at first, swearing, grammar errors, party, lots of love confusions, does say that winter is dating beomgyu, punching, fighting

word count: 7k

AN: guys im back with a long au, i never really write long aus, so this is slightly new to me. i did proofread it but not super thoroughly so if i made any mistakes, my bad for that .

taglist: @yenqa @mylstserenade @jlheon @naespas @jooniesbears-blog @erehkinnie30 @wonifullove @miumiuisme @shawnyle @dimplewonie @beomluvrr @jiaant11 @teddywonss

ALL YOU WANTED WAS REVENGE. Sweet revenge against your idiotic ex, Choi Jiho.You remember the moment you walked into the girls locker room to go deliver something to your PE coach, only to find the room “empty”. It hit you like a ton of bricks when you stumbled upon Jiho, locking lips with your “supposed” best friend, Kim Haeun, in the girl’s locker room Lip on lip, eyes closed, moving in sync. Heart shattered, tears streaming, you bolted, tripping over a basket of equipment and scraping your knees quickly catching attention of Jiho. His voice trailed after you, calling your name as you fled into the distance.

Losing both your best friend and your boyfriend cut deep. Being single was one thing, but being unable to find anyone who measured up to Jiho was another.

"YN, your standards for men are too high!" Karina remarked from the bleachers during PE.

You shrugged. "They've always been high." For the past 4 months, no one was your type compared to Jiho, the perfect boyfriend in your eyes: tall, handsome, a football player, rich, and occasionally nice.

"It's because of that disgusting asshole," Ningning scoffed.

"He isn't disgusting!" you retorted.

"YN, you need to get over him. This is just becoming toxic, plus you dumped him in front of the whole school ," Giselle chimed in. She was right. You vividly recalled the moment, twenty minutes before the bell, eyes swollen from crying all night but disguised behind makeup, replaying yesterday's scene you witnessed in your mind.

"YN!" Jiho's voice snapped you back to reality, his figure rushing towards you.

"Can we talk?" he asked, breathless.

"Talk about how you fucking cheated on me? Fine, I'll hear you out," you yelled, drawing everyone's attention.

"Can you keep it down, YN?" Jiho snapped.

"Sure I’ll quiet it down when I want to. Go to your girlfriend, Haeun. Why does she have to be my best friend, out of all people?" you glared.

"YN, let's talk inside," Jiho groaned, irritated.

"No, we're done. I never wanted you anyway, you asshole. Just fuck off," you spat, the words stinging even as they left your mouth The next thing you knew the scene spreaded like wildfire at school.

"Are you okay?" Minjeong asked as you sobbed at the lunch table.

"Listen, YN, Jiho wasn't worth it. You saw what you saw," Karina tried to console.

"I don't know... it's just over now," you murmured, head in your hands.

"Maybe it's a sign to find someone better," Ningning suggested.

"I don't know..." you whispered, feeling lost, unable to move on.

“I’m for sure there’s someone way better than him.” Giselle added (biggest lie you ever heard).

MONTHS PASSED AND YOU FOUND YOURSELF IN THE LIBRARY, lending a hand to the librarian in organizing books before school started. As you went about your duties, dropping off books and preparing to fetch more, the one and only, Jiho, stood by the school bulletin board waiting for you. It had been months since the breakup, and yet, the wound was still fresh, a constant reminder of the pain (really yn..)

"I wanted to say a word," Jiho awkwardly mumbled, eyeing you for a reaction, his hands in his pockets.

You reluctantly agreed, "Fine, make it quick. I'm busy."

"I broke up with Haeun," he stated, the words hanging in the air.

"What?" Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"I ended things with Kim Haeun," he said more firmly. His words sank in, but confusion lingered. But why was he telling you this now? Then it hit you—he wanted you back. Yet, on a day when you missed him, you suddenly felt nothing. He had left you for another girl (well, technically, you dumped him), betrayed you, and now he came back because you were his second choice?

"Why are you telling me this?" You managed to maintain calm.

"I still like you, YN LN," he confessed, causing your eyes to widen. You bit your lip, before you could accept his confession like your 5 minute ago self would. Your heart didn’t thump like it did when you were around him. Your hands weren’t sweaty like they were when he looked at you before. Your mind wasn’t racing like it was when Jiho confessed to you for the first time, months ago. It was nothing like any of that–you just felt empty and cold.

"I'm seeing someone," you blurted out, realizing the lie you had just said. Crossing your fingers, you hoped he wouldn't ask about the identity of your "so-said boyfriend"

"Who?" he inquired, raising his eyebrow. Desperately searching for an excuse, your eyes landed on the bulletin board, displaying a list of top students and their ID photos.

Rushing over, you pointed at the first photo and name you saw, "That guy," you said, reading his name, "...Lee Heeseung! I'm dating him."

"Oh, really?" Jiho cast a skeptical glance between you and the photo, a smirk playing on his lips. "Then," he leaned in closer, "how about you introduce me to him, hand-in-hand, next week? I want to see if he's worthy of you." Panic rushed in you, and your throat went dry. You forced a smile and nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Sure," you replied.

"Great, see you next week," Jiho said, turning and walking away. You were officially doomed. Now, you have to find this Lee Heeseung and give him a deal.

YOU WANDERED DURING LUNCH, TRYING TO FIND HEESEUNG. You only heard about him because he got a perfect score on the hardest SAT exams, but you didn't really pay attention.

"Heeseung? Sorry, I don’t know who he is," a girl replied when you asked her about Heeseung.

"It's okay," you smiled politely and left, feeling frustrated.

"I'll never find him," you groaned to Karina, who was with you while you asked everyone about Heeseung.

"Why did you lie to Jiho then? I thought you weren’t over him. Last night, you were giggling at how cute Jiho is and how much you want him back," Karina asked, taking a bite of her apple.

"I don’t know. He was just using me. I knew it because he and Haeun broke up," you explained, letting out a soft sigh. "He saw me as a second option, and I got into this mess because I lied to him about having a boyfriend who's probably some ugly nerd."

"I told you he was using you the entire time! But you didn’t trust me!" Karina scolded you.

"Sorry, I was just blind back then," you mumbled.

Before your last attempt, you walked up to a boy and asked the same question you’d been asking everyone.

"Do you know Lee Heeseung by any chance?" you asked. The boy's eyes widened, and a big grin spread across his face.

"Yes, I do! For what reason?" the boy quickly replied. For the first time, someone knew who he was.

"Do you know where he is then?" you inquired, hoping he could help.

"I do. I’m close friends with him. Come, I’ll show you where he is," the boy replied as you followed him, waving to Karina goodbye.

As the two of you awkwardly made up the long staircase, you arrived at the rooftop of the school. When the boy opened the door, a lonely figure sat by the table, reading a book.

"Heeseung!" the boy called out, causing the figure, supposedly Heeseung, to turn around.

"What, Jungwon?" Heeseung raised his eyebrow, quickly glancing at you and then back at Jungwon.

"YN was looking for you," Jungwon quickly said, nudging you to speak. Heeseung obviously knew who you were, known for dating Jiho and your soft-delicate visuals.

You walked towards him awkwardly, “Uhm…can we talk privately?” Slightly glancing at Jungwon, signaling him to leave quietly. As Jungwon left quietly, you cleared your throat.

“So…” you started off a bit nervous, “I need some help?”

"What help?" Heeseung answered a bit coldly, “If it’s anything studying related, I’m not interested-”

"I need help dating," you blurted, realizing what you had just said.

"What?" Heeseung gave you a puzzled look, "Dating what?"

"I lied to Jiho. Okay, I don’t have interest in you or even Jiho. I lied to him saying that I’m meeting you," you spilled the news. Heeseung had an empty look on his face as you tried to read his expression.

“Why me?” Heeseung arched his eyebrow.

“You were the first name I saw,” you explained, “So can you fake date me? I need it, please,” you pleaded, hoping he would accept your request.

"No, I’m not interested," he turned around, quickly getting his book to start reading again. Your jaw dropped, no one had ever rejected you like that.

"What?" you spat, feeling terrible that you got rejected for the first time.

"I’m not interested in you or in dating. So, I strongly believe that I shouldn’t do it," he said, quickly focusing his attention on his book.

“I’ll do anything!” you begged, feeling desperate.

"Anything?" Heeseung quickly averted his attention to you, dropping his book slightly to make eye contact with you.

"Yes, anything. I’ll do anything," you replied, hoping he would accept it.

