#on the way to prom and then probably on part of the way to get food after | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 2 months ago

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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 7

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6

Robin’s been keeping her eyes peeled, and things have only gotten weirder.

Chrissy and Steve are still tied at the hip, still holding hands sometimes in the halls, she’s still wearing his letterman jacket any chance she gets. It all screams perfect textbook couple destined to win prom king and queen in a few months and pop out boring babies with glorious hair a few years later.

Except, she’s seen Chrissy leave two more notes in Eddie’s locker, has seen her and Steve pick up random books out of the library and pull envelopes out of them. She’d think the pair were pulling some sort of horrible prank on Eddie, if Chrissy wasn’t so goddamn nice.

And she’s seen Steve staring down the other boy, more caught in Eddie’s pull then even Chrissy is. It’s like he’s trying to melt Eddie’s eyeballs straight out of his skull with the force of his gaze. For his part, Eddie never even seems to notice.

That’s not even mentioning whatever the hell had happened in the cafeteria last week when Eddie had kissed Chrissy’s hand, and then Steve had whisked her away before Jason could start some sort of pissing contest.

Even the band nerds were all atwitter with that development.

And then there’s the other guy: Jeff.

Before this whole cluster of a situation, she hadn’t known Jeff from Adam, but now he’s everywhere. It feels like every other day now he’s climbing into Chrissy’s passenger seat and they’re speeding away, not a Steve Harrington or Eddie Munson in sight.

Or they’re in the library doing the same mail pick-up that Chrissy and Steve do together. Once, Robin had even seen Jeff by her side as she’d dropped a note into Eddie’s locker, which might be the wildest part of the whole situation; Robin had been under the impression that he and Eddie were friends.

There’s some benefits to being invisible: no one notices her.

So, she’s got all these building blocks to the juiciest gossip in Hawkins High for probably decades, but, no matter how she stacks them together, she can’t make them into a picture she understands.

All she knows is this: Steve Harrington is up to something shady.

Robin’s got her eyes open and a mission of the heart. She’ll protect Chrissy with all she has, and if Steve gets caught in the crossfire? That’s fine with her.

***

Chrissy’s still all over Harrington. He doesn’t get it, can’t comprehend why someone who leaves him such lovely, lovely notes has stuck herself to that douche’s side.

Eddie doesn’t get it.

Is it the status bump? No, can’t be, even Eddie knows the guy’s fallen a few pegs down the ladder since whatever the hell had happened with Wheeler last year.

Maybe it’s the looks? He’s got that swoopy hair all the girls fawn over, and the features to back it up. But Chrissy’s never struck him as that shallow, no matter how hot the guy is.

Is it the money, the car, the nice clothes? What does Steve Harrington have that Eddie doesn’t?

Is it the way he leans up against lockers, smiling at every girl in his sight like they’re his whole world? The way he tucks a lock of hair behind their ears, eyes smoldering, touch gentle? Steve goddamn Harrington with his jockish good looks and sweeping charms.

He just—doesn’t get it.

He also doesn’t get why he hasn’t received a note in his locker for a couple days now, not since Eddie’d come up to her table in the cafeteria and kissed her hand.

Her nails had been painted a perfect pink, and when Eddie looked away to stare Harrington down, he’d noticed the guy had nail polish on, too: a bright yellow that would have suited him if it wasn’t chipped to hell.

It was such a small, incongruous detail, but it niggles at Eddie late into the night. It doesn’t fit with who Eddie knows Harrington to be.

It didn’t fit, and he’s tired of nothing fitting together the way it should, so he’s been avoiding Harrington like the plague.

So, when he catches Chrissy in a rare moment where Steve’s not loitering in her periphery, he approaches again, hands raised like, see here, I’m harmless!

She smiles at him, white teeth damn-near glinting where they peek out from behind her lips. Eddie’s reciting sonnets in his head.

“Miss Cunningham,” he says, bending over at the waist and bowing low as she laughs at him. “Would you give this lowly Dungeon Master the honor, nay the privilege, of accompanying him on his quest this Thursday?”

Chrissy’s head’s tilted to the side like an inquisitive dog as she asks, “in plain English?”

He bounces closer, pleased to have even gotten his foot in the door. “My Dungeons and Dragons club is starting a new campaign tomorrow,” he says. “Want to come play?” When she purses her lips instead of answering, he scrambles to continue. “Or even just watch?”

Chrissy’s lips are still pursed, but she’s nodding slowly, like she’s thinking about saying yes. “That might be fine,” she replies. “Where should I meet you?”

And that’s how he finds himself with Chrissy Cunningham sitting in at the next Hellfire session. Gareth’s awkward because he always is when there’s a pretty girl in his vicinity, but Jeff smiles and chats with her like they’re old friends. Doug doesn’t seem to care one way or another, too focused on getting the newest campaign started to care about an interloper.

It goes off without a hitch, Chrissy’s presence blending into the background. He forgets her entirely until the end of the session when she starts slinging questions at them, and Jeff starts patiently explaining what a modifier is, and how they know which dice to roll as Eddie packs up his supplies.

He’s got grand ideas about taking Chrissy home, had even cleaned out his van for it, but Chrissy was always destined to pop his ego.

“That was great, Eddie!” Chrissy cuts in, barely waiting for the party to finish celebrating to speak. “But, I’m already late to meet Steve, so I’ve got to go.”

“Uh,” Eddie says, staring at her retreating back, “okay.”

She turns back around right before she’s through the drama room door, still smiling as she calls, “see you guys next week!”

She’s going to see Harrington, the bane of Eddie’s current existence, but she did say it was great. No, she’d said Eddie was great.

Truly a mixed bag.

Eddie takes his time wrangling the boys out of the room and into his van, determined to hold onto the high of Chrissy Cunningham watching him DM—no way would he let Harrington of all people ruin his night.

***

She damn-near runs out of the drama room, lie leaving a bitter taste on her tongue—she’s not late to meet Steve, isn’t planning to see him at all.

It’s just, she knows what that gleam in a boy’s eyes means; Eddie was about to do something stupid. Ask her out, or try to flirt, or do something else both embarrassing and heart-crushing for Steve.

So, she’d done what she’s best at in uncomfortable situations: she’d lied.

Now, she’s just gotta get out of the school before anyone can call her on it.

The school’s eerily empty, the fluorescent lights only on in patchy segments, luring all the lingering students into the poorly-lit parking lot where Chrissy’s car waits. She just wants to get into her bed and wait until she can debrief with Steve in the morning.

She’s just twisted the key in the lock and begun pulling it open when a hand reaches past her and slams it closed. Chrissy jumps, fear coiling through her stomach and rapidly churning into anger. She turns, back to her car, ready to curse out Eddie or one of his other club members, but the words die unsaid in her throat.

It’s not Eddie; it’s Jason. His hand’s still slapped onto her door, keeping it closed, and in the dim light of the parking lot, his eyes are almost glowing. She wants to take a step back, but he’s effectively boxed her into the side of her own car.

“Are you serious, Chris?” he asks. The nickname sounds wrong in his mouth, all toxic and chopped up. Not at all like when Steve says it. “You really are hanging out with freaks now?”

“Jason, I—” Chrissy starts, hating the way her voice trembles.

“Are you sleeping with that freak now, too?” he demands, crowding farther into her space. “Harrington was one thing, but Munson?”

He says Eddie’s name like it’s a curse. She’s scared, still, but suddenly she’s furious that she wasted years of her life with this douche, that she’s still wasting time being afraid of him.

“He’s better than you’ll ever be,” she snarls, unsure if she means Steve or Eddie. It doesn’t matter, it’s true for both.

Without wasting another word on the jackass who’s made it his mission in life to make her feel small, Chrissy yanks her door open. It hits him in the face, sending him stumbling to the asphalt with a groan.

Even still, she rushes to slide into her car, ramming the key in and backing out without even checking her blind spots for unsuspecting pedestrians.

Jason’s just making his way back to his feet when she glances into her rear-view mirror before turning out of the parking lot and onto the street.

Her hands shake on the steering wheel making the car jerk about.

She doesn’t go home.

All the lights are on in the Harrington house, and she worries for a second that his parents are home for once before she sees the solitary car in the driveway. She parks behind it, taking the extra minute to line her car up perfectly parallel to it, hoping her hands will stop shaking by the time she’s done.

Steve’s waiting on the stoop by the time she makes it out of her car and up the driveway, hands still shaking with aftershocks of flight or fight. His arms are crossed, and he’s scowling down at her from his casual lean against the closed door.

“Will you come to Hellfire with me next Thursday?” she asks, voice wobbling around the request.

“Was it that bad?” Steve asks, scowl shifting into a teasing smile before she steps into the halo of the porch’s light and he catches sight of the expression on her face. “Are you okay?”

His hands are on her shoulders, warm and grounding against the chill that’s seeped into her skin. She reaches one of her hands up to brush the wetness from beneath her eyes. “Will you come?” she asks again, question firming up and sharpening now that she’s here, safe.

Steve’s hands squeeze, warm, warm, warm. “Course, Chris,” he replies, and she was right—it is better coming from his mouth. “Want to come in?”

She follows him into the house, curling herself up small in the corner of his couch, relieved when he sits close. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t rush her at all, just waits, patient the way Jason never was.

“You’re a great fake boyfriend, you know,” she says, smiling when he laughs and knocks their shoulders together.

“Well, as your fake boyfriend, do I need to kill Eddie?” he asks, and when she looks up from her knees, his eyes are almost shining with sincerity. “Because I will, you know.”

“I know,” she says, cheeks warming, not because she likes a boy, but because she has a friend, a real one who would pick her even over his crush. “But, Eddie was nice.”

Steve hums, slumping into her further. “So, who am I killing?”

“No one!” Chrissy replies, laughing just a little. Steve’s just like a dog with a bone; she’s always been a dog person. “Or Jason, maybe?”

“What?” Steve barks, all playfulness gone from his voice. “What the hell did he—”

“He didn’t do anything!” she rushes out, making space between their bodies so she can meet his heated gaze. “He just freaked me out.”

“But, he can’t—”

“But, you’re a good friend, and will come to Hellfire next week to keep it from happening again, right?”

Steve groans, slumping back into her and hiding his face in her hair. “You’re the worst,” he grumbles, only continuing when she pinches him hard right beneath his ribs. “But, fine! I’ll go!”

“Thank you,” Chrissy replies, glad she hadn’t gone home to recover alone.

Steve rubs his face against her head like the freak he secretly is. “Anytime.”

They stay there, bathed in the quiet of their shared companionship and the frankly alarming number of lights Steve has lighting up his entire house.

She’s almost dozed off, slumped into his side when Steve asks, “but, like, how was it?”

She laughs, body shaking with delight instead of fear this time as she replies, “Eddie Munson is such a nerd.”

PART 8

#koko's steddie secret admirer au #steddie #my fic

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cobaltperun · 7 months ago

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Tara Carpenter x G!pMasc!Fem!Reader (Masc like in Lost🤭)

Tara and R share a magical prom night together, dancing under the stars and stealing kisses in the moonlight as they celebrate their love and friendship.

Tara in a nice dress (You should decide what color she wears)

R wears a black tuxedo with black shirt underneath, R also gives T a big bouquet of... (you decide again)

Can I request smut at the end!?😭 like T gives R head then they have sex for the first time? Don't ask me where!

It's okay if you don't want to, still appreciate it! Thank you!

Moonlight Dance

Bottom Tara Carpenter x Top G!P Female Reader (Request) (SMUT - minors do not interact!)

Masterlist

Word count: 3.1k

The contrast of colorful flowers, white and red carnations and pink tulips, combined in a beautiful bouquet and you behind it, dressed in all black, an incredible tuxedo and a black shirt underneath fitting your form as if they were tailor-made for you made Tara swallow, hard. Damn, maybe you should just stay inside, but she was dressed up as well, wearing a rather cute, baby blue dress with open shoulders and back, and she was very curious about the surprise you prepared for her.

“You look beautiful,” you whispered, watching her in awe and Tara blushed, smiling shyly.

She placed a hand on yours and moved the flowers out of the way. “You too,” she got on her tiptoes and pulled you down into a kiss, her body fitting perfectly against yours. You tried to keep the kiss soft, tender, but she parted her lips, pressed her tongue against yours, demanding more, needing more. She groaned into the kiss, feeling your strong arm wrapping around her, your tongue against hers, as her fingers ran through your hair.

When you parted for air, she just hugged you, buried her face in the crook of your neck and sighed contently. You always made her feel loved, cherished, safe, since the two of you met, she’s been drawn to you. And the two of you would leave Woodsboro together, as soon as possible. Everything was almost ready.

And the first step? Having a prom night away from the school, alone, celebrating without the noise and crowd of everyone else graduating with the two of you. “We should probably get going,” you whispered, though you kept hugging her.

“One more minute,” she nuzzled closer to you and smiled as you just nodded.

It was longer than a minute, but neither of you complained, basking in each other’s presence. But she did eventually accept the flowers and left them in a vase inside her room. And then you led her to a rented car, opening the doors for her and bowing slightly. Tara laughed, it was a bit of a joke she actually started, as she held the doors of a coffee shop open for you the first time the two of you went out, even if it was just as friends back then. Since them it turned into a bit of a ritual, where either one of you would hold the doors for the other.

“Thanks,” she still said as you closed the doors when she sat down.

“Always,” you said and leaned through the open window to kiss her quickly.

The drive was pleasant, and luckily not too long, about half an hour until you reached a secluded area. Tara was speechless, taking the beauty around her in. Clear, starry skies, with moonlight casting a magnificent reflection on the lake. And the trees around it, almost looking like they were dancing in the light breeze. And the clearing you took her to, right next to the lake looked like it was framed by it all. You took a bag from the backseat and offered her your hand. And of course, Tara took your hand, letting you lead her to the middle of the clearing. You lowered the bag and took out a music player. You let the music fill the silence and the two of you began dancing to the tune, swaying lightly in each other’s arms.

Tara couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she occasionally lifted her head up and kissed you, just soft, gentle kisses, under the moonlight. The time became the least important thing in the world, all that mattered was this moment, the two of you, cherishing your love, celebrating it and the future ahead of you.

“I love you so, so much, Y/N,” she told you as she looked you in the eyes.

“I love you too, Tara,” you lifted her up, easily, yet with gentleness no one but her got to feel. You were gentle with other people as well, but Tara just pushed that gentleness to a whole new level, and she adored that wholeheartedly.

Eventually the night did have to come to an end, and you drove her back to her house. “Come on in,” she basically dragged you inside, both of you still laughing, too happy to contain it, especially since there was no reason to hold back. She had the house to herself. As she closed the doors behind her she tugged on your hand. She leaned against the doors as the two of you kissed, pulling you closer to her. Gentle kisses giving way to passion as she felt your hands holding on to her hips, both of you worked up and finally in the privacy of her home.

“Y/N,” she sighed, leaning her head back with a moan as your lips trailed a path from her chin to the side of her neck, sucking slightly. You gave her your tuxedo jacket, since it was a bit chilly outside by the time you were about to head home and she grabbed onto your collar, unbuttoning the first couple of buttons of your shirt. “Fuck, I need you,” she was desperate for you, desperate to feel all of you.

You pulled back, looking her in the eyes. “You sure?” you asked her tenderly, leaving no doubt in her mind that if she said she wasn’t sure, or that she wanted to stop, now, or at any point that you’d stop in an instant.

She cupped your cheek. “If you’re ready, I’m ready,” she needed you, but she would wait as long as she had to, until both of you were completely sure and ready to take that step.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, the nerves nearly getting the better of you. Was this good enough for Tara’s first time? Was it special enough? You worried about that, but you also knew there was no way to create an absolutely perfect circumstances for your first time together. Knowing that did little to help you calm down, but you knew you loved her, that you wanted and needed her. “I love you,” you said, kissing her once more as she kissed you back, and you heard the front doors being locked before she jumped into your arms.

“I love you too,” she told you, a bit breathless, and with a dark blush covering her beautiful face. And that was all you needed to hear as you went up the stairs to her room. And there, in her room, lit only by moonlight you were ready to make love for the very first time.

Your jacket fell off her shoulder as you lowered her down on the bed, kissing her bare shoulders as she unbuttoned your shirt and pulled it off of you. You felt her hands trembling as she touched you, exploring your upper body and you felt the same as you tugged the dress down, releasing her beautiful breasts.

“Shit, Baby,” she moaned as you kissed her nipple, just teasing the already hard and sensitive bud before wrapping your lips around it. It was a familiar territory, hot make out session where you’d both be naked from waist up, you just never took it further. She pushed the dress lower, all the way to her hips and you helped her get it off the rest of the way, stripping her down to just her panties.

And you pulled back, watching her with unconcealed lust in your eyes as your pants got a bit too tight for comfort.

“Y/N,” Tara sat up, the tip of your finger sliding down from your neck, between your breasts to your pants, where she hooked it around your belt loop. “Let me have some fun and then this,” her other hand slid down her body, to her panties, and she pushed them aside, revealing her already slightly wet pussy. Tara gasped, spreading her lips with her fingers. “-is all yours,” she promised and guided you until you were sitting on the edge of her bed.

You grinned and pulled her onto your lap and she grinned back, pressing her body against yours. She kissed your neck, hands roaming all over your body, your sides, your back, your breasts, as she grinded against you. “Oh,” she sighed as you placed your hands on her hips and pushed her lower, until her pussy was grinding on the bulge in your pants. “Fuck, you’re hard,” she hissed, and you could feel her wetness slowly seeping through her panties onto your pants.

“Tara,” you leaned your head back, breathing heavily as she dragged her lower lip to your ear and bit gently. “Damn, you’re wet,” you couldn’t hold back, you slipped one of your hands into her panties from behind, the tips of your fingers finding her pussy and rubbing gently making her gasp in your ear.

“Uh, uh, right there!” she pushed against your fingers, clinging to your shoulders and kissing you, deeply, passionately, her tongue deep inside your mouth as you sucked on it. You kept kissing like that, the tips of two of your fingers teasing her entrance as your other hand moved up to her back. Your kisses grew shorter, the need for air getting stronger as your arousal built up until Tara surprised you and dropped to her knees.

She unzipped your pants and you raised your hips, letting her pull them down along with your boxers and the relief was immediate as your hard cock sprung free. Tara got comfortable between your legs and with a teasing look in her eyes dragged her tongue up your shaft.

Your breath hitched as you looked at her, your cock throbbing as she teased you, taking her time with each lick, her fingers caressing the other side of it. You clenched your fists around the sheets and closed your eyes. “Baby,” Tara moaned, right against the tip of your cock and placed her free hand on top of yours. “Here,” she brought one of your hands closer to her and kissed your palm before sucking your thumb in her mouth.

You had no idea how you didn’t cum right then and there, with Tara stroking your cock, rubbing the tip with her thumb each time she reached the top and looking at you like with your thumb in her mouth and a string of saliva dripping from the corner of her lips. You moved your hand to the back of her head, your thumb gently caressing her cheek as she smiled and swirled her tongue around the tip of your cock before taking several inches into her mouth.

Tara moaned, the vibrations making you clench your jaw as she stroked the part of your cock she wasn’t sucking on. She watched you, your face, your eyes, pupils blown and a lustful haze clearly visible in them. She listed to your moans, some louder, some more restrained, and she let her free hand touch and bit of your muscular body, burning the feel of your muscles flexing under her touch and relaxing into her memory. “Cum for me, Y/N,” she said as she released your cock from her mouth, swallowing a bit of your precum before she continued sucking on your hard cock.

“Just a bit more,” you hissed, your fingers in her hair twitching, you weren’t clenching your fist in her hair, or pushing her lower on your cock, you just held your hand there, gentle, loving, consumed by passion as you forced your hips to stay still instead of fucking her mouth. She felt your entire body tensing. “Tara, I’m about to cum,” you told her, and she just hummed, swallowing it when you came a few moments later while moaning her name.

She kissed the tip of your cock and got up pushing you to lie down on the bed as she kissed your abs, between your breasts, up to your neck and finally pressed her forehead against yours while you were catching your breath. “I can’t wait to have that huge cock deep inside me,” she whispered in your ear, grinning when she felt it twitching against her thigh. “Does it turn you on, that we are each other’s first?” she hummed, only to squeal happily when you abruptly switched positions.

“Not as much as,” you spread her legs and slid your finger through her folds only to lift them up and show her just how wet her pussy made them. “being your second, third, tenth,” you sucked your fingers clean and she wrapped her legs around your back as you began lavishing her body I kisses and caresses. Your hands massaging, squeezing, gliding over her sides and occasionally moving to her breasts, tracing circles on her areola but avoiding her nipple. “Your hundredth time and every time after that,” you nibbled on her breast, your teeth teasingly nipping her sensitive nipple and she cried out, her pussy quickly getting even wetter than before.

You kept playing with her, bringing her so close to her orgasm without touching her pussy again, just by focusing on the rest of her body, on her breasts, on her neck, her thighs, her lower back. “Lower, please,” she pleaded, needing the release only you could grant her.

And you did, she felt you smirking as you slid her drenched panties down and gently spread her pussy so you could lick her from her opening all the way to her clit. Tara cried out, her hands immediately going to your head and pulling you closer as her hips rocked against your tongue. “Y/N, Y/N, ugh, oh fuck!” she exclaimed, her head falling back onto her pillow as you pushed two fingers inside her all the while licking her exposed clit. And then you began sucking on it and she was gone, completely at the mercy of an orgasm she couldn’t stop even if she went crazy and wanted to stop it.

Tara cried out, her pussy clenching around your fingers, her hips twitching as she came, and you released her clit to lick her gushing pussy. “You’re so good for me, Tara,” you praised her, watching as her walls clenched around nothing the moment you pulled your fingers out. You were hard once again, but you wanted to give her time to recover.

“Nightstand to your left, bottom drawer, beneath a notebook,” she gasped, her breasts rising and falling with each deep breath she took. And you nodded, following her instructions and finding condoms there. “I knew this would happen sooner or later,” she grinned as you sent her a teasing smile and put a condom on your cock. You found a bottle of lube and just to make it as pleasant as possible for Tara you applied a bit of extra lube to the condom.

You kissed her on the lips and put a pillow beneath her lower back as she hugged you tightly. “I’m ready, take me,” she assured you as you rub the tip of your cock against her pussy before slowly pushing into her. Her pussy spread around you, engulfing you in her warmth and you leaned your forehead against Tara’s shoulder while her fingers dug into your back.

“Tell me if it hurts,” you said and felt her nodding. You pulled back a bit then pushed further inside her, repeating the process a few times, each time pausing and letting her adjust. And you never felt her reacting in pain, in fact, she kissed your cheek several times, humming as you pushed into her completely.

“So big,” she whispered, more to herself than to you as you just remained like that, waiting for Tara to get used to feeling your entire cock inside of her. “You can move,” she encouraged you. And you did, you began slow and gentle, steady as she wrapped her legs around you and kissed you, her mouth opening as your tongue slipped inside. Tara moaned, slowly starting to meet your thrusts.

“So damn tight,” you groaned, feeling her pussy gripping your cock, and you were thankful she was as wet as she was. The sound of your thrusts, her wet pussy taking your cock, her moans and whimpers right next to your ear, her bed creaking beneath the two of you, you were getting lost in it. You dared to open your eyes and pushed slightly away from her, your bodies covered in a thin layer of sweat and glistening in moonlight, her flushed cheeks, breasts bouncing slightly with each thrust. She was mesmerizing, her lips swollen from countless kisses, soft and rough, you shared ever since you picked her up hours ago. Her lipstick smeared, hair completely disheveled, and she looked so beautiful, just taking your cock.

And as captivated by her beauty as you were, you sped up, thrusting harder into her, going faster and spurring Tara to moan louder. “Just like that!” she whimpered, crying out as you lowered your hand down and began rubbing her clit with your thumb. You fucked her just like that, hard and fast for several minutes, her pussy squeezing you mercilessly. “Y/N!” she shouted your name, her back arching as she came again, gushing around you, and you had to bite your tongue to hold back just for a bit longer. Just so you could fuck her through her orgasm. You kept thrusting into her, slower, gentler now that she came that hard, just enough to make her feel that good for a bit longer, and then you could no longer hold back, and you pulled out, stroking your cock a few times and filling the condom up.

You dropped down next to Tara and chuckled as she snuggled close to you. “You were amazing,” you kissed the top of her head, exhaustion slowly creeping up to you.

“You too, what was your favorite part?” she asked, just as tired as you were.

“The part when we were making love,” you grinned, and it only widened when she jokingly smacked you on the abs.

“That was all of it,” she pouted, prompting you to peck her on her lips.

“Yours?” you asked, laughing as she blushed and looked down.

“All of it as well,” she admitted sheepishly, grinning as you began laughing even harder.

“See,” you hugged her close and pulled her covers over the two of you. “Let’s just rest for a few minutes,” you sighed, too content to move right away.

“Yeah,” Tara yawned, already close to falling asleep in your arms.

A/N: Right... I kinda feel like I should have given more time to fluff 🤣🤣🤣

#tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader #g!p reader #top reader #bottom tara carpenter #perunrequests

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appleblueberry-pie · 9 months ago

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I NEED MORE YANDERE e42 MILES!!!!

This is a list of things he's done without your knowledge.

"Sneaked" two thousand dollars into your savings account. Best part about this is you actually never did find out that he did this. You just thought you were finally becoming financially responsible.

Fixed your TV remote 2 times.

Bought you more boxes of ramen.

Learned to make your favorite dessert.

Drove your ex's car off of a cliff

Drove your ex's girlfriend's car off of a cliff

Got on your teacher's good side for you.

Started doing calisthenics

Became pescatarian

Stopped drinking energy drinks and instead became a tea-drinker

Donated to 5 animal shelters and volunteered to help feed the homeless(one of the short programs he joined at school)

Broke 3 ribs and repaired

Got stabbed and repaired

Illegally traded with dominating gangs in Brooklyn

Illegally helped transport medicine inside of hospitals due to dominating gangs in Brooklyn

Tried on shoes he wanted to get for you to see if they'd be comfortable, understanding that people would think he's flaming for doing so.

Tried on earrings he wanted to get for you, thinking if it looked good on him, it would definitely look good on you, understanding that people would think he's flaming for doing so.

Same thing with perfume.

Got scared of you when you interrogated him for smelling like the new perfume he just bought you.

Whispers compliments to you when you sleep on his shoulder while y'all take the train.

Screamed like a lil girl when he picked up a potted plant from a flower shop, hoping to get you a succulent, and a slug dropped from the crevice of the pottery, plopped onto his hand, heavy, cold, and slimy.

Listens to all Ariana Grande albums

Annually kidnaps all boys who he knew premeditated asking you to prom, knowing your his, and drops them off by a random lake in the dead of night. Tied up, taped mouth, lightly drugged, and confused.

Attempted to give up being tender-headed so his mama could do his hair in that cool ass pattern he knew you wouldn't be able to stop admiring. It didn't work, but the result definitely made you happy.

Bombed 2 drug major illegal drug factories. Probably one of the main reasons why the crime underworld hates him.

Sketched over 40 different ways the wedding ring he plans to give you will look.

Finished 2 big notebooks that are just full of rants and drawings of you. He's halfway through his 3rd one.

