#so I’d like push the two beds together so I could sleep in the middle and be squeezed together | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lieslab · 2 months ago

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You're smiling, as if nothing happened

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Jeongin X gn reader

Summary: Your boyfriend's band members have started to act funny when you're around.

Genre: Angst without a happy ending

Word Count: 2.7k

Trigger warning: Death and grief.

A/N: Another request sent into the vastness of the internet. Remember that you get what you ask for when you request it. I'm not legally held responsible if you cry. Good luck!! <3

_ _ _

And in those early morning moments, through the tendrils of golden sunlight, everything stayed perfect. The way your eyelashes kissed the tops of your cheeks. The bags beneath your eyes were permanent and you gave up fighting them a long time ago. Your hair tangled in ten different directions around your head. To you, another mess to deal with in the morning; to Jeongin, a hair of halo.

Before you slept, his lips found your face. So soft and gentle, he grew afraid of waking you up. Affection with you had been easy from the moment he met you. Not big on skinship, you changed that in a matter of days. He was the first to reach out and grab your hand.

Under the steady blanket of falling snow, the streets dampened with faint streetlights. In the middle of the night, the world slept, but not the two of you. High on the love oozing from your hearts, two people in love, two bodies and yet; it always felt like one heart conjoined and beating together.

He remembered the way it felt to wrap his hands around your waist. So eager and excited to impress you with his newfound strength, he grabbed your hips and swung you around with a pearly white grin. Your arms found his forearms and you laughed and laughed and laughed.

When the dusting of the past settled, he watched you sleep. Staring at the pieces of your face you picked apart and hated. Your flaws made you human in his eyes, but to you, they were reasons to unstitch and unravel self-love. He always reminded you to love yourself.

Day in and day out, his love for you lapped at your feet like foamy white waves. When you went into work early, you appeared in the kitchen, groggy and rubbing your eyes. Grumbling under a minty breath how unfair the world of capitalism is, Jeongin’s lips met yours. He’d push your lunchbox into your hands. Full of all your favorite goods, he’d been cooking for you.

He still cooked for you. He’d always cook for you. It didn’t matter how many tries it took to perfect the hand crafted dumplings or the steaming bowls of soup. Over or under seasoned, he didn’t care. He just wanted everything to make you happy.

Your happiness has always been the best thing about you. The world turned brighter when you were happy. Your face softened and your eyes sparkled. Your smile imprinted on his brain and it never left. You wore happiness the best. Even if you were naked, as long as you were happy, you’d always look beautiful in his eyes.

He leaned over, kissed the center of your forehead, and pushed himself out of the bed. He rolled carefully, trying not to bother your sleeping form. “Good morning, sweetheart.” He whispered. “I’m going to go make you breakfast. I’ll be back soon.”

He left with fading footsteps. He walked further and further away, trying not to wake you up. The creak of an opening door and the sudden sound of silence. The only thing left in the room, the faint sound of the humming fan.

The floorboards creaked beneath his feet. In the kitchen, Chan sat with a small porcelain plate. “Good morning, how are you?” He put down one of his hard boiled eggs. “Are you hungry? I made hard boiled eggs.”

“I am, but not for eggs. You know how much my baby loves pancakes and bacon.” He laughed at his words and bent down to pull out a skillet. “I’d do anything for them. They’re still asleep, but I want to surprise them with breakfast in bed.”

Chan’s face slightly fell, but before Jeongin could catch it, he smiled. “Tell them I said good morning, will you? I’ve got to finish eating and go work on a song with Han and Changbin.”

“Of course, hyung.” _ _ _

“You’re here!” Jeongin shoved himself to his feet. He rushed across the dance floor, his shoes skidded, but it didn’t stop him. “I thought you were never coming!”

“Who is here?” Across the way, Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. He glanced between the two of you with a tipped head. “What?”

“Don’t be stupid, hyung. Come in, come in! Make yourself comfortable on the couch. We only have about twenty minutes left of dance practice. Hyunjin and I have been working our asses off.”

You laughed and followed him, letting him lead you over to the couch. Across the way, Hyunjin’s eyes followed your form. He swallowed the lump in his throat and glanced at the floor-to-wall mirror in front of him.

“We’ve only been practicing so much because you’re struggling with the dance, Innie.”

“He’s such a pain in my ass. Tell him to stop treating me so harshly. I’ll be back as soon as we’re finished.” He squeezed your hand, let his lips find the top of your head, and walked back over to Hyunjin. “Where were we?”

“Last verse. Five, six, seven, eight.”

_ _ _

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed with his eyes on the screen. Beside him, Seungmin’s character on Mario Kart threw a banana over his head. “Ha! Suck it!”

“You fucking cunt!” Felix cried. “I’m already in fifth place and you’re in second! What more do you want from me?”