"Then introduce me to her," Heeseung answered. You looked confused.

"Who's her?" you raised your eyebrow.

Heeseung’s cheek slightly blushed, it was the first time you saw him so embarrassed. “Karina,” he mumbled under his breath. Suddenly it clicked—he was interested in Karina, your best friend.

You gave an eager look, “Deal! I’ll introduce you to her after all of the fake dating.” You pulled out your hand.

"Deal," Heeseung replied, shaking your hand.

A  FEW DAYS LATER, YOU FIND YOURSELF in the convenience store, an unexpected place for someone like you—a popular girl to be at. Your outfit was simpler than usual, baggy gray sweats and a white tank top, with your hair thrown up in a messy high ponytail and an oversized jacket completing the look.

You scan the snack aisle, contemplating your choices, when the doorbell chimes, signaling a customer had entered. Your heart thumps as you recognize the last person you expected to encounter—Heeseung. He's dressed in simple gray sweatpants and a black hoodie, his messy hair somehow adding to his charm.

Your eyes lock momentarily before you both awkwardly shuffle towards each other. "What brings you here?" you ask, surprised to find him in a convenience store at 2 am.

"Why are you up so late?" he counters, swiftly turning the interrogation on you.

"I couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?" you reply.

"Studying," he responds matter-of-factly, grabbing an energy drink before swiftly checking out and leaving. You hurry after him, catching up as he strides down the street.

"Studying late? That's a first," you mutter to yourself, gazing up at the night sky.

"I don’t want to flunk my classes, unlike you," he retorts, avoiding your gaze.

"I'm not that hopeless," you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, you are," he quips, taking a sip of his drink.

"Hey!" you playfully threaten, pulling back your arm as if to hit him. But then something unexpected happens—you catch sight of Heeseung's smile, genuine and endearing. You quickly shake off any wayward thoughts; after all, you're just his so-called “girlfriend”.

"Where do you live?" you inquire, trying to change the subject.

"Stalker much?" Heeseung teases.

"Shut up," you retort, rolling your eyes.

"I live in the house near the college," he answers, disposing of his empty can.

"Do you walk to school?" you ask, trying to prolong the conversation.

"Yeah," he replies.

"Then... do you want to walk together tomorrow?" you suggest, stopping in the quiet and empty streets.

"Walk together?" he repeats, surprised.

You nod and quickly add, "Yeah, you know, for you know..."

Heeseung considers for a moment before agreeing, "Sure."

"Great! I'll come by your place at 7 am since school starts at 7:30!" you smile, remembering to ask for his number. He inserts it into your phone, adding, "Don't blow up my phone."

"I'm not that obsessed with you," you retort.

"I think you are," he jokes.

"In your dreams," you shoot back.

YOU FOUND YOURSELF STANDING OUTSIDE Heeseung's door, feeling an awkward knot tighten in your stomach as you waited, fingers fidgeting nervously. After what seemed like hours, the door swung open to reveal a woman, likely Heeseung's mother.

"Hi, who are you?" she inquired, her eyes curious but welcoming.

"I'm YN LN," you replied, managing a warm smile despite your nerves. "A friend of Heeseung's."

"Heeseung's friend?" Her expression softened into a delighted grin. "I didn't realize Heeseung had such a pretty friend. I'm Heeseung's mother. Just call me Mrs. Lee."

"Mom..." Heeseung's voice interrupted, his presence suddenly beside you as he quickly shuffled to put on his shoes.

"Heeseung, she seems like a sweet and pretty girl," Mrs. Lee remarked before Heeseung darted, closing the door behind him before his mother could say anything else.

"Your mother seems really nice," you commented, attempting to ease the tension.

"Mhm," Heeseung mumbled, his attention already diverted to his book that he quickly pulled out from his backpack. 

With a pointed look, you reached out your hand, silently urging him to remember.

Heeseung sighed, rolling his eyes in mild exasperation, but he relented, tucking the book away and clasping your hand in his. The touch sent a jolt through you, a feeling you couldn't quite grasp.

"So..." you began, eager to break the silence. "Where's your class?"

"Class 3-B," he replied shortly, his gaze fixed ahead as if unwilling to meet your eyes.

"Mine's right next door." you exclaimed, hoping to inject some enthusiasm into the conversation. "Perfect! Do you know what this means?"

"What?" Heeseung's response was clipped, his tone guarded.

"That I can come over to your class during lunch!" you declared with a wide grin, trying to lighten the mood.

"I eat on the rooftop, alone." he added, emphasizing the word alone.

"Ah, I forget you’re a loner," you teased gently.

"At least I'm productive with my free time," he retorted.

"Well, today we're together!" you suggested brightly and then with a smirk you whispered, "And I can introduce you to... Karina." The mention of your best friend's name made Heeseung blush slightly.

"Shut up," he groaned, moving to cover your mouth with his free hand just in case you would say anything else.

"Like I want to-" feeling a sudden hard squeeze in your hand "Ow..."

"Now shut up before I squeeze harder," Heeseung warned, though there was a hint of genuine threat in his tone.

"You're no fun," you muttered. Eventually, you arrived at the school, fingers still intertwined as you drew curious whispers from the hallway.

"YN and Heeseung, dating? No way..." you heard a girl whisper by the lockers, causing a flush of embarrassment to color your cheeks. When you reached Heeseung's classroom, you reluctantly released his hand, noticing the tension in his posture as he leaned against the doorframe.

"See you later?" you asked, "I'll be on the rooftop during break."

"Alright..." Heeseung's response was hesitant, but then came an unexpected word that caught you off guard. "...baby." The pet name hung in the air.

"R-right... anyway, bye..." you stammered, feeling a rush of different emotions. You'd been in relationships before, but you were never so flustered for such small things like that. Could it be... you weren't falling for him, right?

HEESEUNG SETTLED AT THE EMPTY TABLE on the rooftop, his gaze drifting across the school grounds. The rooftop held a special meaning for him, offering a quiet place to read, barely visited by others.

“Heeseung!” Your voice sliced through the silence, drawing his attention. He glanced up to see you approaching, two lunches in hand.

With a bright grin, you placed the meals in front of him. “I brought lunch!”

"Thanks," Heeseung replied , his tone cool as he examined the homemade kimbap. As you both sat down, awkwardness settled between you, by the avoidance of eye contact.

Summoning his courage, Heeseung brought a question that had lingered in his mind for months. "Why did you like Choi Jiho?"

Your eyes widened at the unexpected, catching you off guard. You paused, hesitating with how to respond.Memories of Jiho flooded your mind. You had forgotten about him for the past 4 days due to Heeseung being on your mind 24/7.

You cleared your throat, summoning a bitter lie to your lips. "I... uh, he was nice, I guess."

"Did Jiho even like you back?" Heeseung's question cut through the air. That’s when you realized something. You remembered the way Jiho would never defend you in any moment or barely spend time with you. And the time when he did? He would always be on his phone. You realized how stupid you were as you thought the moments where he just wanted attention from the public by kissing you or flirting with you meant that he loved you. 

"I... I don't know," you admitted. Deep down, you knew the painful reality—that Jiho had used you.

"Oh, okay..." Heeseung responded, sensing the weight of your words. "So, let's change the top—"

"I know he didn't like me," you interjected, your gaze drifting to the sky before meeting Heeseung's gaze. "I know he was the worst boyfriend I could ask for."

Confusion flickered across Heeseung's features at your sudden confession.

"I was blind. I regret it," you murmured, your gaze falling to your lap. "But it's in the past."

Heeseung regarded you with his usual stern and cold look. "Then why did you tell Jiho you were meeting someone else?"

"Because... I wanted to prove I was happier now," you muttered, grappling with your tumultuous emotions.

"Are you?" Heeseung's gaze bore into yours.

"I... I think I am," you replied

"You 'think'?" Heeseung pressed, his tone firm.

"I'm happier than before," you insisted, though the vagueness of your answer hung in the air.

"That's not specific," Heeseung challenged.

"I can't be specific," you confessed, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Because I don't know, at all."

"Are you sure?" Heeseung persisted.

"Heeseung, it's my feelings, yes I'm sure," you asserted.

"I'm just physically and mentally curious, so it allured me to—" Heeseung began, but you cut him off.

"Okay, I think that's enough. The bell's going to ring soon. Text me later!" With that, you rose abruptly, snatching your lunch bag and offering a quick wave before descending the stairs back to class.