Has a pinterest board just like yours that is full of clothing and room aesthetics that you like. Plans to make most of them a reality for you.

Kicks his feet at ur messages.

#miles morales #earth 42 miles fluff #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #reader #yandere character #across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman #yandere miles morales #yandere earth 42 miles morales x reader #yandere earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42

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mmhcs · 6 months ago

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The Big Dance (Prom AU)

Summary: Inspired by Chance the Rapper's 2019 album The Big Day (if you've listened to it, please tell me your favorite song off the album in the comments!).

Features: Gender-neutral reader, no mentions of reader's gender

Warnings: Mentions of grief and missing a loved one

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Miles Morales likes to consider himself brave.

Throughout the past four years, he's done a lot of brave things—especially during his career as Spiderman.

For one, he leaped off a skyscraper and into raging traffic. He was half-confident in himself, but he did it anyway.

And then there was that time when he followed Gwen into the portal, helped Pavitr and Gwen save Mumbhattan from collapse.

Oh, and when he challenged Miguel O'Hara about his understanding of the Multiverse. That was scary. But Miles did it and he managed to survive.

Point is yes, Miles Morales considers himself to be a very brave person.

Which is why he is so confused as to why he's struggling to simply even imagine asking you the question that has been lingering on his mind since September.

"Dude," Ganke says, looking away from his phone screen. "Just ask. You've been crushing for so long that these feelings might actually crush you."

Miles knows he's caught now. For the past few months, he's been casually mentioning that he wants to ask you to prom. And for the past few months, Ganke has only listened to Miles' ramblings with nothing more than one-word responses and nods that indicate his support and agreement. It's part of the reason why Miles loves to talk to him especially about this; in infinite universes full of people who demand so much and always want an answer, Ganke is the person that listens and understands.

Until now, though.

Ganke looking up from his screen is very rare. But when it does happen, it means that he's serious and is either about to give Miles some advice or tell him how stupid the decisions he makes are.

"I know, I know," Miles says as Ganke opens his mouth to say something else. He begins to pace back and forth, spouting all the possible things that he feels his best friend is about to say. "Miles, the world's not gonna end if you get rejected! Miles, we're still gonna go to Prom and turn up either way. Don't worry, man!"

"Okay, first of all, I do not sound like that," Ganke crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. "And secondly, did you just say that we're gonna 'turn up'? I swear, sometimes you act like someone's twenty-six year old uncle,"

Miles pauses his pacing. "What? I think it sounds cool. Is that not what we say today?"

"No, Miles, that's not what we say." Ganke sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Anyways, look, man, you've been talking about asking (Y/N) to Prom literally all year now. I think you should do it—you two are always together—but I can't make the decision for you. If you want to do it, do it. If you don't, that's sad but Prom is gonna happen either way. All I'm saying is don't let fear stop hold you back."

With that, Ganke turns back to gaming.

Miles stands there, letting his words sink in.

Ganke is right.

If Miles hadn't jumped off of that skyscraper, he probably would have gone home and stuff his suit so far back in his closet that he would have thought it to be an old Halloween costume the next time he pulled it out. If he hadn't stood up to Miguel, then his father would have died. And, if Miles doesn't ask you to the prom, then he could possibly miss out on one of the best nights of his life—and regret it.

"Yeah," Miles says to himself, slowly beginning to nod his head.

He will ask you to Prom. And either way—whether you say yes or not—he'll walk into the venue and end his high school career knowing that he finally did one of things that he's been wanting to do for the past four years.

"Yeah!" Miles yells now, wanting Ganke to hear. "You're right, Ganke! I'm gonna ask (Y/N) to Prom!"

"Knew you'd do the right thing," Ganke's tone is slow and lackadaisical once more and his concentration is still on his video game. But Miles knew that his friend was being sincere.

"I'm gonna go—"

"Score!" Ganke yells as his player in the game dunks a basketball into the hoop.

"Exactly!" Miles is nodding frantically now, hyping himself up. Before he has room to further question himself, he opens the door and says, "See 'ya, Ganke! Don't wait up!"

"Uh-huh."

And with that, the door to their shared dorm closes and Miles sprints through the halls of Visions Academy, with a mission (and no plan).

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"Okay, let's see,"

Miles opens his contact list and begins to scan through the potential givers of advice that he could do.

First up was his dad, of course. That man, as square as he is, was able to pull his mother. And credit has to be given where credit is due, Miles supposes.

Second is Peter B. Parker. Though when he and Miles met, things with MJ were less-than-ideal, Peter managed to change, win her back, and now they have a baby together! You have to possess some pretty good game to pull that off.

Third was...everyone else.

Of course, there are a million and one other people besides his father and Peter B. that Miles can ask for advice but those are the first two options that came to his mind and he's kind of stressed for time.

Smiling, Miles goes to click on the contact icon for his father. He's about to press the 'call' button when he remembers Jefferson's words from the last time that Miles called him at work.

"Miles, son, I love you—I really do. You're my son and I'm always here for you. But please, don't call me at work unless it's an emergency. And, for reference, not knowing where the Cheez-Its are is not an emergency. I'm talking when lives or grades are in danger and your world is ending—that's when you call me!"

Miles makes a face.

Technically this is an emergency. The trajectory of his life could be changed. Who knows? Maybe he and you would get married someday. Maybe you two are destined to be and if he doesn't ask you to Prom then he'll have screwed up the positive trajectory and you two will be cursed to live miserable, loveless lives.

Miles inhales sharply at the thought.

Yeah, he's calling.

"Hello?" Jefferson picks up on the first ring. "Miles, what's up?"

"Hey, Dad," Miles says the words slowly and awkwardly, not knowing how to proceed. "I, uh, need your help with something."

A sigh comes from the other side of the line. "Miles, if you're calling to ask me where the fish crackers are, I swear, it's gonna be me and you boy—"

"No, no, Dad, it's not that!" Miles waves his hands as he speaks as if Jefferson could see him. "It's—I'm planning on asking someone to the prom and I wanted your advice on how I should—"

"Oh, is this your little friend that you met freshman year?" Jefferson asks sounding ten times happier and calmer than a second ago.

"Yeah," Miles nods, glad that his father remembers you but also impatient. "I was just wondering if you could give me some advice considering that you're married and made me—"

"Son, while I would love to give you some advice right now, there's a ten-thirty that we need to take of down here. Can this wait till I get home?"

Miles moves the phone away from him so that his father won't hear the deep sigh threatening to spill out of him.

Ten-thirty. Great. And people are probably going to expect Spiderman to handle that, too.

"Yeah, Dad, it can wait." Miles says, trying his best not to make his disappointment evident. "I hope everyone's okay down there. I'll probably swing by in a second."

"Thanks, son," Jefferson sighs into the phone and Miles doesn't know if it's from stress about the situation or because he too is sharing in his son's frustration of not being able to this needed conversation. "I love you. Be careful."

"Love you too, Dad. See you soon."

Miles hangs up the phone and pushes his hands against his eyes.

That didn't go as planned.

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After swinging by the robbery, Miles decided to head to the Spider Society in order to find Peter.

He expected it to be a challenging task, considering that Peter is always with Mayday and Mayday is always everywhere, but it may be possible that after his failed conversation with his father, today decided to cut him some slack because Miles didn't have to search for long before he found Peter (and Mayday) sitting at a table in the cafeteria, eating lunch.

"Oh, so you want love advice?" Peter asks in between chewing his fries. "I got 'ya, kid. You came to the right place."

Miles sits across the table, his eagerness growing by the second.

"Okay, first thing's first: You gotta be calm. Cool and collected. Which, admittedly, you have a hard time with. So I'd start there."

A burn, but advice nonetheles.

"Okay, well, what about what I'm supposed to say?" Miles urges. "Do you have any tips on that?"

Peter scrunches his face and look up at the ceiling for a moment, thinking. He hums all the while, causing Miles to inch further in his seat until he’s hovering over the edge of the chair.

"No." Peter finally says at last, picking up another French fry. "But I did write a speech for MJ when I first asked her out. I rehearsed everything that I wanted to say in mirror at least fifty times until it stuck. It was absolutely worth it to see the smile on her face when I finally said it in-person. And plus, I still remember each and every word to this day. So maybe you can try something like that."

Miles nods frantically again.

Should he be taking notes? He feels like he should.

"Okay, and what about—"

"Peter!"

Before any of the two could blink, Miguel O'Hara appears behind Peter, his somber aura casting a dark cloud over the previous atmosphere of the conversation.

"Hey, Miguel!" Peter says cheerily. "I'm helping Miles ask his crush out to the prom. Wanna join in? Give some advice to the youngins—"

"Peter, I know ate the empanada in my office from earlier." Miguel tells him so serious and gravely as if Peter had done something far worse.

"Oh, right, that!" Peter perks up and snaps a finger, remembering. "Well, you see, Mayday is teething and we were both hungry so without thinking, I may have—"

"Come with me."

"What?"

"I said come with me."

"Why? Where are you taking me?"

"You're going to get me another empanada."

If it wasn't Miguel speaking, Miles would be on the floor laughing. But because it is Miguel and because Miguel is interrupting a very important moment, Miles only stares as the interaction progresses, with Miguel eventually picking up Peter by the shoulder to get him to stand up. He then ushers Peter to the food line but not before looking back at Miles, a bit apologetically.

"You're smart, you can figure this out, kid," he says. "Do what feels best. Be yourself."

Miles only stares in disbelief as Miguel marches back to his office but not before telling Peter to bring him the empanada and not eat it.

For what feels like the thousandth time today, Miles sighs with disappointment and frustration.

Seriously?

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"Hey, Uncle Aaron,"

Miles sighs as he plops himself in front of the gravestone, gleaming thanks to the recent rainstorm that they had the other day.

"How are you? I'm stressed."

Miles wastes no time explaining his predicament to his uncle. He starts from the very beginning, telling him how he met you freshman year but never got the chance to introduce you two to each other, how your friendship has grown stronger over the years and how and when he realized that he had feelings for you.

"...And I've been trying all day to get some advice but it just seems like everyone's too busy. And, of course, no one's more of a love guru than you were."

Thugh his last sentence is a joke, Miles's face falls.

Were.

"I miss you, man. Some days it's hard to keep going without you. But I do. I wish that you were here so that you could give me some advice. You would've been the first person that I went to..."

Miles inhales deeply.

No, he's not going to cry—this isn't meant to be a sad visit. He's just here to get some things off his chest.

"But anyway, I got into Princeton!" A proud smile creeps up onto his face. "Yep! Gonna be majoring in Physics! Dad and Mami have warmed up to the idea of me going away and now Mami can't stop telling everyone about her son, the Ivy League scholar!"

Miles continues on, talking and updating his uncle about his life until he notices the sun beginning to set. Then, reluctantly, he days up his uncle's gravestone one last time before heading home.

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Hey son gonna be home late 4 dinner.

Still gonna talk tho.

Miles groans as he rereads his dad's texts over and over again.

At this rate, his promposal is going to be an absolute failure.

Miles flops back onto his bed with a defeated sigh.

"Miles?" Rio knocks on his door gently even though there is already a wide enough crack for it to be considered open. "¿Qué te paso?"

"It's nothing, Mami," Miles mumbles, not even bothering to hide the sadness in his voice. "It's just been a rough day."

"A rough day?" Rio frowns. She hates seeing her son like this. Despite all of Miles' moments, he's a good kid. And he's her kid nonetheless. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Miles nods and in an instant Rio is at his side. She sits down on his bed (which is made for once) and begins to gently card her finger through his hair.

"Ay, when was the last time you got a haircut?" Rio asks, trying to lighten the mood. "Are you trying to copy your multidimensional twin or something? You can't show up to the prom looking like this!"

Though it's a joke, the comment elicits another groan from Miles.

"Is this what this whole mood is about?" Rio asks, gesticulating to her son's defeated position. "The prom?"

Miles only nods in confirmation, the action rustling his bedsheets.

"Oh, Miles," Rio coos, bringing her son's head into her lap, "why didn't you say anything, mijo?"

"I did say something!"

Miles's hands shoot up in the air and one narrowly misses Rio's chin. She gives him an icy glares to which he apologizes.

"Sorry—I'm sorry," Miles sighs. He didn't mean to; it's just been a really frustrating day. Feeling like nobody has time for him and that he no one's priority.

"It's just that this is important, you know?" He huffs, running his own hand through his. "And it feels like no one around me cares! And I know it's not true—everyone's just really busy—but I need someone to help me. Someone to be my own Spiderman for a bit. Just someone to care."

Rio looks down at her son fondly. Her heart feels as though it's about to split in two. She wants to cry because her baby boy has grown into a young man with such an ability to articulate his feelings. But she also wants to cry because her baby feels alone—and he never should. Not while she's around.

"Oh, Miles, I'm so sorry about your day and that no one was around to help you, mijo," Now Rio's fingertips begin to ghost across his right temple. "But I'm here now and I care so please, tell me what's on your mind."

And so he does.

For the umpteenth time today, Miles starts from the very beginning and talks about you, how you guys met, how he realized that he has feelings for you and, of course, how he's been wanting to ask you to prom for a while now.

All the while, Rio listens and nods intently, smiles when it's appropriate, and tries to keep herself from happy crying at the young man before her.

"I think that it’s beautiful that you're putting so much thought into this proposal, Miles," Rio begins when it's finally her turn to speak. "But the truth is that no one can tell you how to plan the perfect promposal. Not me, not your father, not Peter nor Miguel. Only you know the person so deeply and intimately. Everything that we tell you to do should be taken into consideration, not as a fact. Only you know how this person so deeply and how your relationship functions. Use that to your advantage, mijo. You have a creative mind; let it shine and take the lead. Because you can say the same standard 'te amo' like everyone else does but it's how you say it that counts."

There's a beat of silence as Miles processes everything that his mother just said.

And then it clicks.

He knows what he's going to.

"Yeah," he says once more to himself. "Yeah, I know what I'm gonna do!"

Rio smiles. "You got it, mijo?"

"Yeah, yeah, I do, Mami!" Miles exclaims with a little laugh. He jumps up and wraps his arms around his mother for a tight hug. "Thank you, Mami! ¡Te amo mucho! You always know what to say!"

"My pleasure, mijo,"

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A week later, you and Miles are walking through the empty hallways of Vision's Academy hand-in-hand.

It's something that you two don't normally do but with this scavenger hunt that Miles has planned for you, you think it best that he guides you before you end up somewhere that you're not supposed to be.

"Okay, and now we reach the cafeteria," Miles says, gesturing to the grand, dimly-lit space. "A hint for your next clue: it involves us all those years ago on that fateful day that you discovered that I could turn invisible."

To anyone else, this would be a puzzling riddle. But you've grown to know Miles—all parts and aspects of him—throughout these four years. And so, the memory comes easily to you.

"Oh my gosh!" you scream, remembering. "It was that day when you kept hyperventilating after that Chem test!"

"Ding-ding-ding! Correct!"

You laugh looking back at it now. Miles was so nervous because was convinced that he had gotten a B on that test—the last one of the quarter—and was worried that he would end up with a B+ on his report card—a grade unacceptable for both Princeton and his parents who expected him to maintain that A+ that he had recieved last report card. The poor boy kept turning invisible every other breath. You couldn't believe it. So, once he was calm, you asked him to sneak you a few extra chicken tenders from the cafeteria line just to male sure that you weren't going crazy.

You look around the cafeteria for a moment before spotting something on the lunch line. You rush over to it, only to be greeted with steaming hot chicken tenders (how? You don't know.) and a note in the center.

"Chicken tenders almost as hot as you," you read, your words faltering a bit towards the end.

You had your suspicions about this scavenger hunt of Miles' but you never thought that there was a possibility of them being true.

Was this it? Were you finally going to hear him say that he liked you?

"And now on to the art room!" Miles urges. You must give him a look because he adds, "You can bring the chicken tenders too, don't worry."

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Maybe the walk to the art room is longer than you thought or maybe you're just hungrier than you thought because by the time the two of you make it into the hallway containing the classroom, you're down to two chicken tenders.

"Okay, who wants to play Guess What’s Behind This Door?" Miles asks nervously. He tries to play it off as much as he can but he can't help it—not when you two have gotten to this point in your adventure.

"Is it a snake?" you ask dumbly, taking another bite of your second-to-lst chicken tender. You have a feeling about what’s behind the door but you don't want to get your hopes up.

"No."

"A box full of puppies and kittens?"

"Nope."

"More food?"

"Nuh-uh."

Okay, well that was kind of disappointing.

You take a moment, feigning thinking.

"Is it...a promposal?"

At this, Miles' eyes widen. He swears, for a moment his heart stops. And then it starts beating again—and rapidly so—when he sees the shy yet hopeful look on your face.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," he says, opening the door.

To his luck, the promposal still does surprise you. So much so that your last chicken falls out of your mouth as your jaw drops from shock.

Displayed all around the room are photos, paintings, paintings, and props—memories of your friendship. And in the center of the room is a painting that reads Will You Go To Prom With Me?

You've always known that Miles enjoys art, so much so to the point that he could create his own museum. But you never imagined that he feels that same level of passion with you.

"Everything in here is a collection of you and me and the memories that we've made together," Miles begins. He's speaking slowly and putting extra emphasis on properly annunciating his words—both for his and your sake.

"Everything on this scavenger hunt was, really. Because every time when I'm with you, that's what we do: we make unforgettable memories to look back on and I—" Miles pauses now, searching for words. He'd rehearsed this speech a thousand times and yet he still managed to veer off course. Dammit.

You look at Miles intently but you give him time to collect his thoughts. It’s not easy to do this, as much as you would like to think so. If it was then you would have told him how you feel a long time ago.

"What I'm trying to say is that I like you!" Miles finally says. "I think that you're amazing and wonderful and I know that this may seem sudden but I know—I've known that you were the person that I wanted to be my date—and date, if you're up for all of this—for a long time. So, this is all a really long way to say will you go to Prom with me?"

"Yes!"

You barely let Miles finish his last word before you say it. You spin around, taking everything in, stopping when you reach Miles.

Both of you stare at each other as if it's the first time you're meeting.

And, in some regard, it is. This is the first time that you two are exposing such a raw, vulnerable side to each other and you both can't help but stare in awe at the sheer beauty radiating off of the other person at this moment.

"Hey." Miles says sheepishly.

"Hi." You return the awkward tone.

Before you can think, you close the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips to his. Shocked at first, Miles quickly melts into it, his bodying visibly relaxing as his hands move down to your waist, pulling you closer.

The two of you stay like that for a while and when you both pull back, you're both a bit red and nervous to look into each other's once more.

Best promposal ever.

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A/N: Okay, that's enough writing for one year. See y'all in 2025! (H/jk)

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seeingivy · 10 months ago

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the moms

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

“so was it good?”

you shove sammy in the side.

“i don’t have sex and tell, samantha.” you respond, exaggerating every last syllable.

sammy sticks her tongue out to you in response, before handing you the fork. she was the messiest eater you knew, possibly even worse than yuuji, and she had all but demolished the layers of the triple chocolate cake that the two of you were sharing.

“would it kill you to eat this like a normal person?”

“dude, just tell me. this is the fun part about having sex!”

“what? gossiping about it after?” you ask.

“obviously.”

you roll your eyes, before crossing your arms over your chest.

“well, why don’t you gossip first? you’ve had more sex than i have.”

“okay, fine. the first time i had sex it was after prom at some random house party. your turn!”

you give her a glare, which she responds to with a glimmering smile, before gesturing for you to take your turn. that wasn’t the answer you were hoping for when you asked that.

“well, i made dinner before he came. and he was like…doing the whole teasing thing because he always makes us dinner and not the other way around.”

“well, i’m shocked you didn’t chop your own hand off during the process.”

“shut up. anyways, i like initiated it by just giving him the condom.”

sammy nearly chokes on her bite of the cake.

“huh?”

“i just like put it on the table. then he was like going on about how he should be buying the condoms and not me and all that. and even after, he was going off about birth control and plan b and he can buy this one or that one for me and –”

“as he should. i’d come skin him alive if he didn’t.”

“yeah but, i just hate when he offers up him money to me sometimes. he won’t let me pay rent, he like so casually offered to pay for grad school if i have to apply again and -”

“you won’t have to apply again.”

you shoot her a warning glance, before continuing.

“i just feel bad. it reminds me a lot of how much mom probably has to pay them back and hasn’t yet. i’ll feel like i’m doing the same thing to him even though he said it doesn’t really matter because i’ll make more money than him down the line and pay him back.”

sammy pauses.

“i get what you mean. and it’s not his fault, but maybe he just doesn’t get that…that it’s such a big thing he’s giving away. and you are his girlfriend and you do mean the world to him, but it’s not…”

“it’s just too much money. i don’t have something liek that to really offer him. i know it’s an investment in me and that he believes in me and that…that i could eventually pay him back, but i just can’t do that i…i just –”

“well you won’t have to, because you’re going to get in. and if you don’t get in, i will help you apply again. i have a job and you’re my sister.”

you glare at her.

“i’m serious, y/n. you’re my responsibility and…and you shouldn’t feel bad taking my money to do it. it’s only because i know how strapped you are for money. i know that you’ll really mean to pay it back.”

“i will pay it all back, though. like the first second i can, i’m going to –”

sammy leans forward, placing both of her hands on your shoulder and squeezing hard. it’s an almost silly smile that she gives you – and it’s almost like you can see seven year old sammy coming up to the surface.

“relax. i know you will. and i’ll be waiting for it.”

you swallow hard.

“okay fine. fine, fine. you can help me if it gets to that.”

“okay enough boring talk. was it hot? did you actually orgasm?” sammy asks.

you curl your nose up in disgust.

“nice segway.” you deadpan.

“cmon. he’s hot! i know it was good.”

you sigh.

“yes, it was hot. and yes, i did orgasm. twice.”

sammy always been one for the theatrics. and she’s never one to disappoint – because she’s dramatically clutching her chest and making such shocked faces that it makes you laugh.

“not one but TWO?”

you can’t help but smile as she continues her spiel of dramatics and that silent bit of pride – that sukuna was a caring enough partner to actually care about you rather than just himself – simmers up.

“who was the dom? is he into foreplay? oh…oh did he like the outfit? i bet he probably lost his mind.”

“him, obviously. but he said that i’m a brat. and yeah he is into it, but he’s kind of always been like that. and he accidentally ripped it because he got too excited but he offered to get me another one and then added that i need lingerie in every existing color on the color spectrum so…”

“what a dick! i paid for that. and you looked great in it.”

you reach forward, just close enough where you can wrap your arms around her neck. you can hear her struggling a little, an irritated string of noises coming out of her mouth before you let go.

“what’s your problem?”

“i just felt really appreciative of you for a second there.”

sammy gives you a disgusted look, before cupping the bottom of your chin in her hand.

“you’re gross, y/n.”

“you love it!”

sammy gives you one last glare, before sliding a little pink box over to the side. you shoot her a confused look, before opening it and fighting the urge to laugh.

it’s a little frosted cupcake, with the word virgin crossed out on it.

“you’re horrible.”

“it’s funny!”

“what’s in the box?” sukuna asks.

sukuna watches as your eyes widen, before you slam the little pink box shut and slide it behind your back.

you feel your heart sink your chest as sukuna stalks closer, giving you a wide grin, before he stretches his arms – which are irritatingly long – behind you and reaches for it. and before you can even try to snatch it back, he’s turned his back to you as he opens it.

“who gave you this? or is this just something you bought yourself?”

“why the hell would i buy that for myself?”

sukuna laughs as he hands you the box back, which you tuck closer to your chest before you glare at him.

“it’s okay to celebrate big milestones in our relationship. i get it, sweetheart.” he responds.

“i did not buy myself a cupcake with the word virgin crossed out on it. sammy gave it to me. she thinks she’s hilarious.”

sukuna shrugs.

“you’ve been hanging out with sammy a lot.”

you smile.

“dunno. she always invites me to come get coffee with her. the other day i asked her to come study with me and it was really nice.”

“and you talk about how you’re not a virgin over a matcha while you hang out.”

you grin.

“it was actually a slice of cake.”

sukuna dismissively shakes his head, before leaning his head over your shoulder and eyeing the cupcake.

“what flavor?”

“chocolate. you’re not going to like it.”

he’s leaning over your shoulder, sticking his finger straight into the frosting before licking it off his finger. you watch as he curls his face in disgust as he holds his finger out to you.

“too sweet. want it?”

you swipe the rest of the frosting off of his finger as you tuck the box back into the fridge and turn around to sukuna smirking at you. you roll your eyes as you shove him, knowing that this was going to be yet another one of his dirty jokes – that never seemed to cease.

it’s at that point that you realize that he entirely did it on purpose. and that he had the maturity of a seventeen year old boy at times.

“you’re immature. i just licked your finger.” you state.

“you just licked my finger? like you just licked my –”

you flip him off, earning you a laugh from him, before he wraps his arms around your waist, this time pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. it’s not long before he starts leaving wet kisses on your neck, before you can feel your entire body start to thrum under his touch.

“c'mon. you’re so tense. let me fix it.” he whispers.

“i need to iron our clothes. and i’m just worried about later, with the moms, that’s all.”

his breath tickles as he leans lower, now sucking into the soft spots of your neck, as you whine – his voice rasping against your skin. you try to shake him off, already sporting three marks that you’d need to cover up for tonight, but he persists.

“who cares?” he murmurs.

you pout.

“i care! she’s your mom! she’s my mom! and sammy said they invited yuuji, who is probably going to be pissed that i was going there without him in the first place. and your dad is going to be there which is –”

sukuna spins you around, tucking his hand under your chin.

“i don’t give a fuck what my dad thinks. neither should you.”

“i don’t. but, he…”

“what?”

“he says stuff. about yuuji when we go. he could say it about us too, about you.”

“i don’t care.”

“well, i do. who gives him the right?”

it was a simmering irritation that had been taking residence in your head for the past few days. you’d always thought it was a little crass – sukuna’s comments about how his mom was spineless at times, how he couldn’t care less if his father lived or died.

he’d always found your insistence to see your parents at least every two weeks ridiculous, that you and yuuji would go out of your way to trek out there to see them when the entire experience was wholly unpleasant anyways.

but it was all you thought about now – and maybe even a little haunting that now you found his reasoning sound. that as much as you loved his mom, she really was spineless for making him assume so much responsibility when it should have been her. and his dad – that you would actually prefer it if he did die, just to save the two of them from getting hurt.

sukuna lifts his hands and squishes your cheeks, so close together that you can’t get a word out. you glare at him in response – irritated that he always seems to somehow shut you up before you can even broach the topic.

but you drop it, like you almost always do, because all he does is brightly smile at you in response, muttering under his breath about how squishy your cheeks are. and it feels wrong – to curb someone who was so happy and bring up such a sore topic…especially when you two would probably return to the apartment downtrodden in a few hours and have to talk about it anyways.

“sukuna.”

he reaches up, rubbing his thumb into your forehead – a gesture he always did when he was trying to get you to stop frowning.

“eh? what happened to calling me ryomen?”

“well, you’re being annoying.”

“quit making that frowny face.”