HEESEUNG LAY ON  HIS BED,  staring up at the ceiling. He knew he should be studying, but your words about Jiho lingered in his mind. "I'm happier than before." Why was he even pondering such things? Lost in thought, he was jolted back to reality by a faint buzz from his phone. Retrieving it, he found a message from you.

YN LN: heeseung!! all my friends rejected me to go to the mall TT, so wanna go together?? ><

Heeseung paused, a moment of surprise flashing across his features. You were asking him to go to the mall with you? It felt almost like you were asking him out. He composed himself and replied:

Heeseung: Sure. Send location and time, I’ll be there.

Putting down his phone, he realized the weight of his agreement. He had just agreed to go on a date with you. And now, he needed to get ready. Hastily, he rummaged through his closet, seeking out a suitable outfit. Opting for his lone stylish varsity jacket paired with jeans, he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tidy it up.

Rushing to the mall, he found you leaning against a store wall, your attention fixed on your phone. As he approached, a cupid seemed to strike him with an arrow as his cheeks flushed. The simplicity of your outfit and the gentle cascade of your hair rendered you utterly captivating.

You looked up, catching sight of Heeseung's slightly stunned expression, and greeted him with a warm smile, gesturing for him to join you.

"Hi," Heeseung muttered, still awestruck by your beauty.

"Hi!" you returned the greeting with equal warmth. "I just need to buy some makeup for my friends, or maybe myself, and possibly shop around! Anything you need?"

"Not necessarily," Heeseung replied, scanning the mall.

"Okay then, follow me," you said, seizing his arm and leading him to the nearest makeup store. Arriving at the lip product section, you perused the selection of lipsticks, lip glosses, and lip tints. Grabbing a random lip tint, you turned to Heeseung.

"Can I try it on you? I need to see if it looks good on a person," you suggested.

"What? When did I sign up for this?" Heeseung sighed.

"Please," you pleaded, giving him your best pout. "I can erase it right after."

"Fine."

With careful precision, you applied the tint to his lips. The warmth of his breath brushed against your cheeks and neck, sending a flurry of sensations through you. Your heart raced as you admired his perfectly shaped lips, now tinted with color. After smoothing out any unevenness, you stepped back to admire the look.

"Hmm... I think this works," you concluded, grabbing the new tint to go check out and pay for it.

YOU SAVORED THE SWEET TASTE OF vanilla ice cream as you took a bite, sitting side by side with Heeseung on the bench outside the convenient store where you first met. He listened attentively as you shared stories about your friends and family.

"And then Giselle told me—" Your sentence was cut short as Heeseung's fingers delicately wiped a smudge of ice cream from the corner of your lips.

"Mhm?" He hummed softly, encouraging you to continue. Your heart fluttered at his touch, beating rapidly in your chest.

"...y-yeah," you stammered, trying to regain your composure, your gaze drifting to the hues of the sunset painting the sky in shades of blue and orange.

"Are you done with your story?" Heeseung inquired, to which you nodded hastily. You weren't finished, but another word might turn you into a flustered mess.

After a brief silence, you suggested, "How about we go for a walk by the Han River?" Heeseung agreed with a nod, and soon you found yourselves strolling side by side along the riverbank, the gentle sound of water trickling in the background adding to the peaceful atmosphere.

Unexpectedly, Heeseung asked, "Are you going to the dance?" It was a question he wouldn't normally ask.

"The dance?" you raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his inquiry.

"Yeah, the school dance?" Heeseung clarified, his expression tinged with skepticism.

"Oh, well, yeah," you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment as you remembered his feelings for Karina. He didn't like you, so why did you allow yourself to hope for something more?

"Is Karina going?" Heeseung continued, and you struggled to find your voice, your throat suddenly dry.

"O-oh, uhm, I think she's going..." you managed to say, the reality of your situation crashing down on you like a wave. Foolish fantasies had consumed you for the past five days, but now you bit your lip to stave off the embarrassment and tears threatening to surface.

"I think I'm tired. I'm gonna go home now. Bye, Heeseung," you forced a small smile before turning away, walking in the opposite direction. Heeseung watched you go, a confused expression clouding his features as you moved farther and farther away.

LEANING AGAINST THE WALL, you found yourself lost in thoughts of Heeseung, the person who was on your mind day in and day out. Why did it bother you so much if he had feelings for your best friend, Karina? Why did his presence hold such sway over you?

"YN?" Winter's voice broke through your trail of thoughts,snapping you back to reality.

"Oh, sorry, I was zoning out," you replied, trying to shake off the distraction.

"You've been distant all day. Is everything okay?" Ningning's concern was evident in her voice.

"Just tired, didn't get much sleep last night," you reassured them with a forced smile, hoping they wouldn't press further.

"Are you sure?" Giselle's skepticism lingered, her gaze searching yours.

"It's nothing, just life being complicated," you offered, trying to reassure their worries.

"If you need to talk, we're here for you," Karina chimed in, her comforting touch on your hands a familiar gesture she usually did. How you longed to confess and tell them about Heeseung and the jumble of emotions you felt and fought with, but the fear of ruining your relationships with both him and Karina kept you quiet.

At that moment, it came to you: you were in love with Heeseung. It had to be a mistake right? You could never like someone like Heeseung.  The way your heart thumped when Heeseung did small actions like hold your hand or even wipe off anything from your mouth.

 Yet, you couldn't shake the fear, the fear of history repeating itself with someone like Jiho, selfish and foolish. What was the point of falling for someone who didn't accept your feelings and liked someone else

HEESEUNG HAD REHEARSED EVERY WORD, every breath, for the moment he would finally summon the courage to ask you out for dinner. With trembling fingers, he reached for his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. The weight of his nerves pressed down on him as he prepared to take the risk.

As the phone rang, his heart raced, the sound of your voice on the other end sending a jumble of emotions through him "Hello?" you answered, your voice like music and beauty to his ears.

"Hi..." Heeseung replied, his voice betraying his unease.

"Why did you call me?" you asked, curiosity tinged but yet your voice sounded heavy and drained. Heeseung couldn't help but notice the change in your tone for the past days, wondering if he had somehow caused it. Had he done something wrong? 

"I was just wondering if... uhm... you wanted to go get dinner tonight together?" Heeseung's voice faltered slightly, the weight of his question hanging in the air.

"Dinner tonight?" Your voice held a hint of confusion, but there was also a spark of interest. "When and where?" you inquired.

"At the Japanese place down the block, at 6?" Heeseung suggested, hoping you would agree.

"Sure, I'll see you at 6 then," you replied, your voice brightening slightly.

"Right, anyways, bye!" Heeseung quickly ended the call, a rush of happiness coursing through him. He had done it. He asked you out for dinner.

With a sense of pride, Heeseung flopped onto his bed, his phone resting on his chest as. a wide grin spread across his face. He replayed the conversation in his mind, excited for the evening of day. 

Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, you couldn't contain your excitement. Heeseung. Lee Heeseung. had. Asked. you. out. to. dinner. You, YN LN.  You couldn't help but squeal with delight into your pillow.

Eager to make a good impression, you jumped out of bed and rushed to your closet, rummaging through your clothes in search of the perfect outfit for the occasion. 

HEESEUNG SAT NERVOUSLY, tapping the table as he waited for you to arrive. Within minutes, you rushed in and quickly spotted him.

"Hi!" you greeted with a smile, settling down at the table.

"Hi," he smiled back (inside you felt a flutter at how cute his smile was). You both looked at the menu and ordered as the waiter approached. After eating, you quietly walked outside, enjoying the cool evening air.

The dark, cloudless sky revealed a glimmering array of stars. You admired the view, unaware that Heeseung was watching you, captivated by your beauty.

"The stars are so pretty," you remarked in awe.

"Mhm," he replied, still focused on you. Suddenly, you felt his fingers gently tuck a stray hair behind your ear. Your face flushed as butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

"I have a question, YN..." Heeseung began, and you turned to him, curious.

"Do you... want to go to the dance?" he asked. Your heart raced, your stomach churned, and your head spun. He had just asked you to the dance.

"T-the dance?" you stuttered.

"Yeah... I mean, just as... you know, for visual purposes," he tried to clarify.

"Right..." you nodded, agreeing. "I'll go with you." Heeseung's face lit up with a big grin as you accepted his invitation.

"That's great! I'll, um... see you at the dance then," Heeseung said with a small smile and a wave as you both went your separate ways, heading home with a light heart.

As you walked home, your mind buzzed with excitement. The thought of going to the dance with Heeseung made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but replay the moment he asked you, feeling a rush of happiness each time. It was like a dream come true, and you couldn't wait for the night of the dance to arrive.

WEEKS FLEW BY, each one filled with anticipation, excitement, and a series of dates. Finally, the much-anticipated day of the dance had arrived. It had been six weeks since you eagerly marked this date on your calendar. Reflecting on the past four months since you met Heeseung, you knew deep down that you were head over heels in love with him. The moment he asked you to the dance, those feelings intensified.

"Do you think this dress is pretty enough?" you asked, twirling in your knee-length black dress adorned with delicate lace details, a sweetheart neckline, and spaghetti straps.  The dress hugged your figure perfectly.

"It's gorgeous," Ningning complimented, deftly assisting with your hair.

"It's perfect, just like you," Winter reassured, adjusting your dress with care.

"Easy for you to say, with Beomgyu as your date," you teased, prompting laughter from your friends.

"And you have Heeseung," Winter smiled, smoothing out the fabric of your dress.

"You two are so cute together," Giselle teased, earning a blush from you.

"I love you guys," you said, feeling grateful for their support as you shared a group hug.

"Even if I'm dating a man, you'll always be my number one," Winter jokes, lightening the mood as you head to Karina's car.

Upon arriving at the dance, the lively atmosphere was perfect. Laughter, music, and chatter filled the room as people talked, danced, and enjoyed themselves. Spotting Heeseung entering the room, you felt a rush of excitement.

He looked perfect in his suit, his hair perfectly styled. Rushing over to him, you greeted him with a beaming smile.

"Heeseung!" you exclaimed. Heeseung looked up, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. I

"You look amazing, YN," Heeseung complimented, his smile genuine.

"Thanks, but you're the one who looks stunning," you replied, feeling your heart flutter as you took in his appearance. "Come on, let's grab some snacks and go have fun!"

The next two hours were filled with laughter, dancing, and cherished moments spent with Heeseung and your friends. However, it was until you excused yourself to the bathroom, to then meet Jiho.

"YN," Jiho's voice cut through the noise, sending a chill down your spine.

"What do you want, Jiho?" you asked, your tone laced with irritation.

"Are you here with your 'so-called' boyfriend, Heeseung?" Jiho taunted, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Yes, and what's it to you?" you retorted, your patience wearing thin.

“Yeah there is.” his smirk widened, “Don’t act stupid, I knew everything.” 

“God I hate you Jiho.”  you spat, feeling your anger rise.

"Come on, YN. Admit you still love me, and everything will go back to normal," Jiho sneered.

“I don’t even like you anymore, Jiho.”  you said firmly, trying to keep your composure.

"Oh, really? Maybe this will change your mind," Jiho said, leaning in closer. You felt his fingers slip into your waist, his grip firm and tight. You felt his face leaning closer to yours. You quickly stepped back and pushed him aside. 

“Are you fucking crazy?” you yelled. 

“YN, why are you so pissed? Not like you like anyone.”  Jiho's eyes bore into yours, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I don’t want to fucking kiss you,” you glared, “Now fuck off please.” 

“Why is it because of Heeseung? Your fake boyfriend? God, he probably doesn’t even like you YN. He only likes you because you're popular.” he laughed. Your heart sank at his cruel words. The words stung as you heard each word. Heeseung was just a stupid fake boyfriend you had. The two of you had never had a real relationship. A real love. Was Heeseung just playing with your feelings? Did Heeseung even love you like how much you loved him? 

"I hate you, Jiho," you whispered before leaving the party alone, your heart felt heavy. 

YOU SPENT HOURS lying in bed, staring out the rain-splattered window, your cheeks damp from the relentless stream of tears. Days had passed since the dance, and you hadn't mustered the strength to leave the confines of your home. 

"YN, you've been here for hours," Karina's voice broke through the silence, her concern evident as she entered your room. 

"Why didn't you text me?" 

"Phone died," you muttered, burying your face deeper into the sheets.

"Tell me what's wrong," Karina urged gently, taking a seat beside you. 

"I don't know," you confessed, your voice barely audible. 

"Come on," Karina coaxed, her comforting presence offering a glimmer of solace. 

"Okay, fine," you relented, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Jiho said some awful things to me at the dance. Now I'm a wreck, and I can't face Heeseung. I'm in love with him, and it's tearing me apart." 

Karina's eyes widened at the torrent of emotions pouring out. "And you kept this from me all this time?" 

"Karina, I didn't know what to do," you admitted, your voice choking with emotion. "I thought Heeseung felt the same way, but then Jiho made me doubt everything."

"How does Jiho know anything? He's not Heeseung," Karina retorted, frustration evident in her tone. "He's just trying to mess with your head." 

"But what if he's right? What if Heeseung was just pretending all along?" you sighed, a heavy weight settling in your chest. 

"YN," Karina's voice softened, her touch gentle as she sought to comfort you. "How do you know Heeseung doesn't like you? Have you talked to him?" 

"I haven't," you admitted, uncertainty clouding your thoughts.

"Then how can you be so sure?" Karina questioned, her eyes searching yours. "Heeseung cares about you, YN. He was worried sick after the dance. He searched everywhere for you and even left the party early out of concern."

"Are you serious?" you asked, a glimmer of hope flickering in your eyes. 

"Dead serious," Karina affirmed, her sincerity unwavering. "Talk to him, YN. You'll see." 

"But what if I'm wrong?" you hesitated, your fear holding you back. "Just trust me on this," Karina reassured, squeezing your hand gently. "Talk to Heeseung. You'll thank me later." Karina offered you a reassuring smile before enveloping you in an embrace.

HEESEUNG WAS SERIOUSLY DEAD WORRIED about you. He thought you were possibly hit by some car or even worse kidnapped. His thoughts wandered as he tried to think of all the possibilities you were. You stopped even coming to school for weeks.

The memory of the dance replayed in his mind like a broken record, haunting him with unanswered questions. Your sudden disappearance after excusing yourself to the bathroom left him questionable and restless. Desperately, he asked your friends as your friends only left him shrugs and quietness making him uneasy of the situation.

When you finally returned after a week-long absence, Heeseung couldn't help but notice the change in you. You awfully looked tired and you had eyebags. And the most important change, you were avoiding Heeseung. Was it something he had done to mess things up?

Heeseung sat at his usual spot on the rooftop, gazing out at the view, trying to get his thoughts out.

"Look who it is, Lee Heeseung," a voice pierced through the silence, pulling Heeseung from his reverie. Turning, he found Jiho leaning casually against the stairway exit, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Heeseung's girlfriend, huh?" Jiho taunted, his words hitting Heeseung like a sudden blow.

"What did you do to YN?" Heeseung's voice was edged with a mixture of anger and concern, his gaze sharp.

"Nothing much, just a little truth-telling," Jiho chuckled, his demeanor full of arrogance. 

"What truth?" Heeseung's tone was laced with urgency, his fists clenched in frustration.

“Just a few things that need to be said. Like how you guys are just dating, nothing more than that.”

Heeseung's jaw tightened as the weight of Jiho's words settled in, his mind reeling with disbelief and anger.

"Do you even know why YN hates you?" Heeseung spat, his voice seething with contempt.

"Why don't you tell me?" Jiho's smirk widened.

"Cause you’re truly an awful person” Heeseung retorted, his patience wearing thin.

“Oh really?” Jiho teased, “I didn’t know.”

Jiho's mocking laughter only fueled Heeseung's rage, his frustration exploding into action as he delivered a swift punch to Jiho's jaw.

"You're really undeserving of her," Heeseung's words echoed in the empty space.

“You could punch me as many times, I don’t care.” Jiho smiled. 

“I would but actually I don’t want to see your ugly face, so fuck off.” Heeseung stormed out of the rooftop leaving Jiho alone on the ground.

IT WAS 1 AM WHEN YOU FOUND YOURSELF at the convenience store, clad in your most comfortable clothes, not even caring if people saw you. The rush of cold air from the conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, scanning the assortment of snacks. The scent of sweet delights filled your senses, tempting you to buy more. You reached for a snack when the chime of the door signaled someone's arrival.

Looking up, you were met with the sight of Heeseung standing across the store, his gaze fixed on you. It felt like deja vu, reminiscent of the first time you laid eyes on him. Your throat went dry, memories of Jiho's words echoing in your mind: "He probably doesn’t even like you." Anxious, you bit your lip as Heeseung approached.