“i’m just saying that i want dinner to go well. i don’t want it to go bad because then the moms are going to be upset and yuuji could be too which will be irritating for you and i just –”

sukuna gives you one lingering kiss before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours.

“love that you worry about me. but i’ll be fine. just drop it, okay?” he whispers.

you frown.

“okay. but the first sign of trouble we’re leaving. three squeezes we fight and leave, two squeezes for shut up and stay.”

sukuna smiles.

“deal, pretty girl.”

you stand on the cobblestone walkway for five minutes. mainly because every time sukuna makes an effort to drag you into the house, you pull back on his hand and linger there for a few more seconds, refusing to walk in.

“we’re already late. one of them is probably having an aneurysm right now.” sukuna states.

“there’s no way they aren’t watching this all go down from the window. and two more minutes. i’m just trying to compose myself.”

“well, unfortunately, we’re not in the fucking orchestra, baby. let’s just get it over with.”

you roll your eyes at him and he tries again – pulling your arm forward – before you pull back. you appreciate that he refuses to walk in without you, but that simmering pool of disgust in your stomach, mainly for sukuna’s dad, was getting even worse now that you were here. and if you went now, you wouldn’t keep the promise you two had made.

to avoid fights, at all costs.

“so what are we doing out here?”

you both turn your heads to find yuuji at your sides, both immediately dropping your hands from one another’s, as you look at him. it fills an ache in your chest – that you used to do this with him and he barely even wanted to see you these days – as you give him a halfhearted smile.

“ah. just nervous to go in, that’s all.” you respond.

“oh, the moms will be dying to hear all the details. what’s there to be scared of?”

“exactly that. that they’re going to ask for details.”

yuuji leans his head back, laughing like a little kid, before shaking his head and pressing his hands to your shoulders. it fills you with the slightest amount of ease – warm hands on your shoulders, his musky cologne filling your nose – as you walk closer to the door.

sukuna knocks on the door for the three of you. and they both answer the door in a split second, confirming your suspicions that they really were watching everything go down from the window.

it’s suffocating – the group hug that the two of them trap you all in. you can hear both yuuji and sukuna groaning in your ears, your own windpipe constricted from your vantage point in the middle, as you hear a string of sweet nothings coming out of their mouths.

“our little love birds are here!”

when they let go, freeing the three of you from their deathly grasp, they’re both beaming at you and sukuna so lovingly that it almost freaks you out. you shoot a look to yuuji at your side, whose making his best efforts not to laugh, as he walks past the four of you into the kitchen.

“okay, okay, let’s see it then!” your mom states.

“see what?” sukuna asks.

“do something sweet. give her a kiss, sukuna!” mrs. itadori adds.

“i will most definitely not be doing that.” sukuna responds, pressing a halfhearted kiss to his mom’s cheek before linking his arm in with yours and dragging you past the two of them.

they both follow, like overzealous dogs, as you shoot them polite smiles. but the second you catch sight of sammy in the kitchen, with a batch of cupcakes, you wrestle out of sukuna’s grasp to run up to her.

sammy gives you a smile in recognition when she realizes it’s your pounding steps that she’s hearing and opens her arms up for you. it’s a warm hug – a sickeningly sweet smell of sugar emanating from her – as she whispers into your ear, the two of you snickering.

“did he like my cupcake?”

“i hope you die, bitch.”

“who said that?” your mom asks.

“sammy.” you respond.

“y/n.” sammy responds, at the exact same time.

you both snicker as you lean against the counter with her, as sukuna walks over with his arms crossed against his chest.

“samantha.” he states.

“ryomen sukuna.” she responds.

“y/n!” you add.

the two of them look over at you, irritated looks on their faces.

“everyone was saying each other’s names really dramatically. i wanted to join in.” you add.

“i’m going to have a talk with you after dinner, ryomen.”

“fine, samantha. i look forward to it.”

despite the rather dramatic and overzealous tones they’re both using, their smiles deceive them entirely. sammy gives him a light shove, that he fully returns, before he walks off into the kitchen.

and not even two minutes later, you can’t help but abandon helping the sammy with the dishes and instead poke your head out to the table – where sukuna’s now sitting next to yuuji and two seats away from his dad.

you can tell that the sukuna and yuuji are whispering under their breaths, but entirely unable to discern if it’s pleasant or if they’re two seconds away from ripping each other’s heads off.

sammy slaps you on the backside of the head.

“you’re even worse than him. why are you staring at him? you literally live together.”

“we don’t live together. and how do you even know that?”

“you told me.”

“i totally didn’t, but…they’ve been fighting since we started dating. i’m scared one of them is going to smack the other at this point.”

sammy rolls her eyes.

“don’t tell me yuuji has some weird complex about you dating his brother. there’s no way he didn’t know sukuna has liked you this entire time.”

“what are you girls whispering about?” your mom asks.

you both shoot up, abandoning the door, as you start stacking the plates, shooting the two of them a peachy smile.

“nothing, mommy. just girl stuff.” you mutter.

“y/n was staring at sukuna. i was telling her that she has all the time in the world to do that and that she should help me instead.”

you shoot sammy a glare, as she starts laughing behind her hand, before sukuna’s mom walks up to you, cupping both of your cheeks in her hands. you’re caught off guard by the blatant affection – because it’s not that she hasn’t been fond of you before, but it holds too much of a different weight now.

“oh sweet girl. i’m so happy for you two, i’ve always known he’s had such a special spot for you.”

you smile as she reaches forward and presses a wet kiss to your cheek, before wrapping you in one of the tightest hugs to man. you can feel the blood rushing to your head, nervousness returning in full flesh as she lets you go and smiles.

“so everyone tells me! at this point, it feels like everyone knew but me.” you add.

“do you remember when he walked to a grocery store to get you a princess bandaid because you thought the tan ones were boring? because i personally remember that and thought –”

“sammy, quit it. don’t tease your sister.” your mom scolds.

sammy bites down on her cheeks at the comment, at being berated by your mom, as you frown. you look at her over your shoulder, shaking your head in dismissal, as you grab the last of the dishes and drag them out to the table.

it was a weird test – the dinner tonight. between you and sammy, since you had just rekindled whatever relationship it was you had, and you and yuuji, since he couldn’t seem to be bothered to really talk to you these days. and between your god given patience and sukuna’s dad, obviously.

when you walk into the room, sukuna shuffles a seat over, offering you the spot in between him and yuuji, and you shoot him a grateful smile. but you immediately regret sliding into it, realizing that he’s now stuck right next to his dad and across from his mom at the other side.

you reach for sukuna’s hand under the table and he laces his fingers in with yours. when he looks up at you, he frowns and presses his fingers to your cheek.

“you have a lipstick mark.” sukuna states, rubbing into the softness of your cheek.

“oh. your mom kissed me.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“irritating. that’s my thing.”

sukuna drops his hand as your mom walks in with the last of the plates, everyone shuffling into their seats and giving each other peachy smiles. it’s almost awkward at first, because no one seems to really talk with anyone else. it’s really only the moms interjecting every one in a while, but it’s almost always awkward comments.

“sammy. you should have brought your boyfriend.” your mom states.

you shoot your head up.

“he’s busy.” she responds.

“he’s always busy. we’d love to meet the guy you spend so much time with. he could even be friends with sukuna!”

“well, sukuna is annoying, so i doubt it. but sure, sure. next time.” sammy responds, reaching for her glass and downing half of the water in it.

you shoot her a smile, which she doesn’t really return, as you bite down into the side of your cheek.

the dinner goes well, considering things. it’s obviously very awkward – and they ask way too many overbearing questions that sukuna refuses to answer due to the intrusion. and that you can’t stomach answering either, because yuuji’s almost too attentive eyes at your side guilt you into not confessing.

“have you guys said i love you yet?” mrs. itadori asks.

“mom.” sukuna groans.

you two shoot each other a look.

“if you must know, we have. now talk about something else, literally anything else.” sukuna responds, making such an aggressive cut into his chicken that it loudly clinks against the ceramic of the plate.

it’s enough to satiate the moms and throw them into their own frenzy of excitement.

“i’m going to get some water.” yuuji states.

“i’ll come with!” you respond, shooting him a smile as you both awkwardly pull out of the chairs.

it’s a quiet walk to the kitchen, as yuuji rummages through the cabinets and produces a glass for the two of you. but luckily enough for you, he’s the one who fills the silence first.

“i miss you.” he offers.

you feel your chest clench.

“really? i really miss you too.”

“got no time for me anymore now that you’ve got a boyfriend?” he jokes.

“that’s rich coming from you.” you joke back.

except when you look up, he’s looking at you with no semblance of a smile on his face, instead an awkward mix between confusion and irritation.

“what do you mean by that?”

“oh! i was just kidding!”

“were you?”

“it’s just because you’re always with megumi. and he always used to come to our hangouts, that’s all.”

“do you have a problem with that?”

“no. but –”

“because if you did, you should have just said. i thought we were best friends who told each other everything. including when the other was being a bad friend.” yuuji states.

“i know. i just felt bad and i didn’t really mind him joining.”

yuuji sighs, before turning to your side and facing you properly this time. it’s a simmering pool of disgust in your stomach – mainly for yourself – that yuuji had tried to build a bridge and you’d immediately burned it down by making a joke that wasn’t appropriate.

“look. i don’t like fighting with you. and i really miss you, you…you can even ask megumi. talk about it all the time. we have a lot to talk about, obviously, but –”

you sigh, reaching forward and opening your arms for him. it’s a bright smile that he gives you – characteristically warm, with the soft wrinkles by his eyes.

“i miss you too.”

“i’ll uh…promise to be civil then. if sukuna’s the hill you’re willing to die on, then…then i’ll try to get over it.”

you smile.

“really?”

“are you really that shocked? i’d do anything for you.”

“you gave me a pause there.” you add.

yuuji frowns, before reaching forward, and affectionately ruffling the side of your hair.

“i love you, y/n. i’m sorry if i didn’t make it seem that way, i just –”

“i know you love me. i just thought you trusted me more to know i wouldn’t make stupid decisions anymore.”

yuuji frowns.

“i don’t think you’re stupid. it was him i didn’t trust.”

“well, how about you just trust my judgment about him?”

“i just want you to be with someone who would treat you really well.”

“and he does treat me really well. i wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t.”

you reach forward, linking one of your hands in with yuuji’s, and squeeze hard.

“i appreciate the concern. but i’ll tap out if it’s too much for me.” you affirm.

yuuji frowns, before halfheartedly shaking his head.

“i know. just…you’re still my best friend first. you can still come to me if he does something to you…i…i don’t give a shit that he’s my brother.”

“obviously. you’re my day one.” you respond.

yuuji gives you a glimmering smile, which you take as a silent win, as you both walk back into the main room. and when you sit back down, sammy shoots you a wide eyed look, before letting her eyes flicker over to sukuna.

you look over at him at your side, only to find him clenching not only his jaw but his fists under the table. you reach for his leg under the table, squeezing once, which he immediately responds to by taking hold of your hand instead.

“you’re finally back. don’t you think it’s rude to leave for minutes at a time, y/n, yuuji?”

you bite down on your lip, feeling the acidic feeling crawl up your throat, as you turn your head to where sukuna’s dad is now staring you down. you shoot sukuna a warning glance, before you swallow the feeling down.

“i’m sorry. i wasn’t feeling well.” you respond.

you’re able to cue in that in the few seconds that you and yuuji had stepped into the kitchen, his dad had downed a decent amount of the wine bottle that had been intended for you and sukuna to share.

and the awkward silence hangs in the air, everyone lowering their heads to focus on pushing their food around on their plate. no one makes an effort to talk again and sukuna’s squeezing your hand so hard that you’re almost positive that he’s cutting your circulation off.

“what were you and yuuji talking about?” he asks.

“nothing. we were just getting water, because she wasn’t feeling well.” yuuji responds.

“right. well, you’re sure there’s nothing going on right? because you’ve always been closer than most.”

sukuna watches as you and yuuji pinch your eyes shut, the irritation festering in both of your expressions. sukuna remembers that you had mentioned it in passing – that his dad always seemed to suggest that there was something going on between you and yuuji – to avoid talking about megumi.

“she’s my girlfriend.” sukuna responds.

“well, like i was saying, you should rethink that.” his dad adds.

yuuji drops his fork.

“what?”

“yuuji, don’t.” sammy whispers.

“well, i was just saying. if it were me, i would feel strange if my wife was so close with another man. they’ve had hundreds of sleep overs…and you’re really telling me that two teenagers were sleeping in the same bed without doing anything?”

you feel your eye twitch.

“and then again, you do have to question her intentions. he makes more money than her, i’m now being told that she lives with him, and…and it begs the question. what does she really bring to the table? at best, student loans?”

sukuna immediately shoots his head to the left, only to find you looking down at your plate, the strands of your hair obscuring your face. he shakes your hand under the table, only to get two squeezes back.

no fighting.

he leans back in his chair, stomach rolling over, only to find yuuji staring bullets into his skin. he gives him a confused look, which only seems to agitate yuuji more.

“do something.” yuuji whispers.

“what the hell are you on about? just be quiet.” sukuna responds.

yuuji slams his utensils down on the plate, before pushing out of his chair.

“sukuna. help me with the dessert in the kitchen.” yuuji responds, tone scathing.

you let the two of them shuffle away into the kitchen and restrain yourself from joining them for a full two minutes. but the first shred of a raised voice that you hear is enough to make you push out of your chair and excuse yourself, only to find the two of them glaring at each other.

“guys…you have to be kidding me.” you state.

“y/n. you said you would tap out. i think now’s the time.” yuuji states.

sukuna tilts his head to the side.

“you said what?” sukuna asks.

“yuuji. that is in no way what i meant. and why the hell would i tap out?”

“he’s a dick! sukuna’s letting him talk to you like that and he doesn’t even care.”

sukuna’s sneering at him.

“like i said, dipshit, she asked me specifically not to. i actually care enough to listen unlike you.” sukuna responds.

yuuji’s glaring back.

“i would never, in good faith, let anyone talk about her like that. maybe that’s the difference between me and you.”

“you didn’t say shit when we were sitting there.” sukuna states.

“because you’re supposed to do that. she’s your girlfriend. you should adore her so much that it pisses you off that someone would even raise their voice at her.”

“and i do. but i love her enough to respect what she wants – which is not fucking fighting in front of our parents, dumbass.”

yuuji gets a little too close to sukuna and his raised hands make the panic rise up in your chest. you feel a set of footsteps moving before sammy’s standing right at your side, the two of you watching as they continue to argue.

you refuse to intervene. sukuna was mature enough to deal with it.

“do something.” sammy whispers.

“what the hell am i supposed to do?” you whisper back.

“they’re like your little lap dogs. make one stop and the other will follow. mrs. itadori’s like two minutes away from crying.”

you groan, as sammy gives you a supportive thumbs up, and you inch closer to them.

it’s the last time you decide to take sammy’s advice.

because the exact second that you decide to walk closer to them is also when yuuji decides that he’s going to punch sukuna first. except when he pulls his hand back to aim, he backs his fist into your face instead of sukuna’s.

it’s a burning warmth that’s blooming under your skin, as you clutch your hands to your forehead and block out the light before dropping to your knees. you instinctively try to block the light out as the pulsating rushes under the softness of your eye, the pain sharp.

you feel your head raise off of the cold tile quickly, sammy’s hands on your cheeks.

“shit. shit, y/n i’m sorry i didn’t think he’d punch you.” sammy states.

“sammy, you…you’re such a fucking idiot.” you murmur, in half coherency.

the first thing that you see in your peripheral vision is sammy and yuuji looking down at you, a warm fear drowning in both of their eyes but with the edges of your vision blurred. you can tell that there’s a slight sheen in yuuji’s eyes, his hands squeezing at your biceps and his voice entirely frantic.

“y/n. oh my fucking god, i’m so sorry. i didn’t even fucking see you there. i would never fucking hit you.”

“hey. hey, hey. focus on me.” sammy beckons.

you avert your gaze to her, now focused on how her fingers seem to be massaging into the back of your head.

“repeat your name for me.” sammy asks.

“what? you know my name sammy.”

“you know where you are?” she asks.

you can tell what she’s doing.

“sam, i’m fine. quit doing one of your nursing school exams on me.”

“follow my finger with your eyes. you hit your head, dumbass.”

the light is entirely obscured this time, quieting the sharpness of the fluorescent bulb above, when you finally find sukuna in your line of vision, nursing a bag of peas in his hands. he doesn’t say anything, eyes drowning in such guilt that it makes your stomach turn.

“hey, i’m fine.” you offer.

“sit up for me then doll.” he responds.

you follow his command, both sammy and yuuji stabilizing you at your side as he brushes his fingers over your eye. you flinch at the sensation, watching as his eyes flicker in hurt, before he presses the peas into the softness of your eyes. he continues to hold it there, before turning to sammy.

“is she okay, sam?”

“she didn’t answer all my questions, but i think she was just sassing me. she’s alert but just be on the watch if she gets more confused as she gets home. call me if it gets worse.” sammy offers.

“anything else i can do besides the ice?” sukuna asks, voice quiet.

“she’s going to be fine. s’just a bruise. give her an advil for a headache.” sammy responds, reaching forward to ruffle your hair before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

yuuji takes one of your hands in his, squeezing his hand in yours.

“y/n, really. i’m so sorry, you have to know that i didn’t mean it.”

you frown.

“i know, yuu. no big deal, let’s just…talk about it later, okay? i know it was an accident and…”

you’re cut off by the feeling of sukuna taking your other hand and squeezing three times. you look over at him, eyes wide.

“you might not need to tap out yet but i fucking do. can we leave?” he whispers.

“of course we can. i don’t want to –”

“i’m getting your bag. stay with sammy.” he responds, gesturing for her to take his place in holding the peas against your face as he stalks out of the room.

sukuna returns just as fast as he left, bag in his left hand and his right wrapped around your waist as he marches the two of you to the porch. in the few seconds he uses to pull up to the car at the front, you turn to sammy at your side.

“stay with yuuji. tell him that it’s okay and that he should stay with megumi tonight. i don’t want him to be all upset.”

“got it. i’ll come by tomorrow, okay?”

you give her a nod, as she walks you to the passenger side door, where sukuna’s quick to open the door and tuck you into the warmth of the car.

it’s a quiet ride home.

he’s uncharacteristically inexpressive the second you get back to the apartment. you can tell that it’s not nonchalance – only because he seems to be tending to you so dutifully, but quietly. almost like he can’t muster up something to say. and you can’t think of the right thing either.

he’s quick to lead you to the bedroom, helping you into your pajamas and carefully pulling the shirt over your injured eye. and even after that, delicately wiping the makeup off of your face, before pressing a real icepack into your eye.

it’s satisfying to him that you seem to relax under the cooling sensation of the icepack, fluttiern gyur eyes shut like you’re relieved.

“thanks ryo. i appreciate you taking care of me.” you mumble.

he lifts his hands up to your neck, using the tips of his fingers to angle your face up so that he can look at you properly in the light. you can see the contempt in his face at the pink swelling now, at how he swallows so hard you can see his adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“i’m going to kill him.” sukuna whipsers.

“i don’t care what your dad thinks. i don’t care if he thinks i have nothing to offer you –”

“not him…i’m talking about fucking yuuij. he fucking punched you, y/n.”

you cringe.

“it was an accident.” you respond.

“i know that. but that’s just the thing. he’s so fucking immature for even attempting to punch me at a family dinner. and as always, he has no fucking awareness of his surroundings or of you, because he just gave you a black eye.”

you can tell that he’s still simmering – muscles in his neck tense – as you try to diffuse the stiffness and tension.

“you care so much about little old me?” you joke, giving him a peachy smile.

he only glares in response.

“he punched you in your pretty face. stop fucking joking about it. i know how much that shit hurts first hand, y/n, and it's in no way funny to me."

you frown, before standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. he’s quick to return the hug, holding most of your weight around your waist as you sag into him.

his voice is quiet when it comes out.

"i hate seeing you in pain." he mumbles.

it’s only then that you’re really able to recollect everything – the extremely high energy that the moms seemed to be dishing out, his dad’s clear, abundantly clear disapproval of you, and the fact that you and yuuji seemed to only get farther apart the closer you try to be to him. a

nd that the pinching headache that was starting to settle into the front of your forehead was something sukuna was all to familiar with, at age seven. that maybe the entire ordeal was reminding him of the worst, but that you were at the center of it.

and horribly, it’s a quick thought that passes your mind. that what you and yuujji have going on in between you might be irreparable. that you have to pick, and that you can't fix anything that happened to sukuna when he was little.

you don’t say much at first, only focused on pressing yourself into his skin and leaning against his shoulder. the thought of never recuperating your relationship with yuuji has the tiredness seeping into your bones and wearing you down completely.

his breaths seem to slow down, muscles relaxing as he only holds you closer, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“quit being mad.” you murmur.

“easier said than done, princess.” he responds.

“was an accident. i know why it bothers you but...”

sukuna's quiet, his voice like gravel.

"i don't want to talk about that."

you pull back, immediately regretting mentioning it.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to push, i just meant-"

"i know. i just can't stomach reliving that when i can see the bruise on your face. i can't even fucking look at you, you...."

his voice wavers and you press your hand into his cheek, dismissing it.

"whenever you're ready. if you want to."

you frown. sukuna’s quick to pull back and wrap one his hands around your cheek.

“stop talking about me. you're the one who's hurt, you...you have to let me fix it.” he whispers.

you can tell that he's trying to change the subject. and that really, some part of him only feels comfortable when he's taking care of someone else. you'll grant it to him for today.

“i’m just tired and that was just a lot with yuuji and i just…”

you deflate, feeling warm tears rise up in your eyes. that he always wants to take care of you, even when he doesn't feel his best. you can watch as sukuna’s face literally droops, before lifting your face up again.

that really, he cared about you so earnestly, and yuuji was refusing to see it.

“what is it?”

“what if yuuji and i are never the same again? what if…what if we just keep getting worse?”

sukuna frowns.

“i don’t like that he makes you pick, y/n. but i wouldn’t –”

“no. no fuck off for a second, god.”

sukuna’s thrown off by the cursing, as he takes the cue to be quiet and talk.

“i’d pick you. he’s being a dick and i-i’d always pick you. you’re all the cheesy stuff for me. we’re two stars and two flowers and you…you’re the love of my life. i’d pick you. i just hate that he won’t let me have this thing and how we don’t get to have a big…a big cheesy family who is happy for us besides sammy, who i really love right now.”

sukuna tucks the stray hair behind your ears, before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“it’s not fair! we deserve people who just want to be happy for us, you deserve a good dad who isn’t a dick, i deserve one who is still here, and i’ve always wanted a big wedding and future with a warm family that…that bakes cookies for each other and shit and it just gets more and more obvious that we’ll never get to have that and it makes me angry.”

sukuna smiles, before pressing his hands to the sides of your waist and lifting you up on to the counter. he takes residence in the spot between your legs, looking up at you with the softest of smiles.

“i wanted to have a nice dinner where yuuji realized you made me really happy and sammy could admit that she’s bi or a lesbian or experimenting or whatever and i wanted to feel like people really loved me and were finally happy for me after everything that happened.” you add.

you look down to find sukuna with the smallest whisper of a smile on his face and you can’t help but glare at him.

“what are you smiling about freak?” you mutter.

“you want a big cheesy family with me.”

you roll your eyes.

“i got hit in the head. let me live.”

sukuna shakes his head.

“no take backs, angel.”

he presses a kiss into the bare skin of your shoulder, before mumbling quietly.

“no corny family for us, right now. but that doesn’t mean that we can’t make one for ourselves.”

“hm?”

“we can make our own big cheesy family. you’d be a really good soccer mom.”

you snort.

“you’d run a kindergarten soccer team like it was the military.” you respond.

“damn right i would. our kid has to be the best.”

you smile.

“we’ll be a proper family. you have to make school lunches that every food on the fucking food pyramid in them or whatever and corny notes about how much you love them. and i’ll teach them math and attempt to not make them cry when i help them. we’ll go to shitty concerts together and pretend like it was good and i will obviously fight a snotty nosed child if they ever bother our kids.”

you poke at his dimples.

“we’ll rotate on good cop bad cop. i’ll pretend like i’m their favorite when we both know it’ll be you. sammy will be a wine aunt and if yuuji can stop being a fucking bitch, which he will, he’d fucking spoil them rotten.” he adds.

“why are you saying all this?”

“we’ll make the family we want. s’no point in being upset about it when we’ll have it all. i'll make sure of it.”

you sigh, before pushing off of the counter and looking up at him. he leans down, pressing a featherlike kiss into the pulsating bruise near your eye, before locking his hands together around your neck.

“see the vision?” he asks.

“not really. i would hate being a soccer mom. yuuji doesn’t seem like he’s going to let up. and sammy doesn’t like wine, sukuna.”

sukuna smiles.

“we’ll get you there. i’ll keep convincing you till you’ll believe it, okay?”

“are you mad i can’t see it?”

“no. thought stuff like that was hopeless for me before i met you, so. and fighting with your best friend and hearing shit from people you want more from doesn’t make that easy. but i'll get you there.”

he reaches forward, tracing a little x over your chest. you give him a nod, before mimicking the same motion on his heart too.

next part linked here

an: sometimes i wonder if this fic is ever annoying. but then I ignore it and post the chapter anyways. anyways meow the next chapter im so excited for eek

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani78 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

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ohnoitstbskyen · 3 months ago

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100 songs to get to know me

I posted this image over on the bluesky, and it got like 100 likes, so now here we are. I was going to write them all up here, but Tumblr imposes a 10 video limit on embeds per post which I find infuriating.

So! You can read the first ten entries here, but you can read the entire list here: https://tbskyen.bearblog.dev/100-songs-to-get-to-know-me/

1. ABBA - Lay All Your Love On Me

youtube

I genuinely don't quite know if my enjoyment of ABBA is something I came by honestly, or something which is simply genetically engineered into my Scandinavian soul. I remember hearing my mom blasting their songs on the home stereo in my childhood, and the association has put permanent nostalgia blinders on me for all of ABBA's greatest hits. Still, I think the beat is undeniable and the mournful tone of the chorus adds some real melancholy to the dramatic plea at the core of the song.

2. Afenginn - Oestrogenmanipuleret Basilisk

youtube

Afenginn describe themselves as "bastard etno-punk" which is probably as good a description as you're going to get. There's a lot of klezmer and eastern European folk influences here, but what is more important about Afenginn's best songs is that they go hard as f*ck and it's an absolute blast to dance to them at a show. They played this the first time I saw them live, and the rhythm comes back every time I hear it again. Good times!

3. Afenginn - Ralli in D Minor

youtube

With 100 slots to fill, I am giving myself permission to allocate two slots to Afenginn, and for the same reason. Ralli in D Minor is less of a dance tune to me, and more of a headbanger, but with a sufficiently loud subwoofer and a game crowd, you could f*ing mosh to this.

4. Anamanaguchi - Prom Night

youtube

I discovered Anamanaguchi as the composers of the title track to the Nerdist podcast back in the day, and being unfamiliar with the concept of chiptunes, I was drawn in initially by the sheer novelty of hearing the squeaks and bloops of my gaming childhood employed towards rock tunes and combined with "real" instruments.