"Can we talk outside?" Heeseung's voice broke through the tension. With a quiet nod, you followed him out of the store.

"YN, what's going on?" Heeseung's concern was evident as he confronted you, hoping you would answer honestly.

"Heeseung, it's nothing," you lied

"It's not nothing," Heeseung persisted, his tone firm.

"Okay, fine, I'll tell you. I fell in love with you, but then Jiho made me doubt everything. I thought you probably didn’t even like me, maybe you liked Karina instead. What was the point of being with you if I'm only going to hurt myself?" The words spilled out in a rush, leaving you empty.. Heeseung froze at your confession, disbelief in his expression.

"You like me?" Heeseung's eyebrow arched in surprise.

"I know you don't like me—" Before you could finish, Heeseung silenced you with a soft kiss. His lips were soft and perfect.You felt his fingers sliding into your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. Your lips were moving in sync, in the same passion, kissing each other back. You felt his fingers intertwined with yours, drawing soft circles on the back of your hand.

Pulling away, breathless, you attempted to speak, but Heeseung beat you to it. "I like you a lot, YN. I was in denial of my feelings for months, but I realized I was actually in love with you." You widen your eyes at his confession

"Heeseung, you're not lying, right?" suspicion tinged your words.

"Do you think I would ever lie to you?" Heeseung chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear, a gesture that he would always done 

"No, but it all seems non-real," you confessed.

Heeseung's laughter, the sound you cherished the most, filled the air. "Then, will you be my real girlfriend, YN LN?"

"Of course, any day I'll choose you," you smiled, leaning in for another kiss. 

MONTHS HAD PASSED and you found yourself in a state of bliss you never imagined possible. Seated on the rooftop with Heeseung, your fingers intertwined, you gazed out into the view before you, the cool breeze enveloping you in a sense of serenity.

"Look how far we've come," you remarked, a smile gracing your lips as you watched Heeseung absentmindedly draw small patterns on your palm.

"Yeah," Heeseung nodded, his touch gentle and comforting.

"I love you, Heeseung," you whispered softly, your words carrying the weight of your affection.

"I love you more," Heeseung replied in a tender whisper, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck as he leaned in to press a series of delicate kisses along its curve.

"Heeseung, that tickles!" you laughed, squirming slightly at the sensation.

"This is your punishment for getting a 60% on the exam," Heeseung teased, his tone playful yet teasing.

"Hey, I'm not some nerd like you!" you retorted, playfully poking his side.

"Nerd?" Heeseung chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"A cute nerd," you amended with a grin, your heart swelling with affection.

"And you're my cute princess," Heeseung declared, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to your lips, his love for you shining brightly in his eyes. You truly were in love with Heeseung, and you weren’t going to deny it.

[leafzu]

Older! Neighbor Nanami who just moved in to the house next to yours.

Older! Neighbor Nanami to whom you smiled when you saw him standing in front of his door with a cardboard box.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who blushes a little receiving that innocent little smile from you.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who sees you from his balcony everyday. ‘Such a nice girl’ he thought.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who doesn't really talk much with the other people in the neighborhood. He keeps to himself. But you strike up a conversation every now and then, which he doesn't seem to mind.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who helps you carry your groceries inside by not letting you hold a single bag. He carries them all himself.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who thinks of you when he sees strawberry shortcakes displayed on his favorite bakery on his way home from work.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who finds you extremely cute because of your height. You were so small.

Older! Neighbor Nanami always listened to you so intently. The way he kept eye contact while listening made your heart skip a beat.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who secretly grows tulips for you in his because you once mentioned it was your favorite flower.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who comes to discover that he is much older than you.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who couldn't help but fall for you rather quickly. You're so cute and just so nice to him. Always caring for him, giving him that sweet innocent smile.

Older! Neighbor loves when you invite him for dinner when he has a bad day at work. You just seem to notice every time. And that makes him so lovesick.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who starts to distance himself from you after realizing his feelings. It wasn't right. You were much younger than. If you found out you'd probably feel disgusted with him.

But his feelings weren't of lust.

Older! Neighbor Nanami held pure love for you. Your presence brought comfort and light to him. You were such a nice girl. Always looking out for him even though he's the one older.

Older! Neighbor Nanami was scared. He was scared of scaring you away. So he locked himself away from you.

But he didn't realize this would end up affecting you, in a negative way of course.

When you saw how he started to avoid you all of a sudden, you thought maybe you had done something wrong. Did you annoy him? Maybe he was tired of your constant chit chat. Maybe he wanted some space. Or maybe..he didn't like you anymore.

That last thought made your heart heavy.

Unbeknownst to your older! Neighbor Nanami, you'd fallen for him the moment you locked eyes with him. He was so kind, so mature. Better than any man you've ever met. Always listening to you. Being a comfort to you. Day by day, you wanted more of him.

But Older! Neighbor Nanami didn't know about anything of this. He only distanced himself more for your 'own good'.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who was dying inside to see you. You were a part of his everyday life. The only good thing in his monotonous life.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who stopped seeing you at the balcony. It was killing him not seeing you. To not knock on your door and confess.

It was as if he's wish came true. In a different way.

Older! Neighbor Nanami was surprised when his doorbell rang one evening and saw it was you.

Older! Neighbor Nanami got a bad feeling when you told him you 'wanted to ask something.'

“Sure, please go ahead.”

Older! Neighbor Nanami who's heart broke a little when you asked him, “Did I do something to make you not like me?”

Not like you? He was in love with you.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who couldn't look at your innocent doe eyes. He didn't know how to answer that.

Feeling defeated you stood up. “Sorry, I...” You looked away. “I shouldn't have come here.”

Just as you were about to walk away, a hand on your wrist stopped you.

“W-Wait a minute.. please.”

This was his only chance.

His heart was beating so fast. He never meant to make you feel like this. He thought maybe if he distanced himself you would eventually move on with your life. A feeling of guilt resided in him for making you feel this way.

“The reason I've been kind of distant is because -”

Older! Neighbor Nanami let's out a deep breath and

puts his hand behind your head and pulls you in for a kiss. His other hand on your back. It's like he got you caged.

You were probably going to hate him after this. Run away from him. And before that happens he wanted to kiss you. To feel your soft lips against his.

And to his surprise, you kissed him back. Did not resist. He didn't know if it was a heat of the moment thing but it didn't matter. He needed you.

He wanted you

He pulls you further in to deepen the kiss. He's got you completely caged. His hand making your hair a mess. Your hands on his chest. You slightly pulled his collar for more.

You always liked his formal office wear. Suits and ties were made for him. And when he rolled his sleeves in front of you at the dinner table over your place, you had to excuse yourself to the every time for that because your face would heat up. Not to mention the uncontrollable pounding on your chest.

A kiss so passionate that it left you two breathless. Flushed faces. Hands still on his chest and his on your back.

“I have fallen for you.”

Older! Neighbor Nanami couldn't look at you in the eyes. He was sure you hated him. Felt disgusted by him. But your head on his shoulders said otherwise.

His heart was pounding so fast that he was sure you felt it too.

“I've...fallen for you too.” And you held on to him tightly.

Older! Neighbor Nanami was so ecstatic that he wanted to kiss you again. But instead he held you close to his chest, burying his face in your hair.

He is never letting you slip away again.

He's not old just, older ;)

[no-144444]

in sickness- c.leclerc

summary: you get sicky...

pairing: charles leclerc x fem! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

When Charles had decided to go vacationing with his friends while you finished up your work before Christmas, he was not expecting what he saw when he came back. Every single blind in your apartment was down despite it being the middle of the day, the temperature was down from its regular 20 degrees, and you were nowhere to be found. 

He dropped his bags by the door and left his shoes on the rack, and he ventured further into the apartment. You weren’t in your office, nor your living room, nor your kitchen, so the last place was your bedroom. When he opened the door, he wasn’t exactly ready for what he saw. 

You, on your bed, looking sicker than ever, somehow asleep as you battled some sort of temperature. He put his hand to your forehead, and he almost pulled it right back off, you were so hot. He quickly grabbed a face cloth and ran it under cold water, then placed it on your head. He didn’t really know what else to do. You never really got sick, it was always him who was ill. 

He left you to sleep as he cleaned up the rest of your apartment. Not that it was messy, it was just not as clean as he knew you liked it, so he got to work. 

After about an hour of that, he decided he should make you soup or something, but then he remembered his abysmal cooking skills, and ordered food in, instead. 