Beyond the gimmick, though, Anamanaguchi won me over fully with the Scott Pilgrim game soundtrack, and then 2013's Endless Fantasy, where the gimmick of chiptune nostalgia noise (at least for me) finally coalesced into something that felt entirely like its own thing. Plus I'm a sucker for exactly this kind of bright dance pop, and Bianca Raquel's vocals here are a perfect match for the tone of the music.

5. Jennifer Hudson - Memory

youtube

2019s Cats is a fascinating fucking disaster. Tom Hooper is the worst director of musicals in my living memory, the abuse of the VFX staff extended beyond brutal crunch and absurd challenge imposed by a director who had no idea what the hell he was asking them to do all the way into an astonishingly arrogant and condescending joke from Rebel Wilson and James Corden at the expense of workers who were the last people at fault for the disaster that the movie became (look in the fucking mirror, Wilson and Corden, your performances were rancid).

Still, the silver lining of Cats is we got to hear Jennifer Hudson shake the world on its foundations with her rendition of Memory. I don't give a shit what anyone says, this performance is transcendent and no amount of institutional failure can dim its quality.

6. Annette Bjergfeldt - Min Bærende Bjælke

youtube

Annette is one of my mother's oldest friends, and a prolific singer-songwriter now turned author. I've been going to her concerts since I was a little child, and while I am absolutely not the target audience for any of it, it has stuck with me as part of my musical vocabulary deep into adulthood.

She has experimented with brass band accompaniment a few times, but for my money, nothing quite comes close to the floating, optimistic vibe of Min Bærende Bjælke. It sounds like a very particular kind of lasting romance, which of course is also what the lyrics are about.

7. Hozier - Blood Upon the Snow

youtube

We'll get more than one Hozier song on this list, but Blood Upon the Snow stands out to me as a song which easily transcends the videogame soundtrack promotional tie-in nature of its conception. Bear McCreary's hurdy gurdy and lyrics about surviving through adversity by holding on to existence with your teeth and nails... yeah, it hits with me. There's something real in that.

"The trees deny themselves nothing that makes them grow, no rainfall, no sunshine, no blood upon the snow." Something about that feels real.

8. The Beatles - Something

youtube

idk if I really need to write anything about George Harrison's most famous love song that hasn't been written more extensively by a million dad-rock enthusiasts before me.

I will say, this is one of the few songs I listen to regularly that justify the expensive audiophile headphones I invest in. There's a LOT to hear on a good, lossless, original mix of this song, if you're the kind of pervert who gets off to listening to a song a hundred times to focus on different parts of the soundscape. (it's me, I am the pervert)

9. Blink-182 - Adam's Song

youtube

I discovered a lot of my music taste as a young man from extremely low-resolution AMVs that my friend used to download off sketchy file-sharing sites. Blink-182 entered my musical lexicon through the one above, specifically, piggybacking off of my teenage love of Dragon Ball.

I never really grokked what the lyrics were actually about, until relistening to the song years later, but something about the minor-key wail of the thing really sat with my angsty teenage soul and has stuck with me ever since. I cannot listen to this song without that music video playing in my head, the song will forever belong to Vegeta.

There's remastered versions of this AMV out there, apparently, but if it's not 144p with tinny audio, it's just not right. That's not what the song is supposed to sound like, not to me.

10. Blink-182 - Miss You

youtube

Blink-182 is one of those bands I discovered via anime AMVs and listened to obsessively for a period as a teenager (The Offspring will show up later on this list), and then fell entirely out of touch with for years until discovering much later in life that they did, in fact, keep releasing music. I Miss You from their self-titled 2003 album felt, when I discovered it sometime in the early 2010s, like a much more mature and interesting sound from a band which had gotten stuck associated with my adolescent superpower kung-fu fantasies which I was, at the time, feeling a bit embarrassed about.

The song had a resurgence on TikTok a little while ago as a meme template, which made me listen to the albums again, and rediscover yet again that Blink-182 is, in fact, still putting out albums.

---

The rest of the list is here: https://tbskyen.bearblog.dev/100-songs-to-get-to-know-me/

#tb posting #Youtube #tb blog #music recommendation

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peachhcs · 22 days ago

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moments on the ring 2

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

more moments on the ring camera doorbell capturing all of the precious moments (can be read as a stand alone too)

wc: 3.1k

i'm back with a second part to another one of my favorite fics that makes me really wish i had my own ring doorbell. the last part doesn't really match with the au timeline, but let's pretend it does for the sake of this fic :)

au masterlist | part one

ONE (samy's senior prom)

will nervously stepped onto the porch with his mom, gabe, drew, and aram all behind him dressed in their best suits while the other three stood by colleen watching. the hockey player had been a crazy nervous wreck all morning as he got ready in a navy blue suit that would match samy's puple dress. after spending the past few months wondering how exactly he felt for his best friend, he wondered now what this night would mean for them. obviously, samy was bringing him as a friend, but was there really something more behind that? will rang the doorbell where he eyed the camera on top, offering it a small wave hoping it didn't pick up on his shaky hand.

colleen was behind the boys recording to get the reaction and samy's mom was recording her as she pulled the front door open. the girl stood in the entry way in her purple, floor length dress and white heels that brought her almost eye to eye with will. the blonde flushed, unable to take his eyes off of her. "woah," he mumbled.

"hey," samy flushed too, unable to take her eyes off will too. they stared at one another like that another minute until gabe poked will's back with a small snicker to break him out of his trance.

"y-you look..wow. pretty. these are for you," the blonde snapped from his daze and shakily showed samy her corsage. she smiled, admiring the purple and blue flowers to match what they were wearing.

"i love it. let me get your boutonniere," the girl rushed back inside to get the plastic container while samy's friends, lauren, marcie, and riley greeted gabe, drew, and aram who were their dates for the night. will stood off to the side watching his friends greet the girls and compliment their appearance while waiting anxiously for samy to reappear.

he swore his brain short circuited for a second when he saw the brunette all dressed up like that. it probably wasn't gonna be the last time either. luke poked his head out the door to greet the others too, smiling and dapping them up. samy came back out a moment later, smiling at will again.

"does everyone want pictures in front of the door while we do the corsages?" ellen asked and everyone agreed. they let samy and will go first since they were already on the porch. will got the corsage out from the box and smiled when samy stuck her wrist out for him to put it on.

ellen and colleen snapped way with their photos while the boys snickered watching the exchange knowing all too well. will just hoped samy couldn't tell his hands were shaking. the youngest hughes took his boutonniere from the box, her own hands shaking and began pinning it on the lapel of will's suit. his eyes were glued to her, loving how hard she was focusing to make sure she didn't prick either of them. sounds of ellen's camera going off faded out of their ears and it was only samy and will on that porch for a few seconds, especially when their eyes met again once samy got it pinned.

"you look really gorgeous," the blonde mumbled, admiring the gems in parts of samy's hair, the way the curls fell perfectly down her shoulders, her dress hugging all the right places—he was so gone.

"thank you, you look really handsome," samy complimented back, her hands brushing down his suit as a way to try and make them stop shaking.

"okay, get together and smile big!" ellen broke them from their little bubble. will quickly wrapped his arm around samy's waist, a bit of pride flooding his chest that it was finally him holding onto her and he was her date. samy leaned into him, her one hand on his lower stomach and they smiled wide just like ellen said.

everyone but the parents exchanged more knowing glances and they all hoped this night was lead to something very soon between their two friends.

"okay, smile at the ring camera so jack and quinn can see too," ellen said before will and samy walked off the porch. the two turned and bent down, nervous but bright smiles on their lips as they flashed two thumbs up for the brothers not there.

they got off the porch a second later so the next two could take their turn.

once everyone was finished, everyone grabbed some last minute things inside before they left. samy walked out with her purse and turned to the camera again, "wish we luck guys, i'm super nervous, but moosey said it'd be fine," samy laughed mostly to ease her nerves. sometimes she liked talking at the ring like it was a vlog and her brothers and parents were the audience.

will walked out behind her, flashing one more thumbs up for good luck before he helped samy to his car.

—

it was late when will and samy walked back up the front porch again. will was holding samy's heels for her since she took them off after an hour in because they were hurting her feet. the brunette had will's suit jacket on over her dress that he offered her before they left the venue. everyone else had already gone in before them a minute before, loud laughter and chatter passing through the camera.

"thanks for bringing me, that was a lot of fun," will said as they stepped onto the porch. the brunette smiled.

"i'm glad you had fun. thanks for being my date," samy hummed, reaching for the door handle.

"of course," will smiled back. he wondered a lot of times that night if it would be appropriate to kiss her, but considering he didn't wanna fuck anything up on a night they were just supposed to be having fun, he thought better of it.

instead, he'd take seeing samy wear his suit jacket which happened to be the same one he wore when he got a hat trick in one of the last games of the season before u18 worlds coming up. now that suit would just be his lucky one because it definitely brought him good luck. he'd take not kissing her for now if it meant he was at her side all night looking like her boyfriend. the hockey player winked at the camera as he followed samy inside.

TWO (winter of samy's second year of college)

"will, it's snowing!" the youngest hughes exclaimed when she opened the front door. "really?" will yelled and then the door closed again. three minutes later, it reopened and the couple was racing down the steps into the snow.

samy immediately fell onto hr back to start making a snow angel while will balled up the snow in his glove. the brunette was too caught up in her snow angel that she didn't see what her boyfriend was plotting until it was too late and he threw it at her chest.

her eyes widened, "will!"

"sorry, babe," the blonde shrugged and hurried to make more. samy jumped up, eager to fire back at him. she balled up the white powder and gave her best aim as his arm. it landed with an oof.

"don't start something you can't finish," will warned and the girl raised her eyebrow.

"you started it, not me."

will, who had made four, threw them one after the other at his girlfriend. she shrieked, covering her face as they exploded on her arms. the hockey player laughed. "oh, i see how it is. two can play at that game," it was challenge now. samy hurried to make more and so did will.

they began chasing one another through the yard. the ring camera caught glimpses of the couple running by, occasionally getting a shot of will or samy hitting one another with the snowballs.

samy had a pretty killer aim due to her impressive hand-eye-foot coordination. her throws also hurt more than will expected them too. "ow, that hurts babe!" he complained.

"aw, you can't take my snowballs but you can take getting shoved into the boards? how sweet," the youngest hughes threw another one that will failed to dodge.

"not what i meant," will mumbled, struggling to keep up with the amount samy was throwing and making. somehow, she'd gotten a lead on him and anytime he paused to make more, she came around the bushes and took her sweet aim.

"if anyone can hear me, i need backup out here!" will yelled at the camera hoping luke or someone inside happened to take a glance at the feed.

"they can't save you, babe. might as well take your defeat," samy snickered, running after the blonde again when he took off away from her.

someone answered will's prayers because luke came out a second later, laughing when he watched the blonde get pelted by samy. "i heard your call for help," the brunette called.

"please, she's somehow out numbering me," will pleaded and luke quickly ran to join them.

he was quick to ball up a bunch of snowballs and throw them in his sister's direction. she shrieked and ran off to the side of the house. "ha! you're running now!" luke chased after her giving will time to collect himself and stock back up.

the blonde quickly loaded himself with snowballs as he went to find luke and samy. they were off to the side throwing snowballs back and forth at one another when will came in full force with his. he didn't show any mercy as he launched them at the soccer player who was now the one outnumbered.

"okay, okay, truce. please," she begged.

"fine, truce," will agreed and held his hand out. they shook on it meaning the snowball fight was over..for now.

instead, samy made will and luke help her build a snowman. the boys worked to roll up the base and then lifted the middle section up. samy rolled the head up and then they had a snowman. he just needed arms and a face.

"i'll find a hat," luke hurried back inside.

"here, use these branches," will snapped them off one of the trees and stuck them into the sides. the couple found random rocks as the eyes, mouth, and buttons. luke ran back out with an old baseball cap and a carrot for the nose.

"i think he looks cute," samy smiled, admiring their work.

"alright, i'm beat. i'm heading back inside," luke determined and made his way back to the porch. samy and will agreed they should go inside too before they got frost bite or something.

on their way back up to the front porch, will hooked his arm around samy's shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple, "thanks for dragging me out,"

"of course. maybe next time i'll win the snowball fight," she grinned.

"you better wish you will," the blonde said, pinching her arm as he opened the door for her. the ring camera capture their snowman for the next week as it continued snowing and a loving moment they could look back on later.

THREE (the summer samy and will broke up)

it was late when samy opened the door to her house and immediately turned to the ring camera sitting above the door handle. it looked like she'd been crying based on her red and puffy eyes. "hi, it's late i know and no one's probably watching this or ever will, but i just wanted to come out and say i was watching old videos that have been captured on here and it just made me really miss those times," the youngest hughes sniffled a bit.

that was all she wanted to say and she was about to open the door again when a voice talked at her through it, "samy?" it was quinn.

"quinn?" she copied.

"what are you doing? are you okay?" the oldest hughes had gotten the notification on his phone that there was movement detected and he went to check it out, not expecting to see his sister outside.

"oh, yeah. i just..am feeling sad," she admitted with a frown.

"what, why? what's wrong?" yes, he probably should've called her instead of talking through the doorbell like some weirdo, but she was just right there and this felt more convenient than making her get her phone to talk.

"i was watching old ring videos from the past like few years and a lot of them were of me and will and things he did that i didn't even notice after we hung out like smile at the camera or flash a thumbs up and it just made me miss him is all," the brunette explained and quinn frowned even though she couldn't see him.

"pop.."

"it's soo stupid i know. i need to go to sleep," she laughed away the heartbreak she was currently feeling.

"no, it's not stupid. you have every right to feel upset. i'm sorry," the older boy sympathized with her, but the brunette shook her head.

"sorry i woke you up. i just wanted to say that. i'll be fine," she mumbled.

"no, wait. you didn't wake me up, i promise. have you considered reaching out to him or something? to talk more?" quinn stopped her before she could go back inside again.

"he's off doing a bunch of things..i don't wanna bother him. i don't even know what i'd say because i already said what i could to him. it's not like he wants to talk to me anyway. it doesn't even seem like he's hurt by it," samy scoffed a bit.

"he could be just really good at hiding it," quinn pointed out.

"i just really miss him, honestly. this is the first summer we aren't talking or hanging out. it feels so weird being at the lake house without him. i feel like i don't know who i am without him," that made the older boy frown again. he hated seeing and hearing how heartbroken his baby sister was over all of this. he honestly couldn't believe will either.

"pop, you're so amazing with and without will. i know this really sucks, but you're great just on your own. you don't need will with you for you to know that about yourself."

"i know, but i just wish he was here. it's so stupid too because i'd take him back so fast if he asked," the girl laughed a bit more bitterly this time, "that's how much self-respect i lack for myself."

"that doesn't mean you don't have any self-respect, samy. none of this is stupid. you're allowed to feel this way, breakups really hurt, especially when it's with someone you really love and have been friends with for years," the dark-haired boy sympathized with her.

"this is why i thought we shouldn't date because of this exact reason. we break up and it ruins everything about us. we don't even have a friendship anymore," samy frowned.

"are you and quinn talking through the ring camera right now?" the front door opened and a bleary-eyed luke came outside. he had kept getting the notifications about movement on his phone and decided to finally go investigate it.

"yeah, sorry moose. i just got sad, but i'm fine," the younger girl mumbled.

"sad? about what?" luke rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he woke more up.

"missing will," samy admitted and the second youngest frowned.

"i'm sorry, pop. he didn't deserve you," luke pulled her into a hug that made quinn smile on the other side as he watched them. "let's go back inside. it's late and i'm sure talking inside will be better," the curly-haired boy waved to quinn through the camera.

"night q, thanks for talking," samy said.

"night, squirt. love you guys," the older boy said and the two echoed his statement before heading back inside.

FOUR (the small bit of summer left when samy and will get back together)

everything was perfect again. samy and will sat out on the swinging chair watching the sunset together trying to soak up the last few days of summer and finally being back together after a rough summer apart. will's legs were stretched out on the railing that he used to rock them gently back and forth. the brunette was curled into his side, half asleep as will ran her fingers through her hair.

"samy?" the hockey player hummed.

"yeah?" the girl wondered even though her eyes were stil closed.

"i'm sorry for the way things happened this summer. i know i've apologized a million times already and i probably will keep apologizing, but i really am sorry. i feel horrible for treating you like that and nothing i do could probably ever repay that," will was feeling a bit sentimental as he reflected on the past few months and how much of a shitty person he was to the one person that had stuck by his side since the beginning.

samy slowly sat up so they could meet each other's gazes. will's was full of guilt and her heart broke seeing him look at her like that, "will.."

"i know i fucked up, samy. i don't really know why i thought breaking up with you would make things easier because i realized how not easy it is without you around," the blonde continued now close to crying which samy hadn't seen him do often. she quickly put her hand on his face so he'd look at her still.

"it's not gonna be all easy peasy all the time, but we're gonna fix this between us, i promise. we already are. i love you, will. i wanna fix this between us," the girl reassured.

"i really don't deserve you," will mumbled, leaning forward to kiss her palm. she flushed at his affection and used her other hand to drag it through his hair.

"we all do things we don't mean and things we regret. i took you back because i also can't do life without you and i really want you in my life," samy said softly and it eased some of the ache in the hockey player's heart. "let's just enjoy where we are now and the little time we have left until you go to california, yeah?" he quickly nodded and she pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek.

she readjusted so her own legs stretched out to the railing, but her head stayed tucked into the crook of will's neck. he kissed the top of her head, resting his own atop hers.

"you're gonna be a big shot hockey player and i can't wait to watch you chase your dreams all over again," samy mumbled.

"i really couldn't have done it without you. you showed up for me and helped prove to me i could do it," he squeezed her hand where they were intertwined.

as the sun set, the couple shared a passionate kiss that told each other everything words couldn't convey. the heartbreak turned into only love and they chose to believe that things were definitely going to be okay between them.

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bked0n-lorazepam · 8 months ago

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"Prom Gone Wrong"

“I’m not showing too much cleavage, am I?” I ask my friend Cassy, pulling up on the silky red dress I was wearing to cover my breasts. It was prom day, the same day I was dreading since Ollie asked me to go with him.

Don’t get me wrong, going out in a beautiful dress was my dream since I was a little girl. It was just the fact that I didn’t want to go with Ollie.

He wasn’t my type, and he was known for not actually dancing with girls at prom and taking them in a janitor’s closet to fuck them instead. He’s never piqued my interest, but since nobody else asked me to go, I accepted.

“Honey, you look gorgeous! Let those girls free, the world needs to see how hot you are.” Cassy said before throwing her head back and taking a shot, her favorite thing to do before a party. I nervously smiled at her and fixed my hair before leaving the bathroom.

“Yeah, I just don’t want that creepy English teacher to dress-code me.” I walked to my vanity and sat down on the stool, pulling out a tube of lipgloss from my purse and applying it to my lips.

Cassy shrugged and sat down on my bed, bending over to put her black heels on. “If he looks at you weirdly, I’ll beat his 62 year old ass.”

“Thanks, Cassy.” I roll my eyes and laugh, reaching forward on the vanity to open my jewelry box. When I did, a polaroid of me and an old friend fell out of it, and I picked it up and stared at it.

Me and him used to live in the same neighborhood before I had to move away, and we were the greatest of friends. Sure, he was a bit of an oddball, but it never deterred me from him. We grew apart, though, and went our separate ways throughout highschool. Now that we were both seniors and could attend the senior-only school dance, I had a small amount of hope that he’d ask me. I wasn’t sure why, but I just did.

“All right. I think we’re ready.” Cassy stood up and smoothed out her dark green dress in my full length mirror, and shortly after putting the photo away I did as well. “Let’s go dance.”

–

The DJ was playing Again by Noah Cyrus when we arrived, and the lights in the cafeteria room were red. That seemed to be the theme as Cassy and I walked around trying to find our dates. It took a couple of minutes for her to find West, and she bid me goodbye while interlocking her arm with his.

It was well into the night and I couldn’t find Ollie, and I had accepted the fact that he probably stood me up for another girl. I was leaning against one of the tables that held fruit punch, and I downed the last drops of the drink in my cup before deciding to step away from the ear-damaging crowd.

Making my way out of the cafeteria, I sighed when I walked out of the doors and entered the empty hallway. The sound of all the others were muffled, and the only thing that you could hear were the soft tapping of my heels.

Wandering aimlessly through the quiet highschool, I walked past one of the closets in a darker part of the building. A loud thump against the door and a couple of moans told me all I needed to know, and I scoffed at their lack of decency.

“That’s it, take this big dick!” I stopped in my tracks when I recognized his voice.

Ollie.

Now, I know I had tried to convince myself earlier in the night that he did in fact stand me up, but a part of myself also didn’t quite believe it. I had thought of multiple excuses he could’ve had, and even though this one had the biggest chance, it still hurt.

Was I not good enough? Not pretty enough? I still would’ve turned him down if he asked for sex, but why didn’t he even try?

Spirals of thoughts turned and twisted in my head as I continued walking around the school, except this time I had a place I wanted to go. Me and my old friend used to hang around the place after hours when we were younger, and there was a girls bathroom that was supposed to get renovated decades ago. Of course, the school board never got around to it, so it was a good place to skip and hide away in. It was on the second floor of the school, directly above the cafeteria.

A remix of 180 by Bastián and Glory Box by Portishead seeped into my ears as I opened the door, and it continued to echo around when it closed. It was a larger bathroom than the others, and I walked up to the mirror that took up half of the wall. There were scarce lights, so it was rather dim around the other areas of the room.

I looked at my face and touched up on any makeup that faded, and then took my hair out of the low bun it was in. I played around with my hair, and scratched at my head, softly moaning at the self-massage I was doing.

I froze when I heard the door creak and close, and then I locked eyes with the intruder in the mirror.

“Patrick?” I muttered, spinning around to face him. He wore a black suit with a red undershirt and a black tie, and I made a small note that the same color matched my dress. His hair was slightly tousled, and a stranded curl rested on his forehead.

We both took in the sight of each other before I cleared my throat.

“What are you doing here?” I tilted my head, staring into his green eyes.

“‘Could ask you the same thing.” He stated simply and started a low stride towards me, his eyes roaming over my body once again. It made me feel bare, to be on such a display for him. I remembered how low chested my dress was and pulled it up nervously, and even in the dim lights I could see his smile.

Patrick had always towered over me in height, and he took advantage of it now while circling me. I folded my hands in front of me and played with fingers as he did, waiting for him to be done with his inspection.

“Well, don’t you look pretty.” He stopped in front of me and grinned. It was obvious that I was nervous, even a blind person could see it. I hadn’t talked to him since middle school, and seeing him now intimidated me in a way.

“‘Could say the same thing to you.” Shrugging, I turn around to look at myself in the mirror again.

Patrick huffed out a laugh and stepped behind me, placing his hands on my waist. Being so close to him made my breath hitch, but I couldn’t let him know. I pretended it didn’t affect me and pulled out my lip gloss, reapplying it to my lips. It was red and shimmery, which was one of the reasons I had chosen it out of the many others in my purse. The other reason was that I knew it was his favorite.

When we were in middle school, my mom had bought it for me for my birthday. Patrick and I were hanging out one day, and I had decided to put it on because I thought it was pretty. He of course noticed, and asked me a simple question that led him to be my first kiss.

“Can I try some on?” Patrick whispered in my ear, his thumb rubbing circles on my hip. I froze again, and put the applicator back in the tube. I locked eyes with him again in the mirror, and he kissed at the spot on my neck below my right ear. His soft but chapped lips caused goosebumps to run all over my body, and a warm feeling to form in my stomach.

“Well?” His rough voice sent shivers down my spine, and I turned around and backed away from him. He stepped forward towards me, and the cycle repeated until my back hit the edge of one of the sinks. I swallowed down the lump in my throat that caused me to be silent, but before I could speak, he did instead.

“Jump.” It barely registered in my brain what he wanted me to do, but it clicked when his hands grabbed my waist and lifted me onto the sink. My legs wrapped around his hips, and my arms went around his neck.

I didn’t think before I did, but before I knew it my lips were on his. It was sloppy, hungry, but it fit with how we felt. I grabbed at the hair on the base of his neck and he grabbed at the red fabric of my dress.

We didn’t pull away from each other, but probably for different reasons. I had a thing for Patrick since I’ve known him, and I didn’t want to pull away and have him disappear again.

I didn’t know why he was so frantic like me, though. Maybe he felt the same, or maybe it’s all a heat of the moment kind of thing. Whatever it was, I didn’t want it to end.

Patrick’s hand moved slyly up and down my body, and mine stayed in his hair. I always liked how long it was, it matched his face shape well. And since he hated going to the barber, it worked out for the both of us.

I whimpered when his fingers pinched my thighs, and finally pulled away to breathe while he smiled at my reaction. We both panted and looked at each other, eyes filled to the brim with lust. Patrick licked his swollen lips, tasting the flavor of the gloss.

“Cherry?” He asked with a toothy grin.

I nodded breathlessly, my mouth dryer than a desert. “Your favorite.”

He hummed and pulled me in for another kiss, even more eager than the last. My hands left his hair and roamed down to undo his tie, and I cursed into the kiss when I couldn’t get the knot undone. Patrick snickered and reached his hands up to do it himself, my own hands cupping his face.

When he took the tie off, he pulled my hands away and placed it in them. Confused as to why he was pulling away, I opened my mouth to ask, but stopped immediately.

He kneeled in front of me, mischief flooding his green eyes. Patrick grabbed my legs and spread them, and he kissed at my ankle. He continued his charade of leaving marks all over and up my left leg before switching to the right one.

His hands roamed behind me to pull me closer to the edge of the porcelain sink, and then they moved back down to the insides of my thighs.

They reached up for my underwear, and he didn’t even need to tell me to lift my hips. It was like an automatic response to his touch, one that I couldn’t help. He noticed as well, and swiftly pulled down the damp red fabric and threw it aside.

“You’ve got quite the theme goin’, huh toots?” He laughed and placed a kiss on each of my knees. I ticked my tongue and lightly tapped his side with my red heel, urging him to hurry up.

“I like to match.” I lean back onto the sink and run my fingers through my hair, biting my lip as he shuffles closer to me.

His eyes were trained on mine, and he lifted up my dress, disappearing under the silk. I gasped when he blew air on my groin, and threw my head back when I felt his tongue on me.

Patrick ate like a starved man eating his last meal, not even coming up to take a breath. His hands held my thighs apart so that they didn’t clamp around his head, and all that could be heard throughout the bathroom were my moans and the soft sound of music.

Panting and gasping when he sucked on just the right spot, my fingers went under my dress and tightened themselves around his hair. He groaned into my cunt, and that was what threw me over the edge.

“Patrick, I’m gonna-” He didn’t let me finish my sentence and his thumb on my clit, rubbing it in just the right way to make me scream his name.

He let me ride my high, slowing down a bit, but not stopping. I whined and tried to tug his head away, but he didn’t let up. Finally, after a couple of complaints, he pulled back, leaving a few last licks and standing up.

His face was stained and shiny, and he wiped it away on his sleeve. Embarrassed, I looked away while he did. He took off his blazer, and grabbed my chin. He kissed me once again, and the warm feeling came back shortly. He grasped my hands in his and guided them towards his shirt, and I caught on. I unbuttoned it and he tossed it away from us, ignoring my grumbles of how dirty the floor probably is.

Patrick unbuckled his belt and let it drop, and then unbuttoned his pants. He pulled them down just enough to where he could let his cock out, and once again pulled me closer to him. Wrapping my legs around him and putting my face into his shoulder, he started to align himself with my entrance before I yelped,

“Condom! Use a condom.” I pulled away from his shoulder and looked at him, my concerned expression opposite of his unamused one. He rolled his eyes and started rocking himself against me, sliding in and out of my folds.

I moaned loudly and grabbed his shoulder, covering my mouth with my other hand. Patrick smirked and went faster, a knowing look on his face.

“Still want a condom?” He asked, and I shook my head with doubt.

Patrick was smug as he lined himself up again, and his lips caught my whine as he thrusted inside slowly. He kept going until he bottomed out all the way, and he cursed the whole time.

“Fuck. Ease up on me, dollface. You’re real fucking tight.” He groaned, and pulled out almost all the way. I whined and scratched at his back, and he rammed himself back in. The process repeated, and the bathroom was filled with moans and swears once again.

I could feel him twitch inside me, indicating that he was close. I had already come twice around him, and was crying at the overstimulation.

“Patrick, it’s too much.” I cried against his neck.

“I know, fucking hell, I know. Just a little longer, you can do it. Just give me one more, baby.” He reached his hand down and thumbed at my clit, making me fall off the edge once again. The constriction around him made him moan loudly and pull out of me, leaving a mess all over my thighs.

We sat there for a couple minutes, breathing in each other's air. I leaned my head back against the sink’s mirror and stared at him as he stepped away to pick up his tie, wiping away the white liquid on me with it. He tucked himself back into his pants, put his belt on, and the rest of his clothes. He threw the tie into the small, empty trashcan to the left of us and kissed me.

Patrick didn’t pull away until we both couldn’t breathe, and then he stepped away from me, and walked to the door.

“Eleven PM tomorrow, here.” He opened the door and walked out.

Patrick left me alone with my thoughts, and I stayed sitting on the sink for a while longer. Thinking over my night and what he and I were now, I realized that we were still at the school dance, and that I had to find Cassy and drive her home.

#x reader #fem reader #patrick hocksetter x reader #patrick hockstetter #pennywise #stephen king #it #smut #patrick hockstetter smut #patrick hockstetter x reader smut

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mimikila · 4 months ago

Text

10 things I hate love about you

a/n: Hey! So this is my first fanfic here, english is not my first language so I apologize for any mistake. If you have any questions, ask in the comments and I will clarify!

Synopsis: You hate most teenagers. Seungmin is one of them, and he also has a terrible habit with betting. What happens when he loses a bet and is forced to take you to the prom?

+40k words

pairing: bad boy!Seungmin x hater!Reader

Inspired by "10 things I hate about you"

TW: fem!reader, comedy, dirty jokes, bad words, angst, comfort, dick!Yeonjun (srry), stupid!Seungmin, Y/N is a hater of everyone, kind of enemies to lovers, mentions of sex (nothing explicit), drugs, mentions of getting drunk, partys. (let me know if i forgot somenthing)

You were never one to do things for the sake of others. She hates following what's in trending, hates teenagers who don't have their own personality, hates those who have sex for fun, hates couples who are together just to not be alone and hates even more those who stop doing what they want just to fit in somewhere.

Obviously she hates school. Okay, not exactly school. But the place surrounded by teenagers with raging hormones, there was exactly what you didn't like.

"When will you finally agree to go out with me, sweetie?" Choi Yeonjun's provocative voice sounded in her ears. Wonderful, just what I needed this morning. She thinks.

"Maybe in one of my darkest nightmares." she answers him without even looking into the redhead's eyes, more interested to remove the books needed for the next class from your locker.

"Come on, you don't have to be so annoying all the time." Yeonjun follows her as she walks to her room, his usual playful face only making her angrier. "But apparently you do." She quickens her pace before he even gives up following her with an irritated smile and a roll of his eyes.

The girl sits at her desk when she arrives in the classroom, her best - and only - friend, Yunjin, the person she still supported in that place, was a year younger, therefore, from a different class, which made her completely alone during the classes.

Excellent. Just the way she liked it.

The literature teacher was saying something that probably only you were listening to when the class is interrupted by a late student.

All the bored students turn their heads towards the sound of the door opening as a way to escape the monotony of class. "Sorry, I'm late. I was.. uhm-" he scratches the back of his head trying his best to think of a good excuse. again. "Smoking in the back hallway? That's new." The teacher says ironically, before pointing out, what he automatically understood, After all, it wouldn't be the first time he ended up in the principal's office.

Kim Seungmin.

a summary of everything you most hated, Impressionable. His addiction to tobacco and his obvious presence at almost every party was visible to anyone. He was different from Yeonjun however, even though they seemed to sympathize with each other. Silent, perhaps because he had nothing smart to say. He wore only dark clothes with thick leather jackets and spent most of his breaks with the group of punks who use drugs and listen to exaggeratedly loud music behind the school. He interrupted classes with stupid questions just to make others laugh and took part in surreal bets for pure entertainment. Getting into fights over a pack of cigarettes, skipping classes, going to detention, you're sure he just doesn't have a longer body count because girls are afraid of him.

In other words, a complete asshole.

Your thought is interrupted when some laughter came from the other students as soon as Seungmin was kicked out of the room. You roll your eyes before raising your hand to interrupt the teacher's speech. "Do you always have to have an opinion about everything?" he sighs as he sat at his desk at the front of the room. This would be a long class.

"I told you, if you couldn't stay away from the board for a week you would lose." Yeonjun laughs playfully along with some of his friends.

"It didn't count this time, it wasn't even because of a fight. I was just late." Seungmin mumbles before inhaling his cigarette, not finding the things amusing at all.

"Without specifics, a trip to the board is a trip to the board." Yeonjun says with that damn smile. bastard. Seungmin thinks.

"Fine, damn it." Seungmin stubs out his cigarette on the wall he was leaning against with an irritated sigh. "What do you want?" he crosses his arms while looking at Yeonjun with a frown, already deeply regretting this fucking challenge.

"Um... I don't know, but I'll definitely think about it." His laugh is cut off as Yeonjun's gaze catches you passing through the yard.

The student council girl runs towards her as soon as she sees her approaching one of the prom posters, but she doesn't get there fast enough before she rips it off the wall and crushes it with one hand.

"Pathetic tradition." you mutter to yourself while walking to meet Yunjin.

Bingo.

"I think I've thought enough." Yeonjun close his eyes with a smirk and Seungmin can feel a shiver just for of what awaited him. "Look." Yeonjun turns Kim around while holding his shoulders, before pointing at the two girls who were chatting carelessly.

"Yunjin? I was expecting worse than that." Seungmin crosses his arms in front of his chest, watching the pretty girl let out a laugh.

"No, no. No Yunjin, look closer." Yeonjun already laughs, amused by what he had prepared for the Doberman boy.

"I'll pass." Seungmin turns around before starting to walk - run away - from the red-haired guy. "you have no choice! last month I went on a date with Seo Shin-ae because of that bet, without complaining!" Yeonjun chases him before Seungmin himself stopped running with a sigh.

"What do I have to do?" He crosses his arms as he glares at the taller guy furiously. "Take her to the prom." Yeonjun says without thinking twice, with the same shitty smile. "I'll. pass."

"You have no choice." In any normal situation, Seungmin could just give up that bet, he might not have even made it in the first place. But that would be too much for his ego and fragile masculinity. "Fine."

"Hah, you're gonna die." Yeonjun scoffs, knowing very well who Seungmin would have to deal with. "I hope so." Those are his last words before storming out of the school yard, seconds before the break alarm goes off.

Sweat poured down your face as you breathed heavily. You crawl tiredly to the benches next to the field to get a bottle of water, opening it and pouring a good amount into your mouth and face.

What a wonderful sight. Seungmin thinks with a disgusted expression. Sighing, he accepts his fate as he puts a smile on his face as he approaches the bench of the women's soccer team members.

"Hey, how are you?" He asks with his seductive and carefree tone, resting one of his hands on the back of the seat and using the other to brush his bangs out of the eyes. Obviously acting charming.

She stares at him with a frown and almost the same look of disgust he gave her a few seconds ago. "Sweaty like a pig." You tighten the bottle cap without even looking at him.

this girl...

He forces his best laugh as he bites his bottom lip, part of it because he was punishing himself for such humiliation.

"at 22:30"

"what?" She finally looks at him, part of her bangs obstructing her vision before she tries to tuck them behind her ear, to no avail. “Go out with me” Seungmin says as if she had already accepted. She scoffs.

"Lost another bet, Kim?" You smile before starting to walk off the field. Seungmin smiles just knowing that she knew his name. "Is it so difficult to imagine that someone wants your company out of pure and spontaneous desire?" He scoffs back, following her. This is familiar.

“If that someone is you, or Yeonjun, or any of your little bitch friends, yes, it is.” You waste no time looking at him as you grabbed your backpack from the floor.

"You're pretty."

"Is that your only reason?"

"It's just a damn date!" Seungmin he finally stops chasing her, watching her continue running away without even checking in on him.

"I'll pass." He bites his lower lip at the familiarity of those words, sighing irritably as he runs his hand through his bangs in a failed attempt to calm himself.

"You're cooked." He hears the voice of his friend, Jeongin.

One year younger, handsome, sweet and stylish, but for some reason he was adopted by the group of crazy smoking punks. Your words.

The blonde followed the entire scene while eating a bag of potatoes fries, enjoying the torture of his almost brother and best friend.

"Oh, really?" Seungmin scoffs, still looking at the way where you went, before turning to his friend and dropping his bag of potatoes on the floor.

"Are you stalking me?" You get out of your marine blue Chevrolet, a small gift from your father that you got last year. Her usual anger was ever present in her voice.

"Are you that cocky?" Seungmin responds with his annoyingly pretty smile. She crosses her arms, unconvinced by his answer. He sighs in defeat.

"I was at the bar across the street, saw your car and wanted to say hi." He feels like a little child finding excuses to his angry parents.

"Well, you already said. Bye." She says before going her own way, leaving him behind awkwardly. He sighs again.

Seungmin starts to feel hopeless when he sees Yeonjun park his convertible right behind her car, purposely blocking her path. "Any lucky today?"

Seungmin just gives him the middle finger before the redhead get out of his car and walk past him. Perfect timing for you to exit the grocery store and see your car stuck between the sidewalk and Yeonjun's stupidly expensive vehicle. "You've got to be kidding...."

A dented car and Seungmin serving as an alibe for Yeonjun's complaint against her for purposely reversing her car.

He was lost.

It has never been so difficult to please some girl. You were openly a hater of everything and everyone around you. He sighs. Ever since he tried to ask her out, he's been sighing more than he has in his entire life.

"I need your help." The brunette crosses his arms on the lunch table. Jeongin looks up at him, his eyebrows raised. "That's crazy, huh?"

Seungmin rolls his eyes.

"She just doesn't like men." He says sulking.

"Maybe she just doesn't like you."

"Hardly. Anyway, how would I know what she likes?" Jeongin exchanges looks with Seungmin before saying. "I have an idea."

“Kim Seungmin wants to go out with Y/N?” Yunjin frowns in confusion, the duo in front of her sighing. "Kind of-"

"He wants to." Jeongin corrects. Yunjin and he weren't exactly friends, but they had a common class, which made them exchange some polite pleasantries. "He needs help because he doesn't seem to have a chance with her."

"It's not like I don't have-"

"What does she like?" Jeongin maintains the conversation with Yunjin, ignoring Seungmin's interruptions, making him scoff and cross his arms like a grumpy child. "Does she even like guys?" The oldest rolls his eyes.

"She likes handsome guys, she has a poster of Gong Yoo in her room." Yunjin explains with a giggle, remembering the times she frequented your room. Seungmin thinks about how much easier it would be to have to hang out with her and not you.

The blonde boy looks briefly at his friend with furrowed eyebrows, the older one raises an eyebrow at him. "You're not that bad." Jeongin tries to convince himself with a little smile. "Now you..."

"She doesn't like smokers, or loud or quarrelsome guys." The girl with blue hair starts to score while looking at Seungmin, looking more and more hopeless. "But if it makes you feel better, she thinks your smile is pretty."

"My smile?"

"His smile??"

Seungmin elbows Jeongin who complains audibly. "Yes, she said something like..." Yunjin searches her memory, trying to remember what you had said to her a few days ago.

"He won't leave me alone, he thinks I'm stupid for believing that it's not just another bet between him and Yeonjun." You flip through the page of the old fashion magazine you had for years now, sighing nervously as you vent to Yunjin.

"Maybe it's not a bet, why don't you just agree to go out with him and find out?" The younger girl seemed much more focused on filing her nails than actually talking. "He irritates me! Always showing that...damn. pretty. smile. He knows it's pretty and that's the most annoying thing." You closed the magazine irritably, lifting your head from the pillow as you used your hands aggressively to prove your point.

"He annoys you or turns you on?" Yunjin teases, finally looking at you. "It takes a lot more than a smile to turn me on, believe me. And he's a complete asshole, his bangs are ridiculous and he's not interesting at all." You turn your attention back to the magazine as you lay back on the bed.

"That's a begining." Jeongin always optimistic.

"My bangs aren't ridiculous!" Seungmin stands up irritably before being pulled down again by his friend.

"Okay, okay. We need to know what she likes. Books, music, hobbies.." The blonde takes his attention back to Yunjin, who was listening attentively.

"She likes feminist poetry." Seungmin rolls his eyes. "She loves music, she goes to the music store almost every day to play the piano, even though she never buy one." Yunjin smiles as she thinks about what her friend liked, probably the only person who really supports her.

"She bought tickets for Mitski too."

"And what the fuck is that exactly?" Seungmin closes his eyes. He hated the fact that a small bet was taking up so much of his days.

"Music for melancholy teenage girls with mommy issues." Jeongin responds, receiving a pout from Yunjin. "The show is this Saturday, maybe you show up and she ends up seeing you? It would make you more interesting in her eyes."

"No way, what would people think of me if they saw me there?" Seungmin leans his back against the bench while crossing his arms in front of him. "Do you want the gal or not?" the youngest raises an eyebrow at him.

Melancholic teenage girls, just like

Jeogin said. Seungmin felt watched as he entered the bar where the show was taking place, he looked both ways to make sure he didn't know anyone there.

You hummed and swayed your body from side to side with Yunjin very close to the stage, stopping to touch your friend's ear and shout so she could hear. "I'm going to get something to drink!"

She walked through the small huddled crowd at the front of the stage, muttering a few apologies to get closer to the bar. "a bloody marry, please!" You say, loud enough for the bartender to hear.

She downs the drink in one go, feeling the unusual burn in her throat as she swallows. "I didn't know you drank." The inconveniently familiar voice makes her roll her eyes.

"What are you doing here? Do you know Mitski?" She asks, now looking at him, noticing him there for the first time.

"And who doesn't?" He says, finishing his drink, before standing up and walking into the crowd. right, acting disinterested.

She follows him out of pure curiosity, she justifies herself . "And since when do you consume indie music?" She scoffs as she approaches him.

"Ah. that's my favorite one." Seungmin ignores her before humming the lyrics from 'Your best American girl'. She scoffs again, not believing it for a second.

"Are you high?"

"No, I stopped smoking, they say it's bad for your health, right?" He looks at her for the first time, or at least the first time she's noticed. "Oh, really..? good for you then." you speak awkwardly, running out of things to respond. He smiles to himself. Victory.

"And if I may say so, you're pretty when you are not wearing the same pair of jeans as always." Seungmin teases with that sideways smile again, now he knew she liked it.

"Hah, you think so?" She tries to mock him even though she feels a pang of embarrassment at the compliment. "You also look... acceptable, with your bangs swept back." He rolls his eyes at her attempt at a compliment.

"Thanks?" He jokes and she laughs, for the first time time looking genuine. Point for him.

"You know... You're not that uninteresting." He arches an eyebrow. "So will you go with me to the party tomorrow?" Seungmin wastes no time and she rolls her eyes.

"Party? What party?" She asks, showing no interest however. She was now missing a great song to be talking to him.

"Changbin, the rich producer who studied at our school." He smiles as he realizes he hasn't been rejected yet.

"This guy doesn't even study there anymore and he still invites that bunch of teenagers?" The girl asks rhetorically, he sighs.

"Do you always talk like a grandma?" He bites his lower lip. Was this a habit of his? Damn habit. "Most of the time."

He rolls his eyes, grabbing one of her hands to spin her to the beat of the music. Even though 'Nobody' didn't go with dancing. "You really need to learn how to socialize."

She feels something in her stomach that she hasn't felt in a long time. "I have to study."

"Then I'll pick you up at nine."

"You don't know where I live."

"I'll figure it out."

She rolls her eyes as he walks away, probably leaving after getting what he wants. You sigh before walking back closer to Yunjin.

"Why did I agree with this?" You mutter a little to yourself as you both enter the large house.

"Because I asked you to." Seungmin was right behind her as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She mocks his response before entering the much acclaimed 'party'.

He sees Yeonjun in the middle of some girls, his smile disappears as soon as he looks at the guy with his arm around her neck and Seungmin smiles victoriously. Yeonjun clenches his jaw, something about him being able to get close to you so easily made him... jealous? He scoffs before turning his attention back to Lia, or whatever the name of the girl in front of him was.

You really don't know how you ended up here.

On top of the main table swaying to the music of some pop singer you hate it, while a bunch of teenagers supported you to continue.

"She really came." Seungmin wakes up when he hears Jeongin's voice next to him, with a bag of potatoes in his hand as he watches the entire scene. He has deja vú.

The brunette sighs irritably before approaching the table. "Okay, okay the show is over, you're drunk." He tries hard to get you off the 'stage', with you complaining while you get down from the place. "You need some air." He raises his eyebrows in a lament, before dragging her to the porch of the house.

"I... I'm... great, I just need- one more drink..." She mumbles drunkenly as she reaches out to steal the drink from someone else, who quickly dodges her and walks away irritably.

"I would never imagine that someone like you would drink so much like this." Seungmin scoffs before placing her near the stone fences for support. "Isn't that what you guys do at parties?" She mutters with a few strands of hair stuck to her lip gloss, throwing all her weight on the marble piece right below her.

"There's hair in your mouth." The boy teases her before taking one of his hands to look for the strands stuck to her lips, his gaze focused on the movement. before he raises the focus to her eyes.

The party music seems to fade away as he stares into your eyes, his hand drops to your chin and he doesn't seem to want to break his gaze.

"I can see my reflection in your eyes." She says in a sigh, and he bites his bottom lip with a smile.

Seungmin gets closer to her face, and for half a second, he forgot about that bet. His attention too focused on her long eyelashes and then on her parted lips. He starts to close his eyes before being abruptly stopped when she pulls away from him and turns to the other side with a groan, letting everything she consumed at the party out.

The boy scratches the back of his head with a sigh, embarrassed by his own actions as he remembers seconds ago. "Come on, let's go home."

You can't remember the last time you laughed this much, it seemed like everything Seungmin said was funny.

"Wait a minute, you sing?" You ask in surprise.

"I've been singing since I was nine" He replies, focusing on driving.

"Show me." The girl says with bright eyes, still a little drunk.

"No."

"Come on! Show me, I want to hear it." She whimpers.

"I don't sing in front of people." Seungmin has a pout surprisingly cute on the face.

"Oh, are you shy?" Y/N quips with a giggle.

"I am." He laughs back, before stopping the car right in front of her house. "You're at home."

She looks out the window, seeing the place she grew up in, but at the moment it didn't seem like where she wanted to be. She turns to him again. "Thank you for inviting me, after all you're not that bad."

"This may have been the best compliment you've ever given me." He scoffs with a smile, one hand still resting on the steering wheel of the car and the other going to run through his bangs, he suddenly remembers that he was wearing his hair as usual. "Oh, I forgot to comb my bangs back today."

"It looks good like this." You respond faster than you intended. "You said it looked ridiculous." He laughs when he remembers, biting the lower lip.

"What? I never said that." raising an eyebrow in confusion, looking at him with a small smile.

"Right, you never said that." He quickly corrects himself, the two stare at each other in silence before bursting into laughter at the same time.

Everything felt right, laughing in the passenger seat right next to Seungmin, who was smiling just like you. Is this real?

Their laughter subsides as their eyes lock again, the previous tension returning as their gazes lock onto each other. You are the first to approach this time, leaving your face just inches from his as you close your eyes. He was going to do the same before a pang of guilt stopped him, and he sighs. Why can't I just be a selfish bastard like always? He thinks before pulling away and looking ahead of the road.

"It's late, you should come in." Seungmin murmurs in a sigh and you open your eyes, but he refuses to look at you. You scoff.

"You're unbelievable." She mocks before quickly taking off her belt, opening the car door and getting out without looking back, entering her house.

What was his problem?

"What have you done now?" Jeongin asks with a frown, the two of them sitting in the stands of the big football field while Seungmin asked the younger boy for advice. How ironic.

"Nothing, that's the problem." Seungmin sighs, looking at the field only to see you playing along with the rest of the team. "She was drunk, I didn't want to.." He can't finish his sentence.

"When did you become so moralistic?" Jeongin scoffs. "You know what? I don't know!" the brunette takes hands to his face, frustrated.

"Look, whatever happened, go out there and apologize." The blonde crosses his arms while rolling his eyes. "Why are you assuming I'm the one who fucked up?"

"And it wasn't?" Seungmin doesn't respond. Jeongin sighs. "Wait a day for her to calm down and then put your ego aside and humble yourself for forgiveness." The brunette makes a face at him before looking at the field. to see her again.

You were furious, and everyone in that camp had already noticed. Dribbling an adversary and knocking down another as if she were playing rugby, kicking the ball into the goal with so much force that the goalkeeper didn't even try to catch it, ducking to save his life.

"Two days, I will wait two days." Seungmin says as he stared at the entire scene in horror.

"Yeah, that's better." The blonde does the same. "By the way, I'm dating Yunjin now" Jeongin smiles proudly, his eyes closing in the process.

"Huh? since when?" Seungmin brings his attention back to the shorter one.

"Since the party, we kissed and now we're going out ." He explains with his nose in the air.

"Where did you kiss?"

"In the car, after I dropped her off at home."

....

A sigh.

"Okay I guess I have class now." Seungmin doesn't wait for a response before walking off the field, leaving a confused and offended Jeongin.

Seungmin would definitely regret this.

Bribing the people at the radio club wasn't that difficult. A few grams of the most popular weed of the moment was enough for him to have his ten minutes of fame. The band was the hardest part, but luckily he had a close friend, Han Jisung, who coincidentally was captain of the orchestra.

Done.

You were training on the football field like every wednesday, when you hear the loud speakers echoing. Weird. Is the school on fire?

"Uriga nanun...

Gin siganmankeum neureonan gidaeneun"

A song..? A strangely familiar male voice. You and the rest of the team stop to pay attention.

"Eojjeomyeon dang-yeonhaljido molla.."

Try again. It was a beautiful song, yes, but why out of nowhere?

"Sumaneun oechimdo"

She looks around as do the rest of the people in the field.

"Seoroui mamen dachi motan chae"

...

"Geureoke heulleogagido haetjiman."

Your gaze finally meets his, sitting at the very top of the stands, he is surprisingly looking straight at you. You bite your lip to contain your smile. "Unbelievable..."

"So whenever you ask me again how I feel..."

The school orchestra plays it when the chorus starts, you look around, it was hard to believe. Am I in a romantic comedy?

"Please remember my answer is you."

You smile at him and he smiles back as he sings the words. His voice was so beautiful. You knew good singers, but this was different. She felt like he was singing for her.

"Meon gireul dasi doraganda haedo"

He looks away from her only to see Lady Shin, better known as Miss Principal, walking towards him.

"Nan yeojeonhi gateun mamil tenikka."

Seungmin continues singing until the older woman approaches him.

"We'll be alright, I want to try again."

He takes a final bow before following the nervous lady inside the school, managing to hear the applause of everyone watching.

Seungmin looks away from the director who was scolding him, as usual, looking at you again, with a sideways smile as he waved softly at her. You smile with a nod, still in disbelief. You wanted to be mad at him, you wanted to think it was just a challenge from him and Yeonjun and then ignore him completely. But Kim Seungmin was trying hard to get into her heart.

He will be the death of you.

"Miss Y/N, What are you doing here?" The voice of the detention teacher awakens Seungmin from the moon world. The boy quickly looks towards the door, to see you standing there with a half smile.

"Detention, sir. Arguing with a teacher." She explains herself without any remorse. He bites his lower lip to contain the smile. You definitely did it on purpose.

"Sure, sit down." The teacher says, and she does so when she finds a place next to him.

"You're a good singer." Another point for him.

"So I'm forgiven?" Seungmin supports his chin with one hand and smiles softly.

"Yeah, I guess so." She responds without looking at him, opening one of her books to appear uninterested. He smiles.

"Let's go to karaoke." Seungmin follows you down the halls to your locker. He's been getting more clingy. Sitting with you at lunch and unconsciously kicking Yunjin out, walking you home, 'helping' you with your homework in the library, but really just staring at you while you write.

Seungmin told himself that he was just trying hard for the bet, but the blunt truth is that he didn't even remember that anymore. He's gotten used to smoking just one cigarette before bed, and waking up early to take a shower to make sure you don't smell the smoke. He read more books than he had ever read in his entire life and to be honest, Mitski's music wasn't that bad. Jeongin makes fun of him, knowing his friend well enough to know that this wasn't all to prove his masculinity to Yeonjun. The fact is that he likes you.

"I can't sing." You laugh at him, trying your best to shove all of your notebooks inside the small school locker. "Well, I know." He scoffs back, that smile never leaving his lips as he leans his head against the locker next to you.

"Have you lost your shyness?" You finally closes it and leans against the door, looking directly at him now.

"I think serenading you in front of half the school helped me with that." He scoffs, his voice a few tones lower than normal, his gaze never leaving yours before he reaches up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Let's go to karaoke then." You try changing his attention out of pure embarrassment, feeling your cheeks burn as you turn away from the metal lockers, walking to your next class. "But don't make fun of me."

"I can't promise that."

"Your task is to redo this little Shakespeare poem. You have until class before the ball to do it." Old Professor Jin says with a yawn.

Right. The bail.

Suddenly Seungmin remember your initial purpose. He sighs. He obviously wanted to take you to the prom, but not because of the bet, no, he wanted to take you because he wanted to have you around, he didn't want anyone else, he wanted you.

The boy looks at her only to see her absently playing with a colored pen, for the first time you seemed disconnected from the class. What were you thinking? He smiles foolishly.

Singing wasn't your strong point, you loved music, but you preferred to stick to instruments. She was certainly leaving her comfort zone when she agreed to go to karaoke with Seungmin.

After the second song, where Seungmin made her sure he wouldn't make fun of her for her voice, she feels at ease. The two sang together, Seungmin introducing his voice whenever he felt it was necessary. - whenever she would go out of tune -, and she was grateful for that. Something about her laughing and him talking nonsense in between lyrics made her feel at home, almost like she'd known him for years. How long have they been talking? a month? maybe a month and a half? She's not sure. But it already felt like an eternity.