When you resurfaced, you didn’t feel as shit as when you went to bed, which was a plus. The past 5 days had been this awful temperature, chesty cough, nausea, and full-body aches. You groaned as you got up, knowing you should probably start cleaning your apartment-

You questioned your own brain when you opened your door from your bedroom to see your entire living room clean. Had you done it and you just didn’t remember? Were you starting to forget things now? Is that a new symptom? You should probably go back to the doctor-

“My love,” he sighed, pulling you into a hug. 

“Charles?!” you questioned. 

“Hi darling,” he smiled, looking down at you. 

“I thought you were still in-”

“I came back early,” he explained. “What’s been wrong with you, mi beauté?”

You cracked a small smile. “I seriously doubt I look half-way beautiful right now.”

He shook his head. “You’re always beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes. “Cheesy,” you scoffed before letting go of him and walking to your kitchen. “I’ve just been sick, it’s not anything bad.”

He looked at you sceptically. “You’re sure?”

You nodded, taking out some of the soup. “Thank you for coming, but I really don’t want you to get this, so you should head to your apartment or something.” 

He frowned. “My own girlfriend kicking me out?”

You rolled your eyes again. “Your own girlfriend is looking out for your safety, I think you’ll find.”

He shook his head, sitting beside you on the couch. “I’m not leaving you. In sickness and in health.”

You sucked in a breath of air. “We’re not even engaged yet.”

He shrugged. “I plan on honouring that for the rest of my life, why not start now.” 

You grinned, resting your head against his shoulder on the couch as you started channel hopping. “You’re so sappy.”

He shrugged. He didn't mind anything you called him, once you still called him yours. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :)

ferrari masterlist

[stars-obsession-pit]

The ghost of a past regret

The tome hidden under Damian’s mattress continued to burn in the back of his mind. He knows he shouldn’t have kept it. Magic is dangerous, that of the Infinite Realms especially so. And there was no guarantee the book was even accurate; he’d never given the cultists a chance to make use of its contents.

But a single section from it refused to leave his mind. He couldn’t just throw out the opportunity it offered.

‘Danyal…’

–––

Damian had hated to admit it, but his twin brother could be cannier than him at times. Danyal had caught on to the harm of the League long before he ever had.

And he had tried to get out. To get them both out.

Damn him. Why couldn’t Danyal have been selfish for once in his life…

But Damian had still been caught up in it all. He was the perfect heir. He was loyal. He would not betray his family in the League.

And yet he’d been so quick to betray his brother…

Danyal’s shocked gasp as Damian’s knife slipped between his ribs still echoed in his ears when he awoke from nightmares. Sometimes, on particularly bad nights, he would swear he could still feel the blood dripping down his hands, and amount of scrubbing ever made the sensation go away.

He was sure Alfred at least had noticed the redness of his hands, but he never pushed for answers. Damian was thankful for that, even as he felt undeserving of the comfort. It had all been his fault.

At the time of the betrayal, Damian had felt little of the emotional weight. He was disappointed in his brother, but he was just doing his duty to the League. It would only be later that it set in, and the regrets continued to eat at him long after his family forbid all discussion of the traitor his twin.

What if he hadn’t fought? Would they have succeeded at escaping? Would they have met their father sooner? Would he still be able to see Danyal’s smile?

It was pointless to wonder. Danyal was gone.

–––

But perhaps not completely.

The siren song of the spellbook continued to call to him. The first thing to ever offer even the faintest glimmer of hope for finding closure.

For it contained a ritual to summon the ghosts of the betrayed.

Maybe it wouldn’t work. Regardless of the book’s accuracy, he’d never done anything like it before and wouldn’t be using the spell for its intended purpose. It was described for use in combat, tearing apart enemies with the specters of the vengeful dead, not for seeking atonement. Was changing the context even possible without entirely restructuring the ritual? He didn’t know.

And it wasn’t like he could ask the magicians of the Justice League Dark for help—even the most unscrupulous among them would still try to dissuade him and likely inform his father.

But how could he not try?

It might be wishful thinking to hope he would ever forgive him. But even if Danyal rejects the apology, it would still be worth it just to see his brother just one more time…

He grit his teeth and clamped his eyes shut as emotions warred against logic inside him. It was a terrible idea. He shouldn’t do it. He shouldn’t.

‘Damn it.’

The tome felt impossibly heavy as he pulled it from under the mattress with unsteady hands.

He had a ritual to set up.

[ofbatsandballads]

please take this. I made myself cry writing it and I have nothing to say except that putting ya’aburnee and darling by halsey on my jason playlist was a brutal choice. also look up flower language if you want additional feelings.

There’s so many things you want for Jason Todd.

You want him to get a good night’s sleep for once. You let him close his pretty seafoam eyes and lay his head in the crook of your neck as you scratch gently at his scalp. It always calms him down, grounds him in the here and now. Your arms around him, your fingers carding through his hair, the rise and fall of your chest that’s synced with his–it all reminds him that he’s safe, that he’s home. You want that feeling to follow him into his dreams, to let him find true rest. So when his body goes tense and his breathing gets labored, you hold him closer and hum gently into his ear until whatever haunts him in his sleep is chased away by the comfort you bring.

You want to make sure he’s protected. You wish you could deflect every hit, blade, and bullet away from his body. You wish he would see his body as something worth protecting. He would stop if you asked, would settle into a normal life as best as he could. You would never ask because to do so would be to deny the part of him you love most: his heart that beats to help others. So you protect him in the ways that you can. You stitch cuts and treat burns, you mend his jackets and help clean his guns. More than anything, you guard his peace of mind like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. You’re never cruel to him, never scream vicious words or toss him out into the cold night. You call Bruce and thank him for the first edition Jane Austen novels that arrived on your doorstep on August 16th when Jason just…can’t. You let him grip your hand brutally tight under the table when you go to the manor for Thanksgiving for the first time. And when it gets really bad? When he feels the burning of green waters that breathed life into him that he didn’t want, when hideous laughter echoes in a place it’s never been? You do something no one has ever done for him. You wait. You stay. You stay by his side until he can breathe again, until dawn breaks and he can see the light again. And always, always you, haloed in it like an angel he doesn’t think he deserves. He does.

You want him to have a good cup of hot chocolate. He told you about it once when he came home after a long winter patrol. Half delirious from exhaustion, he reminisced about how Bruce would make them both a cup of hot chocolate after particularly rough or successful patrols in December. How this specific hot chocolate had no equal—even Alfred couldn’t replicate the richness and warmth. You noticed the fondness in his voice, the longing so intense that it still makes your heart ache for him. So you do some light stalking and hunt down Tim Drake, demand that he give you the information you want or else you’ll disclose how he really lost his spleen to Bruce (why he was dense enough to tell Jason, you’ll never know). And that is how Bruce Wayne, billionaire philanthropist single father and the Batman, receives an email with the subject line “URGENT: Recipe Request” that reads as follows:

To whom it may concern,

I have been made aware that you have a remarkably compelling hot chocolate recipe that is hitherto unparalleled by cafes, franchises, and butlers alike. I am emailing you to inquire about my being sent this recipe post-haste. This is less a request than a demand. I will do my best to ensure that you, at some point in time not specified (it will take great effort on my part), are able to witness the consumption of the hot chocolate by the individual that will be receiving the product of the recipe.

Best regards,

Someone who loves your son.

Bruce sends the recipe the second he receives the email. He has to sneak his phone under the conference table at the Wayne Enterprises board meeting to do it, but he still manages to reply in two minutes and forty-seven seconds. And you make good on your promise. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jason shine as brightly as he does that Christmas, lit up by the lights on the twelve foot tree as he sips his hot chocolate from the same red mug that’s been sitting in the kitchen cabinet since he last drank from it. The matching black mug is clasped in the hands of the hot chocolate connoisseur himself, who smiles softly like the magic of the season has returned to his life for the first time in ages.

You want him to heal. It’s a big ask; you know that. But you’ve never been one for giving up hope, and if anyone can manage to achieve the impossible, it’s Jason. So you tell him it’s a great idea when he jokes about getting a therapist. You wait for him in the car the first time he goes and you let him open up to you in his own time when he comes out of the appointment body tight as a bowstring and eyes bloodshot. You watch quietly and celebrate the little victories you see him win. He can call his father first now; he doesn’t do it often, but he can. He can talk to his younger brother without hating his hands and the blood that’s been spilled on them, without going out on patrol and intentionally letting all the worst hits make contact. He can go out to lunch with his older brother and his youngest, can laugh with them over that ridiculous thing Bruce did at a gala once to make them all laugh. He can bear his birthday a little bit better now, can accept the cake you bake and actually make a wish when he blows out the candles. But you’ll never know about the moment that you start to get what you want. Jason goes to visit his own grave on the anniversary of his death and finds a bouquet of red carnations, baby’s breath, and honeysuckle with a note in your handwriting that reads “Someone told me once that you were magic, that that was the best thing about you. I think it’s far more important that you were loved. I don’t know what you could’ve been. I don’t wonder about it like those that loved you did because all I know is who you became. He’s wonderful. He’s still magic. I think you’d be proud of him. I’ll do my best to take care of him for you.” He sits there for an hour in tears. Then he takes one bud of each flower and the note, goes home and presses them into the pages of his favorite book. He holds you in his arms in bed that night and feels, for the first time in a long time, a sense of peace down to his very bones.

You want—above all else—Jason Todd to feel loved. You want him to feel so cherished and wanted that he cannot possibly look at himself without realizing that he is something precious, something beloved. So you tell him that you love him and you accept his warm embrace as his way of saying it back. You make him chocolate chip cookies and sneak one into the pocket of his tactical pants when he goes on patrol (they’re soft, they don’t get crunched when he’s thrown from a roof). You read his favorite books to understand what he’s saying when he goes off on tangents about class and social hierarchy and how they governed life in the 19th century. You trace his scars and kiss away his tears when he can’t believe that he could be transformed from a being marred by brutality into a man revered with gentleness. You will love him until the day you both die. You will love him in death, until whatever atoms made up you and him come together again. You will love him until everything that ever is or ever was ceases to be in a supernova of light. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll love him in whatever is born after.

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Lando Norris and [Y/n] Wolff are an on-and-off thing, fans think they're all good after [Y/n] releases a song supposedly about Lando, but they forget he's not the only Brit on the grid.

username1 HE LAUGHS AT ALL MY JOKES

↳username2 AND HE SAYS I'M SO AMERICAN

username3 sorry but in which part is y/n american?

↳username1 her mother, Y/m/n Y/l/n, is American and Y/n spent most of her life in the US after Y/m/n and Toto divorced

username3 oooh good to know, thank you!!

username4 I'm so happy to know Y/n and Lando are still together after all

↳username5 But they were never official

username4 But it's obvious! They were seen on dates many times, hanging out around Monaco, not to mention every time Y/n is in the paddock she spends more time in the McLaren garage than Mercedes'

username6 my fav nepo baby <3

username7 damn Lando must be doing a good job lol

username8 Y/n finally released a love song, everybody thank Lando

username9 Weren't there rumours about them being over forever just during the winter break?

↳username10 Toto would find a way to get Lando kicked out of F1 if he ever broke Y/n's heart lmao

username9 What does Toto gotta do with McLaren?

username10 He's rich? Lol

username9 And? Stroll's daddy is rich as well yet he can't make idk Verstappen disappear lol rich doesn't mean he can do anything he wants

username11 Guys I have a bad feeling, we actually haven't seen them together in a long time , I'm afraid they might be actually broken up for good

↳username6 I wouldn't read too much into it, Y/n studies in Monaco so she isn't able to attend races right now

username11 You sure? Y/n hasn't made a single appearance since the season started

username6 The season started in the middle of her uni year lol you ever thought of that?

↳username7 this is literally a love song, how are we even wondering if they broke up? she wouldn't release this if they were done

username6 THIS!! I feel like this song is a confirmation from Y/n that all is good, maybe she was tired of people talking if they're broken up or not

username5 Then why don't they make it official?

username6 that's not a question i can answer

username12 "I'll go anywhere he goes" then why aren't you attending races miss girl? Education can wait

↳username2 lmao it literally can't wait

username13 "the books you read" ma'am, Lando looks like he hasn't touched a single book his whole life

↳username12 And it's not like he dresses that well either, his style is nothing special

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

y/n's texts with Lando

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

username1 All men are the same I swear

↳username2 nooo I swear there are good ones, but that's just not Lando

username3 excuse me sir, y/n has just written a love song about you

username4 NOOOO THE WAY HE PUT HIS HAND ON THE GIRL'S LOWER BACK

↳username1 Him and Y/n are done frfr 😭

username5 Do we know who the girl is?

↳f1gossip Not yet, but I'm sure we'll know in no time

username6 Wtf is wrong with you, it's not her fault Lando can't focus on one woman

username7 But there's no way she didn't know about him and Y/n ;)

username6 There is/was no "Lando and Y/n", they never confirmed a relationship

username8 He's just won in Miami, I was hoping they'd make it official after that :(

↳username9 Sameeee it would be so cool

↳username10 Literally same, it'd be perfect

username11 Lando Norris, you disappoint me again

↳username12 at this point Y/n must be used to that lmao poor girl I hope she finds someone better

username13 WHAT DOES TOTO SAY ABOUT IT?

↳username3 Whats he supposed to say? Y/n is a grown woman, stop treating her like a baby

username14 I swear if we see Y/n back again with him after THIS I'm gonna break some dishes

↳username15 Yeah I hope she'll find some self respect and finally leave his ass

username16 Y/n I beg you to leave him, the d can't be THAT fire

yn_wolff posted on instastory

landonorris replied to your story:

↳mind if i join?

yn_wolff:

yeah lol don't join

landonorris:

i was gonna sail today anyway, what if we do it together?

hey i think i see u thru my window who are u with?

yn_wolff:

with dad and susie

stalker ass creep don't get anywhere near me today

landonorris:

I see another man

who is he?

*seen*

y/n answer me who is he

is that russell?

fucking russell wtf is he doing there

he better keep his hands away from you

what the fuck why are u hugging him

yn_wolff:

i'm hugging george and I'll do something worse if you don't stop with ur stalker shit

landonorris:

what the fuck do you mean y/n

yn_wolff:

don't worry, I'm sure that blonde girl would love to give you a hug, you should go see her

landonorris:

she's just a friend

y/n you're mine

she doesn't mean shit to me

don't show my texts to russell

yn_wolff:

Hello it's George, stop texting my girlfriend or we'll have to tell Toto

landonorris:

girlfriend?

username1 Right after? The Lando thing was yesterday

↳f1gossip Yeah, and this was this morning

username2 Whats Y/n doin with George? 🤨

↳username3 in case you forgot she's y/n WOLFF, the daughter of Mercedes' boss which GR drives for

username4 After seeing Y/n's story I hoped she's finally spending some time with Lando but...

↳username5 Have u seen what Lando posted? 😂

username4 What did he post?

username5 Oh apparently he deleted it already lol it was a story

username5 Anyway he posted like a lowkey thirst trap pic and the music he added was Tumblr girls by g eazy lmao

username4 Boohoo consequences of his own actions catching up

username5 Yeahh and he especially chose the verse that goes like "fucking off and on, always stop and go, probably got someone, choose not to know"

username6 Guys, I say we take in consideration the possibility of 'so american' being about George

landonorris Monaco weekend 🇲🇨☀

view all comments

username1 Why do I feel like he posted this just so people think Y/n was there with him even though there's not a single pic of her? 😂

↳username2 Bro why he want her when he can't have her anymore?

username3 get over it, it's your fault

username4 I feel like he's tryna say "Hey guys look, Y/n took these pics" but why would we believe it 💀

↳username1 Exactly!! We all KNOW she most likely spent the day with George

username5 Now all i think about when i see Lando is the story he deleted 😭

↳username6 totally hahah he literally called Y/n a bitch but also admitted that he can't help wanting other girls

username7 Wait when did this happen? When did he say that?

username6 he never said that, it's lyrics of a song he posted but quickly deleted

username5 He immediately regretted hahah

username8 @/maxfewtrell Tell Lando to behave, why are you even helping him with this bullshit?

username9 It's too late, you had your chance FOR HALF A YEAR and still chose to lead Y/n on, now she got someone else and you're being petty

↳username10 She let him lead her on for half a year? Damn it he should pay for her therapy

username9 I feel like she really hoped she can change him but realized "if you can't change the man, change the man"

username10 Very accurate lmao

username11 Guys, I believe Y/n and Lando were a thing for much more time than half a year, it was going on for at least a year, they were just very secretive about it

username9 Well, good for her to finally get out of this shit, she deserves so much better and I hope George will give her that

username1 I bet Toto loves his new son in law

↳username2 He has to be very relieved to know Y/n chose George eventually

username3 We still don't know if they're dating, remember George drives for Mercedes

username4 I really hope Lando is crying rn

username5 Now Lando for sure can't trick us into thinking Y/n was with him lmao

username6 I love George for saving Y/n

username7 I love them, they're all so old money, Y/n and George are a great match

username8 MY DELULU IS BECOMING TRULULU

username9 This is our confirmation that so american is about George

username10 I feel like Y/n upgraded at some point but at one point also downgraded

↳username2 Let's not talk about it, we should be happy for her and George, at least he won't treat her like an option

username11 George is literally THE MAN for Y/n, I'm so glad she finally realized that

↳username12 Chill, let's not assume stuff before we have any statement from them, we all know where assuming can get us

username13 This is my old money dream

username14 HEAR ME OUT but I'd actually love to see George and Y/n get married one day

↳username12 THIS is exactly where assuming can get us

yn_wolff Oh you'll like him, he's really kind andhe's funny like you sometimes, and I found someone I really like maybe for the first time

view all comments

username1 I'm so happy for them I'm gonna cry

lewishamilton Invite me next time!