"Only? Do you want to tell me something or.." Seungmin makes fun of her song choice, she just laughs in return. "It's a beautiful song." You respond and he nods.

"Be my only one"

You sing, Seungmin doesn’t interrupt. He looks at her with puppy eyes as he watched her mouth move to the melody of the song, he wasn't really listening, too distracted by whatever it was right now. Her eyes shine as she reads the lyrics on the monitor, the light from the TV illuminating her entire body. Every detail of her face being analyzed by him. Her big eyelashes, her hair that fell a little on her face and her full lips that moved as the song went by. Ah, those lips. He then remembers when he was so close to them that he could feel their breath caress his face.

"Now I believe"

Y/N turns her gaze to him when she notices him being very silent. Right. The karaoke.

"A song called la la la la"

Seungmin sings with her, his voice drawn out by the small laugh he let out when he remembered that the song existed.

"You who searched and searched and wandered"

The monitor was forgotten as He looked into your eyes, you tried your best to remember the lyrics that always played on the radio when you drove back home.

"My, oh my, oh my, oh, my love"

The feeling of everything being blurry returns when the two maintain eye contact, she watching her reflection in Seungmin's eyes and he trying hard not to kiss her at that moment. How did she end up here? With the kind of guy she hated, in a 12 square meter room, singing, looking into his eyes with the greatest sexual tension she'd ever felt.

"Be my only love"

He gives up, As soon as the last words of the chorus come out of both of them, he approaches completely, their lips colliding. That feeling in your stomach again. It's like fireworks when Seungmin brings a hand to her cheek, letting go of the microphone to rest his hand on the bench right behind you. This looks like a scene from a romance book. She thinks. He almost faints when the kiss stops for a second and she parts her lips to give way to his tongue, which he doesn't take long to accept. His hands go to her waist as he deepens the kiss, her back rests against the wall when Seungmin leans even closer, as if he wasn't already close enough.

He pulls away to catch his breath, both of them breathing heavily as he rests his forehead against hers, sighing. "Go to the prom with me."

"I'm not really into that kind of stuff."

"But you're into me though." He teases, and she laughs before capturing his lips again.

He needed to talk to Yeonjun.

With a lame excuse he loses you and goes to the back of the school, not taking long to find Yeonjun and the rest of his 'friends'. "We need to talk."

"What's up Seungmin! How long friend, you've been kind of busy recently." Yeonjun takes the cigarette out of his mouth to greet the brunette, wrapping an arm around his neck as he pulls him closer to the circle. The redhead offers him a cigarette, Seungmin sighs irritated, picking up the rolled-up piece of paper with his hand, only to throw it on the floor.

"I give up." He says just like that, Yeonjun looks at him confused. "The damn bet, I give up, I'm not going to do that, you win." Seungmin looks deeply into his eyes as he says this, Yeonjun scoffs.

"You've got to be joking, are you serious, Minnie?" The redhead uses the old nickname on purpose, making Seungmin even more uncomfortable. "I thought you were better than this, you can't take a girl to the dance?" Yeonjun laughs dryly. He clenches his jaw.

"I don't care what you think, I just want to make it clear that it's over. I'm not going to be a part of this anymore." Seungmin says firmly, Yeonjun's smile disappears.

"What's your problem Seungmin? Have you gotten into her pants already? Have you had enough?" Seungmin turns to leave, not wanting to hear all that bullshit. “I bet you had fun, Y/N is good in everything she does. When I found out that she played the piano I finally understood why those little hands were so skilled-"

Yeonjun's voice is interrupted when Seungmin drops a closed fist on his cheekbone. That would definitely leave a mark. The redhead has little time to react before Seungmin pushes him and he hits his back on the ground. All Yeonjun can feel are the punches of the youngest in his face.

The fight doesn't last long when the two's friends run to separate them, now a group of other students are already surrounding them when Seungmin hears director Shin's familiar voice. Shit.

He doesn't think straight as he follows her out of the circle of students, nervously trying to brush his bangs out of his face. Seungmin couldn't hear anything, and his vision was blurry too. What was Yeonjun's problem? Was he just messing with him? Did he really already have...? That didn't make sense. No, it didn't feel right. You would never be with someone like that. Someone who smokes, fights, screams, hates rules, someone who makes stupid bets. Someone like Yeonjun. Someone like Seungmin.

Oh.

His thought is interrupted when he feels the burning of a gaze penetrating him, beyond of all the others, he felt this one up close. He lifts his head to see you staring at him, near the alley where Yeonjun and his friends were. Did she hear that? Her look was answer enough. Lips swollen from her teeth biting them anxiously, red nose and wet eyes. She heard that.

Seungmin is used to fucking everything up.

But this time he really regretted it.

"Some brave to read your poem in front of the class?"

Seungmin was done. part of it was because he knew he fucked up with everything, and the other part was because you were avoiding him. Missing all the classes you had together. You never missed classes. He tried his best to forget, tried to convince himself that 'It was just a girl', but he couldn't. No, not even if he wanted to. And he didn't want to.

With the head resting on his arms and his body leaning on the table he looked absently out the window, wondering where you were. He had done his homework for the first time. But you weren't there to hear it.

22:30, That time reminded you of him. Damn.

All the other students were probably having fun, dancing and getting drunk in a room full of fancy dresses and music. But you were in your room, alone.

You scribbled randomly in your notebook as you did your best to relax, 'Reflections' played on your small radio on the corner of the table. This song reminded you of him. Damn. You sigh audibly, throwing your pen somewhere on the desk as you kicked the wall in front of you to move away from the table, letting your head fall to your side and look at the ceiling.

You have condemned yourself for falling for it again. Yeonjun was an asshole, and you learned that the worst way.

first year, you weren't you yet. Little girl who wanted most was to fit in.

And then he appeared. Knight in armor, handsome, charming, with dyed hair and a pretty smile. Yeonjun was your prince. Or that's what you thought. Two months of dating was what it took for him to get what he wanted. After using all his charm he completely seduced you, behind his luxurious convertible. He had you at his mercy.

He didn't force you, no, you did it on your own, after all, everyone was doing it, right? then a week later when he was flirting with Chaewon like you were nothing, it made your heart break into a thousand pieces. Days later you found out about the gambling addiction between Yeonjun and his friends.

You promised never to fall into the clutches of stupid teenagers again.

You sighed, closing your eyes to block out the light from the chandelier in your room, taking deep breaths to calm yourself.

Tic

Weird

Tic

...

Tic

What the hell is that? You open your eyes and look around the room before see a rock hitting the window glass. Very weird. You take cautious steps to the window, opening one of the doors before a rock flies over your head, landing somewhere in the room.

"Sorry!" Kim Seungmin. Exactly the person you wanted to see. You scoff, turning to go back to your bed. "Wait!"

You ignore it, laying down on your bed and looking at the ceiling again.

Seungmin looks up, seeing you disappear into the room, he sighs, ready to give up when he notices that you didn't close the window.

"I'm not sure if you can hear me, but- uhm... I did my homework, ahmm.." He sighs, opening the crumpled piece of paper he's tucked away in his big leather jacket. He clears his throat.

"I love how you talk to me

And how your hair is always blocking your eyes

I love how you sing out of tune

And I love your stubbornness"

He smiles to himself as he reads.

"I love your worn pair of jeans

And I love how you can read my mind.

I love this about you so much

That I even feel sick

I love how you ignore red traffic lights

And I love it when you're brutally honest."

He laughs to himself, unconsciously reaching to brush off his bangs of the eyes.

"I love when you make me smile

And even more when you look into my eyes

I love how you hum when you're distracted

And the fact that you love weird music"

He swallows hard, sucking in some air as he reads his own previously written words. He moistens his lips before continuing.

"But I especially love

how you make me feel loved

Even though I'm everything you hate

And for that, and more

...

I love you."

He still looks at the paper when he bites his bottom lip. Seungmin looks up to see the window, only to notice that you weren’t there yet. He sighs, crumpling up the paper and stuffing it back into his pocket. "I really meant it." He concludes, turning to head back to the car.

Seungmin didn't want to lose you, but he would learn to deal with it. He would try hard to forget everything he spent with you, the show, the party, the football field, the library, the car, the karaoke. Everything. And as his last act of love, he would leave you alone.

Three steps, maybe four, is all he can walk before he feels a weight on his back, staggering him and almost falling to the ground. You snaked your arms around his slim waist, as you buried your face in his back, sniffling. "Stupid....Stupid- I...I hate you." She whimpers, her voice muffled by the fabric. He sighs with relief.

Seungmin turns to hug you from the front, resting his chin on the top of your head as he closes his eyes. "I love you too, baby." He whispers, and you feel those damn butterflies. "I'm really sorry."

"You better be!" She cries, hitting his chest as she pulls her face away from his now wet shirt, looking at him. He brings both hands to her face to wipe away her tears. She sobs.

"You know, I really intended to take you to the prom, I mean- because I wanted to, not because.. you know-" You cut him off when you crash your lips onto his abruptly, shutting him up. It takes a second for him to hug you again, gently taking one hand to your face and the other to your waist. The kiss was wet, a mess, but he couldn't be happier. He smiles, and the bail is forgotten.

"I hate myself for not being able to hate you."

"And I love you."

End.

#kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids #jeongin #yeonjun #yunjin #fem reader #x reader #reader insert #skz stay #skz #skz x reader #10 things i hate about you

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professor-beaker · 8 months ago

Text

(Warning: very long rant about growing up religious and aroace. Might delete this in an hour. Idk)

Dear mom and dad,

Do you remember when i was 14, and had my first kiss? You probably dont- for you, it was just another sunday. He was one of my only church friends, and he pulled me, alone, into one of the music rooms after sacrament meeting. You encouraged me to go with him, because you could read the signs i couldnt. He was very polite, but when we kissed and he grabbed my hand on the way out, it felt more wrong than anything id experienced before. I ran back to you, crying, and you walked me through rejecting him. You basically told me that i was just too young, that it would get better, but it certainly didnt feel that way at the time. Every time youve reminisced on it since, it was only to laugh at my expense. At my naievety.

I tried to take your words to heart. I tried to listen each time our church would preach about how essential families were and each time you told me how happy you two were. It didnt work.

Do you remember when i was 15, and i told you, mom, that adopting sounded way better than having biological kids? You got so offended, and i had no idea why. I still dont. You told me it was a natural part of life, that we were supposed to bring children into this world. I tried to explain my reasoning- why would i want my own children when there are those who are suffering on their own? When the thought of procreation made me sick?- but you dismissed it. It was just another day.

Do you remember the brief period when i was 15, when i dated a girl? I assume you dont, because you never found out. I lived in constant fear, because the comments you would make at the dinner table described lgbtq+ as an affront to God, as unnatural. I had thought that men were the problem, and she was my first real partner. But nothing changed, it still felt wrong, and we fell back into only being friends. I hadnt told you about that until today, because i knew exactly what youd say about it. I knew exactly what youd say about me.

Do you remember the boy i met when i was 16? The one with the curly hair and the kind smile. You were always pushing me toward him, because you saw how he looked at me (i saw, too- and i didnt like it). He took me to homecoming, and prom, and danced too close to me for my liking. You always asked if we were a thing yet- and when i said no, you smiled knowingly. I hated that smile. And you smiled that smile for years.

I reconnected with him when i was home over winter break. We hung out once, i told him my sexuality, and he barely reacted. When you asked how it went, i told you i rejected him romantically, but we were still friends. Do you remember what you said, mom? You said, "so you broke his heart and left." I cried that night.

Do you remember when you found my aroace pins a month ago? Im at college in a different state- a religious college you wanted me to go to- and you still made it your priority to berate me for it. I dont know if you could tell how angry i was over the phone, but when you said "asexual and things are just looking for attention", it broke my heart.

Because i figured it out when i was 17. Because it took me two years to finally accept it in a religion that very strongly emphasized the family unit. Because i finally felt accepted, i felt heard, i wasnt being dismissed at every corner. Because i had something to explain why i was like this.

Because i finally didnt feel broken.

I never doubted that you loved me- not once, ever, in my life. Not until you started degrading me for something i couldnt control. Not until you started pressuring me to date people i would much rather be friends with. If youre not going to love all of me, then do you even love me at all?

I hope you know that i still love you, despite everything. But i hate the way you talk to me now, the way you talk to others about me. And i hope that one day, you, too, will realize that im not broken, or affronting God, or unnatural. I hope you realize that im still your child.

I hope you realize im still human.

#aroace #aromantic #asexual #arospec #aro problems #aro #ace #lgbtq community #lgbtqia #lgbt pride #religion #literally just a rant #i am not expecting notes on this at all

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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year ago

Text

Rigor Mortis (part 5)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 4, Part 6

summary: You deal with the aftermath of last night. Lyla has a party.

warnings: very suggestive. mentions of sex, vulgar language, etc 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: this is so so so self indulgent i cannot express it enough. probably ooc asf: you've been warned.

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 8.5k (i'm on a strict plan and had a lot to get through lmfao)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

and they were good.

Eventually, you're bundled into your room in a fit of giggles and with shaky legs. Even in Miguel's hoodie, insisted upon by the man himself, the sheets feel a little colder after he leaves. Initially, he had collapsed on top of you; smothering you with the heat of his bare skin and the sweats that ride down his hips, dangerously low. You're pushing him off, or trying to, heavy and leaden-limbed. Whether it's the weight of that orgasm or the remnants of that blunt that turns your arms to jelly – you don't know.

Honestly, you don't think you care. He's resorted to laying his head on your chest in mock sleep – clearly still high as fuck – and stretching out on top like a housecat. He's warm on your lap; so you bring a hand to card through dark brown curls that rest on the flat of your sternum.

You'd never have known it: Miguel has a playful side, beneath all the sarcasm and red tape.

In the morning, he's gone - with only his hoodie as proof that something happened. For you, it's a hazy memory - warmth tinged in the lazy light of last night's high. It comes and goes like the tide on a quiet beach: remembering how he touched you, the feel of bare skin on bare skin, the way it burned when he kissed your shoulder….

And it's gone, again. You're left tracing the hickey at the base of your neck, and it aches . A little moment like that, fooling around like teenagers on prom night, and it shouldn't feel as intimate as it does. Groaning into your pillow, you burrow into the expanse of your roommate's hoodie. With a busy week incoming, you can't afford to be distracted – not like this.

And so, you bury the urge to knock on Miguel's door, and put your lips around the words that mean… more. You want more. It feels greedy to verbalise it, as if you've seen too much of him already. The irony; humping almost fully clothed and yet, feeling so bare. It leaves a strange taste in your mouth – blood, maybe. Maybe he's finally done it: stuck the knife between ribs to find out what colour you bleed. Miguel's a scientist after all; prone to making things go pop and snap , slicing into specimens with a steady hand.

It's too much, too close for comfort and you can't afford it: affection and intimacy in any shape or size was a fatal wound , especially after last time. Instead, you let the morning waves crash over its outline left in sand. A body – blood and gristle and guts – washed away by the tide.

You find yourself pushing down dangerous feelings. After finally getting comfortable with Miguel, all that progress seems for naught; bumbling around the apartment like a deer finding its legs. The first morning, you're spared a confrontation as he's already gone from the apartment. Earlier than usual, and you hand-wave away that little voice in your head that says: he's avoiding you .

He's not. He can't be. And you know it because he's able to look you in the eye. Briefly, but it's much longer than you can last. You have a whole conversation when he comes home and it only makes you want to rip out your eyeballs a little.

You're on the sofa, hands in your lap and antsy. There's a stupid soap on the TV, but you can barely concentrate; head too full of cotton to make sense of the screen. You're so lost in thought that when the door clicks open, you jump half a foot into the air.

"Shit." You turn, watching Miguel kick his shoes off at the door. Flashing him a nervous smile, you wave limply and turn around to cringe.

"Heeey," God. You burrow into the cushions.

"Hey." He's got a plastic bag in hand. He drops the rucksack on his back, and goes straight to the kitchen.

You call out. "Takeout's in the fridge."

He hums, and you hear clattering from the doorway. Turning, you watch; sleeves rolled up in a smart shirt. You can see the muscles in his back from here; the ripple of hard lines under cotton. Craning your head, you can't help but be curious.

"Stop sticking your nose in."

You're halfway off the couch, and stop dead in your tracks.

"M'not-"

He peeks out from the doorframe; catching you in the act.

"You're not allowed to look."

It leaves you spluttering, getting off the sofa like a spoilt child. He's telling you not to look, and like clockwork you're itching for it; padding towards the counters. Miguel must have superpowers the way he catches you, leant against the doorframe with his arms crossed across his broad chest. You're on your tiptoes and trying to get a glimpse into the kitchen. He shifts in the way, tight-lipped and shaking his head.

"Meant it. It's a surprise." You cock your head, like you can't believe what he's saying.

You step to the other side and he steps along with you, blocking your view.

"... Miguel ." You say it slowly, incredulous. You're stepping closer, ever so slightly, but he stays stony-faced and resolute.

For the first time in 24 hours, since you basically fucked him in the room next door, you're looking each other in the eye. Squinting, you hold his gaze but he barely cracks a smile.

"Sit down." He says it sternly, but his voice is soft. "Please."

With a flourish, you bring your hands up in surrender and inch back towards the couch. It's the usual chopping and thudding of cabinets being opened and closed. It takes everything not to look back, but you force yourself to concentrate on the TV.

Finally, he places a bowl in front of you before flopping to your side. He's still in his work clothes, adjusting the waistband of black slacks and popping off the buttons at the top of his shirt. You're trying not to stare, not to drool at the way he just melts ; sinking into the seats like a lolly on a hot sidewalk. When he brings his bowl closer, that's when you inspect the contents of yours.

"Is this…?" You start, and he hums; taking a healthy slurp of noodles in the process.

You shake your head to no one in particular. It's the very same instant ramen you've stopped buying, after constant complaints and lectures from the man himself. There's enough salt in here to banish a demon, he'd spit. In retaliation you'd bite back, saying, maybe you'll fuck off where you came from, and retreat to your room to eat in peace. It's your favourite flavour; perfectly salty and flavourful and definitely not good for you. In the broth, there's the milky white and yellow of an egg, with spring onions and fresh veg breaking the surface. Even before you've taken a bite, you feel that warmth at your chest, again.

He doesn't even look at you, pointing a finger at the screen instead.

"I thought Jenny was dead?"

You clear your throat of that lump, rising up like a fishing boat spit up by the waves.

"That was her twin sister, Jane."

"...I thought Jane was dead." He frowns.

"No, no, Jane faked her death in the mining accident; and ran off with all that inheritance money… were you paying attention last episode?"

"No, you watched it without me."

"Yeah, but you said you hated this show–"

" –only because it's a total rip-off of La Patrona ,"

"And yet, you're begging me not to watch without you–"

"Begging seems a little strong–"

He's kept his sharp tongue, and you're too occupied with arguing to notice the hand wrapped around the back of the sofa; how you're both inching closer until your legs come to rest on his own. You're focusing on his lips, drawn in by a pull that seems stronger than gravity.

He's saying your name, and you snap out of it. Blinking up at him, a deer in headlights, you remember yourself and look away. Tension pulls at the both of you, a string as thin as fishing wire that snaps with your realisation. You like the way he looks, flushed and flustered after a long day. You could make him feel even better, right now, if he wanted it. You'd drop to your knees and wrap a hand around his cock, pulling those beautiful sounds out of him – the very same ones you'd fucked yourself to the thought of, not so long ago.

If, being the key word. And with the way he shifts back, away from you, you're not too sure if last night was a flash in the pan or something more.

Everything about Miguel screams dangerous; flags in deep scarlet that are telling you to stay the fuck away. He doesn't commit, sleeps around; refusing to define or put a label on any significant relationship in his life. He won't even admit, say the words, that he's fucking a half-dozen girls right now; even when you've got concrete proof in the form of messy lips and banging on the walls. Okay, maybe half a dozen is a stretch; but three girls, on three separate, multiple, occasions for sure. Probably; you haven't technically seen anything but if the precision of last night was any indicator – the terrifying speed at which he made you fold like a lawn chair – he had significant experience. He was a fucking veteran; dedicated to the sport for the love of the game.

You find yourself caught in his web all the same; kicking yourself at your naivete. He's turned away now, seemingly unfazed, making little comments at the show you've got on TV. It's becoming increasingly clear where you stand: caught in a game of chicken with your roommate – a man with balls of steel, if last night was any indicator. You're ill equipped to deal with such levels of conflict avoidance, despite years of hands on experience.

The question remains, stuck in the gaps of your teeth like udon, thick and dense and chewy: how exactly does he feel about you? Where do you belong?

~~~

It's been quite the week and a half, mostly spent trying to make sense of Miguel. One minute you're at each other's throats, and the next, he's talking you through rate laws and kinetics equations. Apparently , you've got a lecturer he used to have, and he insists on sidling up to you on the dining table; prodding at your paper and liberally crossing out errors. His inconsistency has you irate ; and it means you get petty, picking fights and laying easy bait. Frustratingly enough, all it does is make that tension worse; thick and choking ; in your little apartment.

The only thing you have to look forward to is the party at Lyla's; of which you've volunteered to help set up. It means food, and drink, and a couple hours of respite, hopefully.

On the day, you get to Lyla's early. Miguel's at work, promising to be there in a couple of hours, and so you take the subway instead. Yet again, walking up to her apartment feels like another world – one of marble and faux fur and lots of animal print. When she lets you up, you're left with only your thoughts and the quiet hum of the elevator. In the mirrored wall, you take stock of your outfit: snug denim and a little shirt. Admittedly, your wardrobe felt a little lacking – jeans and a nice top being your go to. Right now, your only hope is that the dress code would be more forgiving.

The door swings open and Lyla's pushing you towards the living room, chattering away at a mile a minute. It's overwhelming as you're dragged into the light, half a dozen boxes and its miscellaneous contents strewn onto the floor.

"–and Jess has the nose of a bloodhound, so if anything seems even a little off, she'll know… "

You nod slowly as Lyla squeezes your arm with so much force, it cuts off blood supply.

"Like clockwork. We need this to run like clockwork."

Fingers numb, you watch as her features set; a wide smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes and shadow that cuts her face just so. Overcast and dramatic; simply put, it's terrifying.

There's a loud Pop! from behind, making you jump.

"... sorry !" Peter's voice rings out, and there’s a tangle of brown hair and dark eyes peeking over the kitchen island.

Walking over, you can see he's splayed out on the tiles, balloons littered all over the place. A balloon pump, long discarded, sits in its packet at barely an arm's length. More importantly, though, he's got a bundle of red hair and freckles in his arms; little May, sniffling and whining with what's left of a balloon between chubby fingers.

"Might need some help, over here…" He says it softly, rocking the little girl in his lap.

Lyla rolls up non-existent sleeves, face scrunched up in concentration. She closes her eyes ; fingers dancing as if typing on non-existent keys.

"...okay, okay, change of plans." She turns to you, eyes wrenched open and hands clasped together – Machievellian in nature. You suppose; with the sheer extent of her party planning skills, able to pull strings this way and that; it fits. "We've got exactly 3 hours and 23 minutes before everyone else arrives, plus about 17 minutes, give or take, before Jess does."

"How do you kno-" You start, but Peter presses a finger to his lips. She's in the zone, he seems to mouth.

“I need you and Pete to get these balloons done, and then we can set up the archway. I’ll call Ben, ask him where the fuck he is, and then we’ll see if we can get some banners and streamers up…. God , and the food…. think I need to threaten someone at the catering company, give me a sec,” She stalks off, muttering something that sounds important. Pete shrugs, kicking over a box of balloons; black, white and gold, a lot fancier than you had expected. May is eased off of his lap, and he presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She sniffles, holding her head up bravely. It's probably the cutest thing you’ve seen all year.

“I give her 5 minutes before she realises Miguel’s going to be late.”

“...and God help us when she does.” You finish for him, settling down on the cool marble.

You make a start on the balloons, opening the untouched packets and pulling out a shiny pump.

“How long have you known each other?” You busy your hands by stretching the neck of a deceptively small balloon.

“Oh, Lyla?” He frowns. “A couple of years, maybe. We met because of Miguel – same with Jess and Ben, actually.”

It's your turn to frown. Miguel was the glue? It’s a picture that doesn’t quite match up with the meet-cute that you were painting in your head. If they met because of your roommate, it must’ve been a contentious group project, or someone rear-ended in the parking lot, that brought them together: something with a lot of shouting and arguing, you decide.

Maybe Pete sees the surprise on your face, because he adds, “I’ve known Miguel for longer, though… and he’s a lot nicer than people give him credit for.”

“...I didn’t say he wasn’t.” Nice? Not a chance.

“But you were thinking it. Promise, once you get to know him–”

He’ll give you a mind-numbing orgasm and pretend it never happened. Or something like that.

“ –he gets less confusing?” You grumble. “I’ve seen enough, I think.”

“So maybe he’s a bit of a prick. But under that cold, stony exterior; buried deep, deep, deep…”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Deep down , somewhere, he’s got a heart.”

“I just,” You pause, choosing your next words more delicately. “I didn’t expect his friends to be like you guys. Fun and–” …a little batshit, and… “ – spontaneous. He’s so stoic sometimes, it’s worrying. Like, he’ll just blank out on the couch–”

“–frowning in the corner like the wall’s pissed him off personally? Yeah, I’ve seen that one a few times.”

“He’s just so hot and cold! Sometimes we’re good and almost friendly, and then all of a sudden he’s avoiding me at all costs, holed up somewhere. A-And then he’s making me breakfast, like that blip didn’t even happen… did I do something wrong? Has he said anything to you? I-I just want him to–”

The man besides you chuckles. And then, you flash him a violent look that has him flattening his features in a hurry.

“He just… takes some time to warm up, s’all. He’s changed – changing. I mean, we went to highschool together and I didn’t even realise ‘til we met again in college.”

“You went to highschool with him?”

“Yeah, but I was like, 2 grades ahead of him. We didn’t really talk except… we were both in this robotics club afterschool.”

“Robotics? Wires, and circuit boards, and–”

“ –robots. Honest-to-God, hand-on-heart, stupid little robots. And being teenagers with way too much time on our hands, we’d build ‘em, and then make ‘em fight to the death. Miguel… he took it way more serious than everyone else there. We’d mess around with goobers and battlebots – hell, sometimes we’d skip to get food. He was.. He was always there, though, hunkered down in the corner and tinkering away at something.”

“Now, I wasn’t popular in highschool, at all – I went to Robotics Club , so I think that about sums it up – but I remember… no-one could really understand him. Top of his class, always up for awards, but people thought he was a little weird. Come rain or shine, he’d always be in that corner seat with a screwdriver basically glued to his hand. And we didn’t have a clue what he was building.”

He seems wistful, thinking back to that time.

“When I finally asked him what it was, at the end of maybe… 2 semesters,” He smiles, one that deepens his dimples and brushes the corners of his eyes. “He finally told us. It was a… a fucking arena for all the stupid stuff we built. He’d really thought it through, too: all our equipment would get jumbled up, so he made little boxes and sections to separate them in. There was an LED pad he’d programmed to keep a scoreboard. It was made out of this… self-healing vinyl so we wouldn’t need to replace it too often. He got so excited when he was explaining it all; about how it folded up so we could bring it with us when we changed classrooms, and… honestly, I think they still have it there.”

He sighs. “I think that’s all he knows how to do, y’know. That’s the language he speaks, the only one he really understands. Taking care of people, giving them what they need. You’re barely friends with Miguel, then all of a sudden he’s giving you hangover cures cooked up in his kitchen, and cussing you out in the morning, ‘cus you went a little too ham after a breakup. Or…he’s bringing pizza to your apartment at 3 in the morning, ‘cus he knew you were lying about being okay after your Uncle’s funeral.”

He’s got a faraway look in his eyes, an absentminded hand in May’s. Her stubby fingers curl around his, and then he’s back, snapped out of that distant daydream.

“Give it time. He’s been through some shit. Miguel’s got layers, like–”

“Like an onion?” You offer, weakly.

“No, no. Like one of those cheese wheel things that May likes so much. With.. with the wrapper and the waxy red stuff on the..?” He handwaves it away. “Forget it. MJ knows what they’re called.”

~~~

You put your back into helping set up. You don't quite get the theme, but Lyla explains it all whilst you hang the contents of those boxes on the wall: a maximalist, hedonistic mish-mash of food, drink and decor. She wants it to feel like if Gatsby three raves, and actually fucked that sad twink – whatever that means. The visual representation of an orgasm, but classy, she says. More, more, more; and if your back doesn't hurt by the end of it, then it's not enough.

She's got you hauling ass across her front room, draping fabric and moving furniture like it's your job. Ben arrives and between the four of you (five, if you include May clambering on decor), it's all done. You can't help but think she's done a great job: the whole room decked out to look like the cover of an expensive wedding in Vogue – excessive but in a way that's only classy when rich people hire someone else to do it. Lush fabric in lieu of streamers draped on the walls, balloons sculpted into arches and tastefully dotted around the floor. The theme is black and white, with hints of gold, and gentle strings of pearl hang from ceilings and walls. It looks good, because it has to; Lyla's made you move everything around about a million times.

Gleefully, she rubs her hands together, turning to all of you. "Food's going to be here in 10, I think. You guys get changed and I'll double check when Miguel's bringing the cake."

Peter and Ben disperse into various rooms – with Peter noticeably rubbing his back, May on his arm. You're left with Lyla, awkwardly looking towards her for guidance.

"...get changed?" You look down at your woefully casual outfit. It seems you've come completely unprepared.

"Yep. Miggy didn't tell you about the dress code?"

…it's becoming increasingly difficult to cut your roommate some slack. With everything that's happened, rather conveniently, he's neglected to make any mention of a dress code.

Sheepishly, you start, "I didn't know, shit –"

Lyla cuts you off and brings a hand up to silence you. Bouncing on her toes, she's almost giddy with excitement.

"I know exactly what you can wear!"

She leads you upstairs to her room. You perch on her bed; and whilst you grapple with the fact that she even has an upstairs, you lose her in the deep depths of a walk-in. Lyla rummages through almost cartoonishly; wading through fur and leather and giant coats like an explorer hacking through dense forest. Eventually, she resurfaces, waving a bundle of white fabric. She hands it to you with a grin.

She gives you some room, pushing you through the double doors of her closet to get changed. The dress feels amazing on: well-made, thick fabric and endlessly snug in all the right places. In the mirror, you marvel at how such a simple garment transforms you: a silky slip that stops about mid thigh, draped beautifully on your shoulders, and hugging your hips like a glove. There's a little slit at the side that stops just a bit higher than you'd usually be comfortable with, but… it works. Incidentally, your makeup and hair compliments the look; soft and pretty and–

You hear a small gasp from behind the door. Lyla's got her head peeking out into the room, and then she's at your side with a gentle hand on your arm. She spins you around in front of the mirror.

"You look…" Her eyes light up, marvelling at you. " Gorgeous. You have to keep it."

"No, I can't… I won't . I was already underdressed, and this must have been expensive. I can't."

"No shit, of course it was expensive. But that's not a good enough reason… I barely wear it, and I've got more than enough clothes. Keep it ." She's smiling, head just over your shoulder in the mirror.

"It's not too much…?"

"Honestly, babe, it's not enough." She giggles. "D'you like it?"

It feels weird to look at yourself like this, dolled up and pretty – contrasting how you've felt in the past few months. It feels like you've been in survival mode; exhausted and perpetually tired. On, all the time, and sick with worry about one thing or the other. You've forgotten to take care of yourself, and as a result, this feels different.

Lyla notices: the way you stand up a little straighter and adjust your hair; the way you try your hardest to clamp down a smile. Do you like it? Slowly but surely, you nod.

"You're allowed to like it, y'know," She says, softly. "You look happy. You look good. "

You believe it, when she says it. You let that feeling carry you down the stairs; one hand on the railing and Lyla babbling away with an arm looped around yours.

~~~

Miguel is late – really late .

He was meant to be at Lyla'a about an hour and a half ago, which means he's rushing to get the cake. For once, at least that goes smoothly; and he picks up a little red velvet affair, piped to perfection and with " Happy 27th, Jess!" written on its face. It keeps him company on the way to the party, sitting snug on the passenger's seat as he drives more carefully than before. He figures it's better to be safe than sorry; already this late, there's no need to add cake smasher to the list.

The day's been draining, and he wants nothing more than to curl up in bed with his favourite podcast. He knows his friends like the back of his hand, and knows that when Lyla says a small celebration for Jess, just a house party ; what she means is going the whole 9 yards, an excess of food and drink and disgustingly expensive decor, all for the sake of a birthday. He's had a glimpse of the guest list, and recognises about half of the people there – Lyla's too friendly for her own good, he thinks. He'd tried to talk her out of it, knowing Jess would be more than up for a smaller dinner, but she had her mind set. And it's impressive, what she's no doubt managed to achieve in the past few weeks of meticulous planning.

Nevertheless, it's not something he has the energy for, right now. Work had been a slog; and he'd had a couple hours of lectures before a meeting with his thesis supervisor – where she had ripped his outline to shreds, frankly. He's still sore from that verbal lashing, but fears the one he'll get from Lyla more, if he doesn't come.

And… and there's you, headstrong and stubborn and insisting on attending; even though he had made it abundantly clear you were under no obligation to do so. It must be out of spite, he thinks. But with the dress code, he can't help but daydream as to what you'd look like; maybe, a pretty little dress on, hair done a bit different, and… ohhh fuck. He didn't tell you about the dress code.

He's gripping the steering wheel, annoyed at himself for such a little slip up. And it's not just the fact that he's forgotten; but he knows, considering the past few days, you might take it the wrong way. He's not stupid ; he knows he's been wishy-washy, all because it's hard to decide how he wants you or if he should. More than anything, he feels guilt; getting you high and oh-so close to fucking you, just the way you deserve, and then… he can't. It's hard to explain, and even harder for him to wrap his head around. That logical part of him screaming: you can't fuck your roommate without consequences. But he's already had a glance into Pandora's box, a taste of that sweet fruit – of temptation , strong and heady.

It's that taste left in his mouth, of something sweet, that lingers when he walks into the party. The door's open, but even from down the hallway he can feel it: the rattle and shake of pumping music. He squeezes himself in, dodging the mass of bodies packed into the main room. The lights are low, music loud and the celebration well underway. More than anything, he's hoping it's so busy he can just show his face for a bit, and then slip out.

He towers over other people, shuffling past, giving a nod or hello to all the people that slap his back and greet him. A scattered chorus of 'Hi' s and 'S'up, Miguel's, and then he's placing the cake on the counter, pushing past half-empty drinks and beer bottles. He snatches one up, looking around. He's watching for the furred collar that Lyla's no doubt wearing, or mousy brown in the neon lights; but with the pumping mass of bodies, he can't see much.

He's ready to check upstairs when the crowd parts, and he sees you ; swirling in the mass. It makes his chest bloom with heat; you're gorgeous, dressed in white like an angel and smiling in a way he's never seen before. And then, his heart stops as someone else comes into view: another man, somewhat taller than you. There's an arm wrapped around your waist, and the man dances up against you in a way that makes something cold and bitter flare up within him. Miguel stays glued to the spot, for some reason, unable to take his eyes off of you: illuminated in the light, beautiful and flowing like a spectre. And like nails on a chalkboard, all he can do is watch as you dance up against someone else.

His mouth goes dry, and then he's making a beeline for the double doors at the back; a glassy entrance to a balcony tucked away. The air is stifling in there, but when he's on the balcony, finally, he's able to breathe.

There's someone nursing a brightly coloured drink, in its corner. Jess, big hair braided back and a velvety red jumpsuit on. She turns at the clatter of the door opening, before bursting into a wide smile.

" Miguel!" She cheers, enveloping him in a hug.

"Hey," He smiles warmly, sinking into her arms. "Happy birthday, Jess."

"Thank you, kindly." She curtsies, producing a faux southern twang and laughing all the same. Then, she wags a finger at the man in front of her. "You're late . "

He rubs his temples. "I.. I know."

"Lyla's gonna fucking kill you. "

"I know."

She gives him a playful punch. "You okay, over there?"

He gives her a rueful smile. "Yeah, Jess. Of course. When am I ever not okay?"

"I've got a list, big guy, but we'll be here all day."

She laughs and Miguel glances over through the glass; drawn to you even now. The song's changed, a bass line that rattles the panes, and you're still glued to that guy . Just as quickly, he looks away.

With a front row view to that display, Jess raises an eyebrow. She follows his gaze, connecting the dots.

" Oh. " Her voice is gentle. "S'that her?"

" Her?" Miguel echoes.

" Her . Your roommate. The one Lyla says you're fucking."

"You and I both know– "

"Okay, okay, maybe she didn't say those exact words…. but there's something there, for sure."

"Not possible . " He says it plainly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

She leans against the railing, taking a careful sip of her drink.

"Xina says you're doing stupid shit to impress her. Peter says you're making heart eyes whenever she's in the room. Ben says– "

"Xina? What's she got to do with anything?" He's deflecting, Jess notes. Miguel, usually so quick with the sarcasm, and he's refusing to touch the other half of what she said.

"...you're tutoring half of her classmates."

He purses his lips. "Yeah, but I didn't think –"

"...you didn't think girls would talk?" She splutters. Of course it sounds stupid, when she puts it like that.

"Yeah, well, Xina's still not talking to me , so…" He trails off, shaking his head.

"It's almost as if you broke her heart into a million tiny pieces, Mig." She rolls her eyes. "Get your head out of your ass, man."

She turns to face the city and Miguel does the same, with a heavy sigh. It's quiet for a moment, with only the sound of cars below and dull thrum of speakers behind to keep them company. He's always liked this, he thinks. A moment of calm with Jess, the only sane person for miles around. They're able to sit in comfortable silence, in a half-minute that transcends words.

He reaches into his front pocket, pulling out a little parcel that's wrapped up in red paper. He nudges Jess, handing the present over.

"Happy birthday."

She smiles, tearing into the little package. Then she stops halfway, heart melting at what peeks through.

" Miguel… " She coos, a hand on his arm to steady herself. Out of the packing paper, she produces two little boots; red and blue and made of soft wool. "How did you…?"

"It wasn't obvious, but… sick in the mornings, switching to soda when we go out to a bar…" He allows himself a smile. "And I asked what's-his-face, just to be sure."

"See, I can't tell if you actually don't know my husband's name or–" She cuts herself off with watery laughter. "F-Forget it. Fuck, I'm gonna cry all this makeup off,"

He takes a sharp intake of air. "They were… mamá made them."

"Thank you, oh God . I know how much this–"

He cuts her off with a hand wave, as if to say; don't worry about it. "Sorry I couldn't come to the wedding. Your husband seems nice, and he treats you well. Although , he's kind of–"

" Corny . Yeah, we get that a lot." She's half laughing, half crying, fanning her face to stop her mascara from running.

He wraps a big arm around her, pulling Jess into his side. Happy tears, he hopes as she blubbers.

"I think m'getting too old for this… we don't see each other enough, lately… a-and I would've been happy with the dinner, then Lyla told me there was an emergency over here–"

"She did good. Really good. Don't tell her I said that, though."

She nods, bringing a finger to her lips with a smile. "And you don't tell the other's about…"

"Of course not. When you're ready, Jess."

"I love you, man." She grins wide, and Miguel returns it with one of his own; an increasingly rare megawatt smile. It quickly falls with her next words.

"If you ever tell anyone I said that, I'll break your kneecaps and blame it on the hormones."

She grabs his beer, opening it with her teeth, and hands it back to him. A little scared, Miguel takes a healthy swig.

"Oh, shit. " Jess exclaims, batting his arm. "I completely forgot. Lyla's got some stupid games on, upstairs."

"Who with?"

"The usual suspects, Mig – though Peter's long gone and… I don't even know where Ben goes, actually. But you can bring your girlfriend up, if you promise not to eyefuck her across the room."

" Gross , Jess."

She raises a hand up in surrender, leading the way back inside.

~~~

Miguel's here all of a sudden, and in a moment you thought would be more of a bang ; you lock eyes with him as Jess herds you upstairs. It's less of a sharp pain at the ribs and more of a crescendo; pooling warmth spreading to fingers and toes. He's still in his work clothes: crisp white shirt with a couple buttons undone, and black trousers. A little formal, and yet, he doesn't feel out of place; wearing the monochrome of the dress code, and looking twice as good as any man in the room. Somehow, you've forgotten how tall he is; lumbering over everyone else as he cuts between the crowd. He snakes behind you, giving you a strange look as you walk up the stairs. All of a sudden, you're weary of your dress, tugging down its hem as best you can. Miguel stays behind you, a gentle hand at the small of your back.

"You're okay," He whispers, sending shivers down your spine. " I've got you ."

He doesn't mean it like that , but it's too easy for you to close your eyes and imagine what it could be; words he kissed into skin when you're on top, struggling to take his length.

You ignore that coil tightening at the pit of your stomach, choosing instead to focus on Lyla stumbling through the door, trademark pink shades slipping down her nose. Behind her, there's a little sitting room; plush furniture and a massive tv – with quite a few consoles in the corner, you note. She shouts your name, barely audible over the music.

" – oh, and hi, Miguel!" She's too drunk to be mad, and you don't notice Miguel visibly relaxing. She takes your hand, calling over to Jess just behind you. "We saved you a mocktail, J."

Taking your seat, you settle down next to Lyla; perching with your legs crossed on the seat. Miguel sits some way away, on the opposite side of your makeshift circle, clearly trying not to make eye contact. Jess elbows him, and he turns to her, before having a heated argument; all hushed whispers and hand gestures. It's the most animated he's been in the past week, for sure…

"We're playing Never Have I Ever, Jess! Like back in college."

The woman in question rolls her eyes, giving a flash of pretty dimple. Back in college, Lyla says, when they'd drink cheap beer and spill their guts in dive bars – a tradition Jess wasn't too upset to see go. She didn't have the stomach for it then, and she doesn't now; but it probably wouldn't hurt to relive some of that fun.

It's a warmup round, so to speak; a strong drink thrust into your hands. You take turns going around the circle, starting off relatively tame. First, it's Never have I ever skipped a class. Everyone, all college aged or older, drinks to that one. It's practically a given. And then someone chips in with Never have I ever broken a bone . Again, most people drink – taking advantage of the freebies to get a little tipsy.

It's Lyla that throws out the juicy ones, after a couple of duds.

" Never have I ever faked an orgasm." She says it from behind her glass, giggling.

Less people drink, this time. Sheepishly, you raise your glass, taking a healthy gulp. Lyla takes the opportunity to gasp, clutching at her chest and fanning her forehead dramatically.

You're whispering back, half laughing and half telling her off, "That's not that weird, Ly. Hasn't everyone…?"

"Not me. How's your partner meant to know it's shit if you fake it?"

It's her sincerity that makes you laugh; wide-eyed and completely incredulous. You're clamping down the giggles when you look around, immediately locking eyes with Miguel. He gives you an odd look, as if amused.

You're up next, and roll up metaphorical sleeves. "Never have I ever had a threesome. "

There's murmuring around the room, and a couple of people take a drink. Lyla does, with glee, and someone else you don't quite know the name of. What surprises you, however, is when Miguel takes a swig; eyes locked onto yours.

You feel heat rising, blinking away as best you can. You still feel his gaze, of course. That game of chicken, the one you've so desperately been trying to avoid, rears its ugly head. You think Miguel is winning.

The questions get more and more provocative. Never have I ever been pegged… or pegged someone else. Lyla drinks, Jess takes a gulp of her fruity mocktail…. and so does Miguel. Never have I ever been cheated on. Most people drink to this one, including yourself. A shitty teen relationship barely counts, you suppose; but you're taking every opportunity for a drink right now.

Never have I ever cheated on someone. One or two people drink, and at least they have the decency to be ashamed. When Miguel drinks, however, you shift in your seat. Something settles within you, discontent. Yet again, your image of the man in front of you changes. For someone who sleeps around, maybe it's not too much of a stretch for him to cheat ; but the word feels so final, too cruel. It doesn't match up, for some reason, with your Miguel, who brings you piping hot noodles and hot water bottles on a bad day.

This time, he doesn't meet your eye.

Lyla decides she's bored, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"New game – truth or dare!" There's faux groans from around the room. Lyla sticks a tongue out, ignoring them, and continues. "Jess, as the birthday girl… you get first pick."

Jess lights up, gorgeous , with the hoops at her ears swinging to and fro when she looks around. You haven't spoken much to her, but she seems like good fun; making a whole song and dance of picking the first victim.

It's obvious, in hindsight, who she'd pick. There's only one person in the room visibly squirming, almost sweating , at the idea of something so out of his control.

" Miguel," She says, turning to the man sinking into cushions. "Truth or dare?"

He gives her a look, and she combats it with one of her own; the kind that could melt steel beams, and says It's my birthday, don't be a dick.

" Dare ." He grits his teeth.

"I dare you," She pauses for dramatic effect. "...to show us your porn watch history."

Imperceptible, his eyes flash towards you. You notice , mouth dry. He groans. "We're not 19 anymore, Jess. It's childish. I'm a grown ass man–"

" Truth or Dare , Mig."

"Truth." It's quick – which is very reasonable, considering her tone.

"When was the last time you fucked someone?"

Everyone turns to Miguel. He's looking at you, of course, wincing at the words he's about to say.

"I don't…" He's swirling the beer bottle in his hand, and then he shrugs noncommittally. "I don't know. A… month, maybe."

" Bullshit!" Someone whisper-shouts, and then there's some laughter.

Jess' eyebrows jump up, and Miguel bats her concerns away, whispering something under his breath. You can't quite catch it but his body language is clear: don't ask. He downs the rest of his drink, lips around the bottle, as some liquid trails down the side of his jaw. You're watching, unrepentantly obvious, and he catches your gaze. Without breaking eye contact, he swipes a finger to the liquid and licks it up.

Heart racing, you force yourself to look away and try to concentrate on the next few dares. The circle seems to have moved on, more interested in whatever juicy shit they can drag up in the next poor victim.

You've all but zoned out when it's the turn of Jun, egged on by a couple of friends. You frown. He's that guy you were dancing with earlier, caught up in heady music and swirling lights. Jun is handsome, in that famous starlet kind of way; square-jawed, pretty eyes, and dark, cropped hair. Boy wonder is lean-lined with a nice smile; the very same that had reeled you in on the dancefloor. Maybe it's the liquor, but you think he's looking at you now; raking sharp eyes over your figure.

"How do you know him?" You whisper to Lyla.

She cups a hand to your ear, more than halfway to being absolutely wasted.

"Used t-to work with him. He's nice enough, I think…? There was a rumour around the office; and apparently, he's got a massive di-"

"Truth or dare?" Someone says.

"Dare. Obviously." He flashes a smile in your direction.

You squirm, and Lyla shines with realisation.

"Oh my God." She whispers, and then she's interrupting before you can stop her. "Makeout with the hottest girl in the room. A proper one, tongue and teeth and–"

You elbow her, square in the ribs. Thankfully, she takes the hint. Jun cocks his head, as if mulling it over. He gets up.

Your head spins with the drink, and you're concentrating on keeping your sneakers flat on the ground. Head down, you don't notice the man walking over. He crouches, tapping your knee.

"Oh." You say, blinking up at him. "Hi, again."

"Hi, again." He smiles. It's like you're the only two in the room, and with the way he looks at you, eyes darting to your lips… "Can I kiss you?"

The words get caught in your throat, so you nod, fumbling.

He places a hand to your chin, gently pushing you closer and then you're kissing; sweet and gentle. You separate, and you open your eyes to find his blown . You've got tunnel vision: his lips are pretty and wonderfully swollen – you just can't help it.

You go back in again, parting your lips to let him in. He's cradling your jaw, tracing a hand up your thigh and it feels good. Closing your eyes, you sink into the heady haze of booze, grabbing at his shoulders. They're not as broad as Miguel's, and Jun isn't as clean shaven. When you snake a hand to the nape of his neck; it's rougher than your roommate's hair, cropped into a boyish cut instead of Miguel's gentle curl. Sighing, you both come up for air, and you're almost disappointed at the distinct lack of red-brown blinking back at you.

Nails on a chalkboard, and you're back in the room. You look around to amused faces, catching Lyla wide-eyed besides you. Jun's cheeky, placing a quick peck to the side of your mouth before sitting down. From your vantage point, you're scared to look, to really look , in fear of what you'll see.

Miguel, in the corner, with a white hot grip on his beer bottle. Catching that stormy gaze, something just clicks. Something resembling power, absolutely intoxicating, that heady rush you got from kissing someone else. Or, more accurately, getting a reaction from your roommate. Notoriously unwavering, and yet … he reveals a gap in his armour. A silent swipe to the ribs that doesn't kill, but draws blood.

People are dispersing now, growing tired of the games. Lyla darts off; with the attention span of an excited pomeranian, and the excessive alcohol, she's already lost interest. You take a breather, sinking into plush cushions and catch Miguel's eye. In the commotion, he's tossing his beer and walking up to you, as if gearing up to say something.

Someone sits into the seat besides you: tall and handsome, but definitely not Miguel. It's Jun, who smells like fresh flowers and cut grass, nudging your side.

"You're good at that," He says, with a little smile.

"Good at what?" You say, confused.

"That kiss." He seems a little bashful, probably sobering up. "It was… good. "

"Not…" You're distracted, eyes flicking over to find Miguel. He's gone. "Not my best work, I think."

He stretches an arm around the back of the sofa, caging you in a little closer, and all you can do is blink up at him.

"....you want to try again?"

He's handsome. He's flirting . And he's present; able to give you clear signs that he wants you. It's more than a certain someone can provide, and you're left with a deep-seated need that no-one else seems to be able to fulfill. Four words ring out in your head, clanging around like pinball. You. Might. Get. Laid.

It's enough to have you leaning up against Jun, a hand tracing circles in his thigh and fluttering your lashes as best you can. Hopefully it's a look that's says seductive, and not pink-eye. This far into the night, you don't quite have the energy to care.

Heavy petting and drunk giggling; you spend God knows how long in that little room, whispering stupid shit to each other. You introduce yourself, and so does he. A brief overview of your life; and you find yourself desperately trying to skip the small talk. Jun works with computers. You're a student. Jun is very good with his hands. You're a visual learner. Everything seems to fall into place.

Soon enough, you're swapping numbers and leading him out the door to somewhere more private . His apartment ; you find yourself hoping, as you make your way downstairs.

He's draping a jacket on your shoulders, and you wade through the crowd. The lights are spinning a little less, you find, holding onto Jun's palm. In that great big room; people packed in like black and white sardines; all you're looking for is something to tether yourself to – or someone. Relationships, you've learnt, were overrated. You're young, and single, and gorgeous ; able to bag whoever you want. And what do you want? A hookup, clearly; something simple and uncomplicated, without the mess of feelings to untangle yourself from in the morning.

There's a commotion from a corner of the room, and Jun pulls you back; craning his head to see. A jumble of people, crowded around the epicentre. He nods towards the bustle.

"Isn't that Miguel?" He shouts over the bass, and your eyes widen.

You push past, trying to get a better look. Flashing lights, pumping music. In the red and blue and black, he's there ; hand wiping a bloodied nose. He's saying something; and a couple of guys surround Miguel, giving rough shoves and shouting something you can't hear. Someone throws a punch and he takes it, barely shifting at the continuous blows.

It's a sobering sight, and you're worried; looking left and right at the onslaught of bystanders.

"Why isn't he fighting back ?" You say, barely audible. No-one's doing anything but watching; one or two even pulling their phones out to record. The sight makes you sick, and you're shouting his name, trying to get closer. Like a gunshot, sudden and sharp and cutting through the noise, he locks eyes with you. His eyes dark, with that same look he gave you not too long ago.

Another cruel kick, and he's down on one knee, clutching at his stomach. You notice the broken glass, the blood in his shirt. He's goading them, and still , he refuses to fight back. 250 pounds soaking wet and at least 6"5; he's a fucking killer – and everyone knows it. Why won't he fight back?

There's a pounding at your skull, and something deep and dark and complicated that twists around your insides, threatening to rise up – and then.. and then…

The lights are turned on, and the music stops. Lyla's at the stairs shouting obscenities; telling everyone to get the fuck out, or I'm calling the cops.

People disperse out the doors, but only a few rush towards Miguel. You do, of course, and then Jess is by his side to help him up. He must look worse than he feels because despite the bruising and pouring blood; he pinches the bridge of his nose like he always does, as if it's just a headache. He's laughing ; the smug bastard; incisors sharp and dangerous and flashing pearly white. Your heart's still racing; betraying complicated feelings. As the last dregs drip out of Lyla's apartment, you're all left to deal with the aftermath.

Jess looks shaken, Lyla's sobering up; and you're holding Miguel's hand, elbow deep in the oil spill.

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

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#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #rigor mortis 😼#kat_writes😼#spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel x reader

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come-see-our-show · 1 year ago

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I saw an early screening of the Mean Girls movie last night, so here is a summary of my thoughts, comparing the movie musical to the Broadway musical, which I was lucky enough to see live in 2018!

Changed that I liked:

The usage of social media in the Broadway show made it very clear that it was written by adults who didn’t know much about Gen-Z. It was probably one of the worst parts of the show in my opinion. But Tina Fey must have done her research since 2018, because the way the movie uses TikTok, memes, vlogging, and FaceTime to push the story forward worked VERY well. I think there were some influencer cameos, but it didn’t feel they were included to show how “young and hip” they were, It actually added authenticity.

The diversity within the cast and changing last names to reflect the characters’ backgrounds (Karen Smith ➡️ Karen Shetty, Janis Sarkisian ➡️ Janis 'Imi'ike)

Cutting down “Meet the Plastics.” It’s a very exposition-heavy song and doesn’t need to be super long, even though the full version is quite catchy and fun.

All of the new jokes landed so well, probably because Tina Fey’s writing style is better suited for the screen as opposed to the stage.

This is more of a comparison of the musical vs. the original film, but a big change was The Plastics’ weaponized wokeness (which I talk about here).