↳georgerussell63 Toto said it was family only, I'm sorry, Lewis!

↳yn_wolff Ask Ferrari to invite you wtf

username1 lmao only Y/n Wolff can talk to a 7 times world champion like that

username2 YESSSS IT'S OFFICIAL

↳username1 Y/n is officially free from Lando!!

username3 I love the vibes, I love the fact that Y/n is dating a driver from her dad's team, I love the fact that Toto accepts it

↳username4 He must've been going CRAZY when Y/n had the situationship with Lando

username3 Absolutely and I think we all know about Toto's anger issues lol

susie_wolff 💝

↳yn_wolff 🩷

ymn_yln I hope George knows he's welcome in America too 😊

↳yn_wolff Of course!! We have a plane on Friday���️

↳georgerussell63 I wanted to take Y/n to Miami so we can visit after the GP, but she refused 😔

yn_wolff Shut up I have uni!!

georgerussell63 It can't be more important than me meeting your mum

lilymhe Beautiful couple 😚

↳yn_wolff @/susie_wolff it's about you and dad💕

lilymhe Might as well be 😂

username3 Susie and Toto literally are Y/n and George in like 20 years lmao

alex_albon Finally, no more secrets

↳username2 ALBONO KNEW?

username4 Phew I can't imagine how much stress it was for him 😂

username5 George just MIGHT be the guy which so american is about...

username6 Something about this relationship makes me feel so at peace and I don't even know them in person

charles_leclerc Someone check on Lando😂

↳yn_wolff Charles 💀

username5 Is he wrong tho

username7 I laughed harder than I should've

↳username8 Betting all my money he's regretting all his actions

username9 As he should tbh imagine leading sb on for about a year, people who do this are evil

username8 Yeah, that was so wrong of him

username10 No but I need to know what books George reads tho

landonorris 👍

↳yn_wolff Stalker ass you don't even follow me

↳username4 THE AUDACITY

landonorris I hope you'll have fun while it lasts

↳yn_wolff YOU'RE the one to speak about lasting

↳georgerussell63 Not your place to worry about it🙂

username5 THE EMOJI MAKES IT SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON

username1 "THE WAY YOU DRESS, THE BOOKS YOU READ" he dresses well✅ he looks like he reads✅

username2 He's the perfect man for Y/n frfr

username3 I'm so happy that it's not about Lando after all, I was like girl he's treating you like shit and you write a love song??

username4 I've been waiting for it for YEARS

username5 So they had a thing for no longer than since the end of winter break and already made it official

↳username2 Something Lando couldn't do for almost a whole ass year lmao

username6 But have y'all noticed how obsessed with Y/n Lando is suddenly?

↳username1 of course he is, that's how it works, he's been rejected so his fragile ego is hurt

username3 He's even liking fans' edits of Y/n😭man is manifesting hard but I doubt anything can help him

username7 Good to know George's hands are warmer than hell, they don't look like it

username8 Girlie deserved a man who doesn't have commitment issues aka is a real man, I'm glad she got him

username9 Y'all think Lando reads Y/n x reader fanfics?👀

↳username1 Totally

↳username2 I can imagine it

↳username3 He'll do it until his delulu becomes trululu (it'll never happen🔥)

username10 I'll laugh so hard if now Lando will now stop fooling around with other girls 😂

username11 Can't wait for a whole album full of love songs about him

↳username12 I don't think we'll have to wait for long

[munsonsmixtapes]

Feral Eddie?

Eddie x nerdy shy reader where reader goes down on Eddie in the stacks of the school library. Best part is reader is the one to initiate it. Reader won’t let Eddie cum if he is too loud.

cw: MDNI (18+) oral (m receiving) Eddie receives a handjob, slight dom!reader, sub!eddie

The library is practically empty as you browse. You're meeting Eddie here and decide to look at the books while you wait. This has been your make out spot for the past few months and you think you're finally ready to take things to the next level.

Eddie has been nothing but sweet, never pressuring you to do anything you don't want to. He always goes at your paces, never asking for more and always eager to do whatever you want.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and you turn around, a smile appearing on your lips as you take in those pretty honey eyes. He smiles back as you grab hold of his shirt, pulling him to you as your lips find his. You're feeling bold today and he loves seeing this side of you. The one you only show him because of how comfortable with him.

His hands stay at your waist like the gentleman he is as his lips move against yours softly. Yours are hungry, tired of the gentle, soft stuff you've been doing for months now. As amazing as it's been, you want to try something new. You want to make him feel as good as he's made you. And you know exactly what to do, but you're not entirely sure how to go about it.

You tongue slides into his mouth as your arms wrap around his neck. He matches your energy, pressing you into the bookcase behind you, his fingers digging into your waist. His body is fully pressing into you and you feel his cock against you.

You feel drool collecting in your mouth as you think about sucking him off. You've never done it before, but you want to so bad. You want to taste him, to lick every single drop of cum from the head.

Eddie pulls away from you and you try to chase his lips, but he pulls you away from him every so slightly. You're confused as to what he's doing, but he reaches up to wipe the corner of your mouth before you can ask.

"You're drooling," he tells you. "Are you okay?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could-I could take care of that for you." Your eyes drop to his crotch and you can see it's gotten up even more since you started kissing.

"Take care of-oh. Baby, you don't have to do that." He really wants you to, but he's not going to pressure you. He wants to go at your pace, but he has to admit that he'd love to have you take care of him so he wouldn't have to cut your make out session short so he can go to the bathroom to get himself off.

"But I want to. You always do so much for me and I want to repay you. Please." You're batting your eyelashes as you pulling him close again, grabbing hold of his cock, giving it a squeeze which causes Eddie to gasp.

"God, please," he whines and you're quick to pull his pants and underwear down. As soon as his cock comes into view, you immediately wonder how it's going to fit in your mouth.

You lower yourself onto your knees, your heart racing in your chest. Even though you've never actually given a blowjob, you know exactly what to do. You spit into your hand then grab hold of the base moving it up and down, slow at first, but then you pick up the pace, your eyes widening as he lets out a loud moan.

Your hand stops and Eddie quickly apologizes, desperate for you to continue and you do, pumping your hand even harder. You stop every time he gets too loud and it gets to the point where he has to bite down on the collar of his t-shirt to prevent himself from making any noise.

He's holding onto the bookcase for hear life as he hold in his moan, cum leaking out of the tip that you're quick to clean up with your tongue before finally taking him into your mouth. His fingers move to your hair as you suck him off, your tongue licking up and down the under side of his cock.

You're awkward about it at first, but you eventually get in a good rhythm, licking and sucking like this is something you do all the time. And this by far the best head Eddie's ever gotten.

You remove your hand and try your best to take all of him even though tears are pricking your eyes. You keep going, though, looking up at Eddie who's got his eyes shut tight, biting down hard on his shirt as he gives your hair a yank in response to the pleasure he's receiving. If you had known you would have gotten this kind of response, you would have done this so much sooner.

His nails dig into your scalp as he comes and he's able to hold back this time, a loud, dirty moan come from his mouth as he cum leaking out into your mouth. You pulling him out of your mouth and make sure he sees you swallow before you get up onto your feet.

He gets his pants on in a flash and the two of you gather your things before racing out of the library before anyone catches you. It's then that you decide that maybe you need a new make out spot, especially since now you're going to be getting up to more than just kissing.