The production design for most of the songs was very different. The stage musical has a lot of rock songs, which were changed to a pop sound for the movie. I personally prefer rock musicals, but it was a good way to give the movie a separate identity from its predecessor so it doesn’t risk becoming a carbon copy. It worked on some songs (“Someone Gets Hurt” and “World Burn”) but not on others (“A Cautionary Tale” and “Revenge Party”).

Cutting the joke about Regina’s ass being big. It was a very low-brow joke, which I’m not a fan of, and was just really immature. Thank God that was changed to her falling, which still shows her being embarrassed without her body being the joke.

Explicitly making Janis a lesbian! (It’s only implied in the stage show with “It’s not even true… I only have one butt”) And she goes to prom with a girl while Damien dances with a boy! ALSO THERE’S REJANIS LORE AND IT’S SO HEARTBREAKING I LOVE IT

megan thee stallion just… being there

Miss Norbury and Principal Duvall being a couple and owning a dog together!!!

As a low mezzo, I appreciated whoever decided to lower the key for “I’d Rather Be Me.” I felt very represented 🩷

Having Cady be raised in a single-parent household so it focuses in more on her relationship with her mom. Jenna Fischer was so motherly and sincere and brought a warmth to the movie. Their scene together near the end made me emotional (you’re never too old to ask your parent to stay with you until you fall asleep) (also this is my request to make jenna fischer my mom)

Changes that I didn’t like:

Cutting BOTH of Damian’s solos??? (SHE’S LEAVING!!!!!!!! JUST LIKE MY DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Cutting “More Is Better.” It wasn’t necessarily a memorable song, but it did give both Cady and Aaron more depth, both as separate characters and within their relationship.

While cutting some of the songs helped with pacing, cutting HALF of the score made me forget that it was a musical sometimes, which sucks because I really like musicals!!!

Other stuff:

The movie was marketed horribly. One of my friends didn’t even know it was gonna be a musical because there were no songs in the trailers 💀 (Also, this isn’t just a Mean Girls problem. The Color Purple also didn’t have any songs in the trailer. I didn’t even know Wonka was a musical until I saw it in theaters, so that was a bit of a shock.) If you’re producing a musical movie, maybe your focus groups should be musical fans, because that’s still a HUGE market.

Auliʻi Cravalho’s voice is STUNNING! She and Jaquel Spivey had great chemistry and their friendship felt so genuine!

The opening and ending transitions from the garage were everything to me

The EDITING

Angourie Rice is a great actor and fit Cady perfectly… except for her singing. Out of the entire cast she was easily the weakest in terms of vocals and it was pretty disappointing since she’s the LEAD. I could barely hear her in the new song “What Ifs” because of how quiet and breathy she was. I think it’s a better written song compared to “Roar” though.

Jon Hamm cameo!

Ashley Park cameo!

I cannot stress enough how funny this movie was. I was probably laughing louder than everyone else in the theatre.

I lost my shit during “Meet the Plastics” when Regina unzipped her jacket and Cady was staring at her boobs. She’s just like me fr 🏳️‍🌈

I know that Regina is a horrible person but I couldn’t find it in me to dislike her in the slightest. She just served too much cunt 😩

Christopher Briney is a good actor, but I don't think he was the right choice for Aaron Samuels. I would hate to ridicule anyone for their looks, but it still plays an important part in casting. Aaron is supposed to be a somewhat naive, wholesome, hot jock (and Regina has high standards, so he better be a fucking model). Briney is definitely a cutie, but gives off “smoldering badboy with a secret sensitive side” energy, which isn’t what Aaron should be.

The fantasy sequences (Stupid With Love, Revenge Party, October 3rd). I LOVE when movie musicals USE the medium to tell stories in a way that they can’t on a stage!!!

THE CHOREO!!! Everyone freezing then shaking in “Someone Get Hurt” AHHHH that entire number was HYPNOTIZING!!!!!!!!!!! My friend told me the choreographer’s name is Kyle Hanagami, so shout out to him. (also reneé rapp was so fucking hot while singing that oh my lord)

I will be calling my pimples “face breasts” from now on (avantika ilysm)

DAMIAN’S FRENCH COVER OF THE ICARLY THEME SONG 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

why was there a 0.5 camera shot of cady during revenge party 💀

“I’d Rather Be Me” was so much fun and I felt so fucking empowered. And the transition from the song to the bus was just *chef’s kiss*

“donut worry i am still your freend” 🥺

Lindsay Lohan cameo!!!!!!!!!

NOT ENOUGH RENEÉ RAPP 😭😭

Overall, the movie was not perfect, but the Broadway show already had plenty of flaws, so it’s understandably how that would affect the adaptation. I still a LOT of fun and would definitely see it again. Go stream Snow Angel by Reneé Rapp. i love women 🥰🥰🥰

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starlost-maniac · 18 days ago

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My Significant Bother - Ch 1

Warnings/genre: SMUT, piv, unprotected sex (don't do it), mxf, mxm, some angst if you squint, unrequited love(?), Mean Jisung (kinda?) I probably missed some (I'll eventually remember all the tags -_-)

Pairing: MinSung x fem!reader

dividers made by @cafekitsune

"Tell me again why I'm here." You say in your boyfriend's ear before leaning back, giving him a look, drink in hand.

"Because it's my best friend's birthday, you promised me you'd go out more and you love me." He smiles at you, talking over the music blaring in the club. "Plus.." He leans back a bit more, looking you over. "You look so damn gorgeous." You smile and roll your eyes.

"I would hope I do, Minho. You picked the dress out." You take a sip of your drink. He chuckles, looking you over again. The dress was black with mint accents, the top was strapless and had a deep v cut, showing off plenty of cleavage. The dress stopped at your ankles, hugging the curves of your chest, waist and hips perfectly before becoming more flowy from mid thigh.

"You always do, kitten." He places his hands on your hips, pulling you close. He leans down to kiss you. Just as his lips land on yours, you hear the DJ announce over the music, "The birthday boy is here!"

You groan into Minho's mouth and pull away, rolling your eyes as Jisung strolls into the club. He greets people along the way to you and Minho. You take another sip of your drink and turn around in Minho's arms, leaning back against him. He leans forward some, wrapping his arms around your waist just under your breasts.

"Please try to be civil, kitten. I know you don't like him, but just for today?" He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek. You groan out before letting out a quiet 'fine'. Minho smiles. "Good kitten." He stands up straight and holds you close.

When Jisung gets to you and Minho, he glares at you and groans. "Hyung, why did you invite this…" He gestures to you without breaking eye contact with your boyfriend.

"Jisung, I've asked her to be civil for your birthday. Can't you be nice today?" He gives you a gentle squeeze. Jisung huffs before looking at you. He looks you over, staring at your chest for longer than he needed before looking back into your eyes.

"Thanks for coming…I guess." He crosses his arms.

"And, Jisung?" You feel Minho chuckle against your back.

"And..you look very…not ugly today." Jisung huffs. You roll your eyes and sip your drink again.

"So how's your birthday so far man?" Minho asks, gently rubbing your ribs with his fingers.

"Good, great honestly. Got a new job at an office. Better pay and shorter commute too." Jisung says, waving the bartender down. You end up blocking out the rest of what he says.

You look out over the crowd, slowly sipping on your drink. You see a group of your girl friends from school come inside. They were part of your friend circle from school, that—unfortunately—Jisung was part of too. You and Jisung were not friends. You were the farthest thing from friends. He always picked on you throughout school, but stopped most of the bullying when Minho came into the picture. Minho was a new transfer and he joined your clique pretty quick. He got really close to both you and Jisung. Minho ended up asking you to your senior prom and asked you to be his girlfriend the same night. You've been dating since then.

You turn around in Minho's arms and step up on your toes to reach Minho's ear. "I see some girls from school. I'm going to say hi and mingle, maybe dance some."

"Ok, baby. Just be careful out there." He says back. "Don't want some random guy thinking he can have a chance with you. Especially since the girls are almost on full display." He chuckles, gently grazing his hands over your breasts, his fingers playfully following the v cut.

"I know, love. Only for you." You wink at him before kissing his cheek. You walk off to join your friends, their cheers can just be heard over the music. Minho chuckles and sits on one of the stools at the bar, watching you.

"Honestly, hyung, you could do so much better than her. There's a club full of hot girls here that would love to be under you. Probably a few dudes too." He laughs out. He leans back against the bar counter next to Minho.

"Nah. No way, Ji. She's honestly it. I've been with her for 7 years. I can't give her up now." He smiles, watching you dance with your friends. His gaze shifts over to Jisung, a mischievous smirk on his face. "Why do you say that, though? You jealous?" He chuckles.

"What? Hyung, ew. No. First off, she's definitely not my type. Second, she's your girlfriend." He gives Minho a look. "Plus, I may have slept around in college, but I never slept with a taken person…on purpose." He takes a sip of his drink, gaze shifting back to the crowd before landing on you.

"Jisung. I've heard you talk in your sleep. You've said her name so many times over the years." Minho laughs. Jisung rolls his eyes.

"Like you haven't dreamt of your enemies before." He turns, calling the bartender over again for a few shots.

"Oh I have. I definitely have, but not like that, and I don't moan their name with a full hard-on in my sleep." Minho wiggles his eyebrows at his best friend. Jisung just makes a disgusted face. Minho laughs and pats his friend on the back before shifting his gaze back to you. "Honestly though, Ji. I wouldn't mind it. I trust and love you both. You're both the most important people in my life." Minho shrugs. "I'd love it if you both got closer and stopped fighting so much."

You look over at Minho and wave, dancing with your friends. Your girl friends wave to him too. He chuckles and waves back before blowing you a kiss. He couldn't believe how incredibly lucky he felt to have you in his life.

"I love you, too, hyung. You're really important to me, too." Jisung turns around, facing the crowd again. He leans back against the bar and sips on a drink. It's quite between the two for a few moments before Jisung's eyebrows scrunch together and he slowly looks at Minho. "Wait. Did you imply that you wouldn't mind if Y/n and I fucked?"

"Yeah?" The older laughs. "You and I fucked a few times in high school before Y/n and I got together, too. She knows and it didn't really bother her. Maybe if you two fucked, it'll get some of that pent up anger you two have out." Minho shrugs, chuckling. Jisung squints at his hyung. "Plus, I'm sure it'd be pretty hot. Watching my girlfriend get railed by my best friend."

"Right…let's just enjoy the party. It's only a few more hours until my birthday is over." Jisung downs a shot quickly. "I'm going to go find someone to dance with." He goes out into the crowd. Minho watches and laughs.

You and your girl friends come up not long after, you immediately go into Minho's open arms. The girls and Minho catch up for a bit. Jisung comes back after a while. He smiles at the girls and thanks them for coming to his birthday party. They hugged him and kissed his cheek before going back onto the dance floor.

You all enjoy the party for a few more hours before you and Minho are ready to head home. Jisung does one more round of shots with some people before he leaves with you and Minho. Jisung gets in the back seat and lays down, wasted. You got in the passenger seat as you've had a few drinks and were definitely tipsy. Minho buckles you in and kisses your cheek. Once he gets in and buckles his belt, he drives to the house that he and Jisung own. Minho asked you to move in prior, but you declined, saying soon.

Minho drives carefully, trying to not make you or Jisung sick in the car. Parking the car, he got out and went to your side, opening the door for you. You smile at him and get out.

"Are you ok to walk, kitten?" He holds your hand.

"I should be ok. I'll wait for you in the bedroom." He nods and kisses your cheek softly. He opens the back door of the car and carefully gets Jisung out as you walk inside. After pulling Jisung out of the car, he carefully closes the door with his foot and goes inside. He brings Jisung to his room and carefully sets him on the bed. He takes the younger boy's shoes, shirt and pants off, rolling his eyes when he finds out Jisung wasn't wearing boxers. He dresses the boy in a pair of pajama pants and covers him with his blanket before leaving to go to his own room.

Minho finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling on your phone. He smiles and walks over to you, kneeling in front of you. You set your phone down and smile back at him. He slowly slides his hands up your left leg and under your dress, gently grabbing the thigh high stockings you wore. He slowly starts to slide it down your leg, not breaking eye contact with you. You shiver when his fingers gently touch your skin. He slips the stocking off before repeating with your right leg.

Standing up, he holds his hand out to you, helping you stand up. Once you stand, he turns you around and unzips your dress for you.

"So gorgeous in this dress.." He slips it off your body, letting it fall to the ground, leaving you in just your panties. "So gorgeous without." He leans down as he wraps his arms around you, softly kissing your neck. "How did I get so lucky with you, kitten? All those other guys vying for your attention.." he breaths against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "And I'm the one that won your heart over." He kisses up your neck to just under your ear, the tip of his nose ghosting your skin.

"You made me feel safe.." you breathe out, eyes closing. One of Minho's hands moves up to gently cup your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze. His other hand sliding down to the hem of your panties.

"Mm..I'll always keep you safe." He kisses behind your ear. "Let's go shower, my love." He slips his fingers into your panties, laying his hand flat against your belly before slipping his fingers back out, letting you go completely, making you whine softly at the loss of contact. You follow him out of his room and into the bathroom as he strips himself of his clothes on the way, starting the shower when he enters the bathroom. You slip your panties off, dropping them on the bathroom floor.

Stepping behind him as he was checking the water temperature, you wrap your arms around him, putting your hands on his pecs. You press your body right against him, your breasts squished against his back. He chuckles when you playfully squeeze his pecs a few times. He reaches down behind himself, playfully reaching for your core. You giggle and back away some.

"Mm, kitten wants to be playful it seems." He turns around and quickly grabs you, pulling you right against him. Wrapping his arms around you, he picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck and he steps into the shower. He grins and steps under the water, getting you wet first.

"Kitten is wet in more than one place now." He chuckles and you stick your tongue out at him. "Don't stick that tongue out at me, kitten, unless you plan on using it." He smirks at you. You smile and lean down, slotting your lips with his, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He groans softly and you feel his dick twitch under you. He gently grips your ass a little as you make out. He gently readjusts you so he can slide his cock inside you, making you moan in his mouth. He pulls away with a smirk.

"Such a good kitten, taking me so well." He presses your back against the wall, bottoming out in you. "Who's good kitten are you, baby?"

"Ahh..yours..yours Minho. Only yours." You moan, feeling every inch of him that slips in you, filling you up.

"Good girl." You clench around him at the praise. He chuckles and leans down, attaching his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking marks onto your skin. He slowly starts to fuck up into you, gripping your ass. You moan out, tilting your head for him. Your nails gently run along his skin, the stream of water hitting his back making his skin slick.

He chuckles against your neck as he thrusts hard into you, making you gasp and moan. He kisses along your skin, leaving occasional marks. He leaves enough with the knowledge you'll have to cover them up come Monday. He grins as he picks up his pace, thrusting into you hard and fast. He coos at you when you moan and whimper. He can feel you getting close as you clench around him more.

"You gonna cum for me, kitten? Gonna be a good girl and cum around my hard cock?" He whispers in your ear, making you shiver despite being in a hot shower.

"Yes..yes. Wanna cum…" You arch your back, pressing your breasts against him. He grinds deep into you and you moan his name, cunt clenching around him hard as you cum. Minho latches onto your neck again and bites and kisses as he fucks you through your high before cumming deep into you.

"Good girl. Such a good kitten." He coos, peppering your face with kisses as you come down from your high, making you let out a breathy giggle. He helps you stand up, sliding out of you. "Let's get you cleaned up and head to bed. How's that sound baby?" He steps back under the stream, pulling you with him. You nod, getting sleepy. Minho smiles and carefully washes you and himself. He turns the water off and steps out of the cubicle. He wraps a towel around his waist and grabs a towel for you, drying you off.

Once you're back in his bedroom, he tosses on a pair of shorts to sleep in and grabs you a silky set of pajamas to sleep in, knowing they're one of your favorites. You lay in bed and cuddle up to him.

"Thank you for coming to Jisung's birthday party, kitten." He kisses your head.

"Of course, baby. I went for you, though." You cuddle as close to him as possible.

"I know, but still. Thank you." He rubs your back. "I do still hope that you two can be more friendly towards each other."

"Mm." You yawn, sleep finally taking you over. Minho smiles softly and kisses your head again. A few minutes pass and he hears a quiet knock on his bedroom door. He looks over and sees Jisung peeking his head through the door. Minho raises an eyebrow at him as the younger boy walks in and quietly shuts the door. He walks over to Minho's side of the bed and climbs in behind him.

"Sorry hyung. My room is cold and you're warm." Jisung said. He still sounded drunk, but could just be sleepy too. Minho laughs softly, trying not to wake you.

"You're fine. Just don't wake kitten." He whispers. Jisung nods a little, moving close to Minho. Minho chuckles a little as Jisung's hard on was pressed right against him. He sometimes forgets that his friend gets really horny when drunk. Jisung lays his head against Minho's back, the older man settles in, holding you close before he falls asleep himself.

——

Minho wakes up early the next morning, you and Jisung are still fast asleep in his bed. He carefully gets up, making sure not to jostle either of you, before leaving his room to use the bathroom then heading to the kitchen to make breakfast.

You turn over in your sleep, onto your side, facing away from the boy in Minho's bed. Jisung moves in his sleep as well, looking for Minho's warmth. He moves across the bed, finding you. He wraps his arm around you, thinking that you were his friend. You both sleep a little longer until Jisung wakes up, pressed right against you. He inhales deeply, smelling Minho's shampoo on you.

Jisung stretches and cuddles into you a bit more, thinking that you were Minho. He stays like that for a bit before he realizes that he's in Minho's bed, with you and not Minho, morning wood present, pressed against your ass. He scrambles out of the bed and lands on the floor with a thud, waking you up. You sit up and look around before you see him on the floor, hair a mess. You roll your eyes before glaring at him.

"What are you doing in here, Jisung? Minho put you in your bed last night." You cross your arms under your chest.

"I got cold and Minho-hyung usually lets me sleep in his bed when I'm cold." He snaps back, trying to hide his obvious morning wood. You roll your eyes again and get up out of bed. You leave the bedroom and head to the kitchen where you hear your boyfriend cooking. You walk up to Minho at the stove. You wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his back.

"Good morning, baby. Did you let Jisung sleep in bed with us last night?" You ask, interlocking your fingers around him.

"Mhmm. He said he was cold so he slept behind me. He usually does it when you aren't here, but he would have still been a little drunk." Minho says, flipping a pancake.

"Mm." You stay like that for a moment before letting go to get a drink. Jisung walks out when you get to the fridge, hair no longer a mess. He was still shirtless, his skin flawless, v-line on full display as he wore his sleep pants low.

"You're staring, Y/n." Jisung says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look away from him and grab your juice from the fridge.

"No I wasn't." You pour yourself a cup, putting the container back in the fridge.

"Sure you weren't. I didn't see it with my own two eyes." He says dryly, rolling his eyes. "I know I'm hot, but don't stare." You turn your head to glare at him, taking a sip of your drink before walking back to Minho. Your boyfriend plates up some pancakes and looks at you, a soft smile on his face.

"Can you bring this to the table, kitten?" He holds up a plate full of pancakes. You nod and take it from him. You bring it to the table, Jisung immediately taking one and biting half of it, his cheeks puffing up like a squirrel. You roll your eyes, going back to stand with Minho.

"Oh, baby." You look up at him, he lets out a soft 'hmm?'. "You remember my friend, Felix? You met him at last year's Christmas party. It's his birthday today."

"I remember. I sent him a gift basket of baking recipes and the like last week as an early gift. We talked a lot during that party." Minho looks at you and smiles. He leans down and pecks your lips. Jisung makes a gagging sound and Minho just chuckles.

"Don't be jealous, Jisung. I know kitten is beautiful, but no reason to be jealous." Minho winks at his friend. Jisung makes another gagging sound. "Just think about what we talked about last night, if you remember what I said." He laughs before plating up more food, taking it to the table. Jisung shakes his head and sits at the table and eats with you and Minho.

——

The following Monday, you were at work. You worked at a company that helped promote idols, whether it was making images or trailers/videos, or anything that they needed, your company did it all. You worked with Felix, Hyunjin and Changbin out of a closed off office on your floor. You were the team leader for this specific section, but still answered to Chan, the manager of the floor. Chan had called your team into the meeting room for a quick meeting.

"Y/n, Felix, Changbin, Hyunjin. I called you in to let you know that we have a new employee, and I'm assigning him to your team." He sits back in his seat. "You're the best team I have here, so I know you'll do great with a new body on hand." You nod at him. He turns towards the door and waves his hand, indicating for the new hire to come in.

You turn in your seat, smile on your face as you're excited to see who your new coworker was, just for the smile to fade as soon as you see Jisung walk in. He steps inside and freezes upon seeing you. He swallows and steps up to the table that you are all sat at.

"This is our new employee, Han Jisung. Jisung, this is Y/n, our team leader of the group you'll be working for, Changbin, Hyunjin and Felix." Chan says, indicating to each of the boys as he stands from his seat. "Y/n will show you to your desk, and will give you the rundown of how we do things, and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask her." Chan smiles and leaves the meeting room. You sat there, still shocked. The other three members of your team all get up to greet their new member. Jisung greets them back, trying to hide his shock.

You stand up and look at Jisung. "Follow me, Jisung. I'll show you around the office." You leave the meeting room, Jisung follows behind not long after. You showed him some of the other offices on your floor, all managed by Chan, where the bathrooms were and where the break room was. You showed him where Chan's office was, his secretary and assistant's desks outside his office. You introduce Seungmin and Jeongin to Jisung before taking him back to your office where your team had already come back to.

"This is where you'll be sitting." You point to a desk at the end of the layout, opposite of where you sit. There were a few other empty desks closer to you, but you didn't really want him near you.

"Understood." He was trying to be professional in front of the others. By the time he settled in, it was time for lunch. You usually went to lunch with your team, so being cordial, you offered to take Jisung out. He looked at you, suspiciously, making you roll your eyes.

"I usually go to lunch with my team. You don't have to go." You stand up and grab your jacket.

"She really does, Jisung. She enjoys spending time with the team, even if she doesn't show it." Felix says, teasing you. You smile and roll your eyes again.

"If you're coming, then come. If not, then don't." You walk out of the office behind the other boys. Jisung hesitates for a moment before grabbing his coat and following behind you. It was Felix's turn to decide, and he wanted tteokbokki. You follow Felix to a table, sitting next to him with Changbin on your other side, Hyunjin across from Felix and Jisung across from you. You all place your order and sit quietly. Jisung chances a glance at you and sees your eyes flick to him. He makes a disgusted face and looks away from you.

Jisung chances a few more glances at you throughout lunch. He genuinely had thought about what Minho had said on his birthday. He did think that you were pretty, beautiful even. But you two had been fighting since you were kids. He honestly didn't think there would even be a chance for friendship given your history. When the food came, you all ate, the team started a conversation with Jisung. As your lunch hour came to a close, you and your team got up, you paying for their food, Jisung's included. He was honestly surprised.

You all walk back to the office, Jisung trailing behind you, the other three walking ahead of you. Jisung stares at you a few times on the walk back.

"I feel you staring, Jisung. Cut it out." You say without turning around.

"I'm not staring." He shifts his gaze from you. "Thank you for lunch, though." He says quietly. You simply nod. Going back up to your floor, you all go back to your desks, Jisung going to his before getting up to go to you. He needed help with his login as Chan hadn't given it to him, but had it on your desk. You get up and go around to his desk. You help him log in and show him how to use the programs he needs to use. That continues until the end of the work day.

"Can I ride home with you and Minho, Y/n? I took a cab here as I didn't know you worked here." He was quiet, not wanting to ask you for things.

"Ask Minho. He'll be here any minute." You look up from your phone, looking out for your boyfriend's car. Once he pulls up, you smile and get in the passenger seat. Jisung leans down so he can see Minho.

"Hyung, can I ride home with you and Y/n? I don't want to call another cab." He chuckles softly.

"Yeah, that's fine. Hop in." Minho says. He leans over and kisses your cheek as Jisung climbs in the back seat. The younger one makes a disgusted face again when Minho kisses your cheek. Minho laughs when he sees the face his friend makes. "What do you guys want for dinner?"

——

You were in your bathroom, taking off your makeup while Minho ordered pizza. Once your makeup was off, you changed out of your work outfit and into more comfortable clothes. One of Minho's oversized shirts that hung off your shoulder, and a pair of your sleep shorts, hidden just underneath Minho's shirt. You step out into the common area and Jisung covers his eyes from where he sits on the couch.

"Please put some pants on, Y/n." He peeks through his fingers.

"I am." You lift the hem of the shirt up to show off the shorts.

"Oh." Jisung lowers his hands. Minho walks in from the kitchen with three cups. You take one from him and thank him, smiling at him.

"I'm going to hop in the shower while we wait for the food to be delivered. It's already paid for, so when it gets here, just give him the tip money on the table by the door." Your boyfriend says. He kisses you softly after setting the other cups down.

"Will do. Thank you, baby." You kiss him back and he walks off to go shower. Not long after the water starts, there's a knock at the front door. You answer it and it's the delivery driver. You take the pizza and hand him the tip money. You notice him looking you over.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing home alone like this?" He grins, leaning against the door frame.

"I'm not alone." You say, holding the pizza boxes. "I'm here with my boyfriend."

"I don't see anyone inside. So it looks like you're alone." He chuckles, trying to step inside. "And I don't think the old 'I have a boyfriend' card is going to work." You take a step back as he keeps trying to come inside.

"Ji..?" You call out, getting nervous. The delivery guy starts to reach for your arm, saying something that you weren't listening to. "Jisung?" You say calling louder.

"What?" He says coming around the corner to see you. He sees what's happening. "What's wrong man? Did my girlfriend forget to give you the tip?" He steps over to you, taking the pizza and setting it on the table by the door. He drapes his arm over your shoulder. The delivery guy looks between you and Jisung.

"This guy isn't your boyfriend." He scoffs.

"No, I am. Now if you'd kindly leave, I won't press charges for trespassing." Jisung watches him.

"Prove it then." This guy is getting ballsy. Jisung shrugs and turns you so you're facing him. He gives you a look that says 'trust me'. You didn't trust him, and really didn't want to, but you nod slightly and Jisung leans down, slotting his lips with yours. Your first thought was that you wanted to pull away or push him away, that kissing him would've been horrible. But it wasn't. His lips were nice and soft. He slowly licks your lips, asking for entrance. He wanted to be as convincing as possible to get the guy to leave.

You bring one hand up to his cheek as you open your mouth. He slips his tongue inside your mouth, one of his hands going to the back of your head, having you tilt your head back a bit to deepen the kiss. He tasted of cherries. You faintly hear the guy scoff and what sounded like the door closing. Jisung stepped closer to you, pulling you close to him at the same time as he continued to kiss you.

He gently bites your lower lip and you groan softly. He releases your lip and captures you in a kiss once more, his fingers threading into your hair, a soft moan slips from him into your mouth. You hear someone clear their throat off to the side of you and that's when Jising pulls away, his lips kiss bruised. You imagine yours don't look any better. Jisung wipes his lips on the back of his hand, putting on a disgusted look again. You turn your head and see Minho standing there just in a towel.

"Minho.."

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