“I want you in eighth, so I know my victory can be secured. If you’ve got a problem, get better at getting power-ups.”

“You suck.”

“And you swallow.”

The sound of video game controls clicked and filled the air rapidly. At another point, Felix leaned over and jabbed a pointy elbow in Seungmin’s side. “Take that!”

“Each my shit!”

The bickering and laughter, the fight for first place went on for a while. As Seungmin’s character crossed the finish line, he jumped to his feet. “Take that! Suck it!!”

“You only won because you shoved the controller out of my hand! I want a rematch!”

The two bickered back and forth until the front door opened. Jeongin appeared with you in tow. The two of you kicked off your shoes and Jeongin tugged you into the living room. “What are you losers doing?”

“Felix is mad because I made him look like a loser in Mario Kart.”

“Hey! I still want my rematch! Best out of three and we can settle this.”

“Do you want to play? I can get out another controller.”

“No thanks. We just came back from date night. We went to the Han River and had ramen. Spicy ramen, actually. My stomach hurts and it’s pretty late.” Jeongin glanced over at you and smiled. “So maybe tomorrow. See you guys in the morning!”

You waved behind Jeongin and followed him into the bedroom. The door slipped shut and Jeongin sighed. “I don’t know what’s up with the guys lately. Every time we interact, it’s like they’ve seen a ghost or something.”

He looked over at you and you shrugged. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “At least, I have you and that’s all that matters. Maybe they’re working on a surprise or something. Who knows. They’re always silly sometimes.”

Your eyes shut and you pressed your hands against his. He gasped and jerked his hands from your waist. “Oh my god, you’re so cold! Quick, into bed, let’s warm you up!”

When he threw open the comforter and covers, you climbed beside him. Your head pressed against his chest and your eyes shut. The warmth of the blankets surrounded the two of you. Jeongin curled the blankets over your bodies and hunkered down.

As long as he kept away the cold, the two of you would remain safe.

_ _ _

“Wake up.”

Jeongin’s eyes groggily opened at the sound of a voice. Minho stood over him dressed in a black jacket. He groaned and spun around, trying to find comfort in your sleeping form.

“Leave me alone, hyung, we’re sleeping.”

“Get up, Jeongin.”

Something about his tone of voice shifted something within the younger member. He paused, hesitated, but finally pushed the blankets off his body. He spun around, making sure he tucked you in, before following Minho outside of his bedroom.

“What is it? What’s so important that it requires me getting up so early? We’re not working today and-”

Minho didn’t give him a full chance to object. “Come on. Put on some proper clothes, grab a jacket, and let’s go.”

Jeongin grumbled, but ultimately he followed what Minho wanted. When he reappeared, Minho led him outside and into the car. He refused to give any hint of where they were going. Jeongin’s head slipped against the back headrest. He began to nod off again.

The world blurred and unconsciousness took him captive. When he reawoke a few minutes later, his eyes fluttered open at the sound of a slamming car door. Groggy eyes glanced over to find Minho missing until his own car door tugged open.

He groaned. A burst of cold air brushed against his cheek. “Where are we and why?”

“Just come on.” Minho unclipped his seatbelt and tugged him out of the car. He didn’t pull his hand away until they were out of the vehicle.

When Jeongin saw where they were, his eyes widened. His throat constructed and the words came out in a shrill panic. “I don’t want to be here!” He steered himself around, but Minho grabbed the back of his coat.

“I know you don’t. None of us want to be here, but you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep pretending that it’s not real. We know deep down that you know none of it’s real.”

Distant footsteps grew closer. Cloudy gray skies stretched overhead like torn cotton. An invisible weight pressed against his lungs. He searched everywhere, looking for the comfort of you, but you never appeared. You never would.

“Don’t m-make me do this,” he croaked. “I-I can’t do this. I can’t!” His head shook rapidly. Messy tendrils of black hair flew around. “You can’t!”

The rest of the members began to appear from across the way. Some with bowed heads and tears in their eyes. Jeongin jerked hard, trying to steer clear of Minho’s iron grip again. It didn’t work.

“Don’t make me do this, Channie hyung, please.” He whispered in desperation. A lump ballooned in his throat.

His leader stood across the way. Chan that he leaned on when everything went wrong. Chan missed you almost as much as Jeongin did. They all missed you.

As radiant as the sun and as lovely as the moon, you were difficult to forget. When they lost you, the world went dark. The heart of their youngest member collapsed and so did his reality. Illusions formed to protect him from the truth. What hurt the most, it’d always be the gaps in their heart formed in the shape of you.

“Please,” Chan uttered. “For us. For them.”

“No!” Tears streamed down his cheeks. The tender hurt burst and the pus steam railed from his heart. He shook his head rapidly again. “You can’t make me do this!”

His foot hit the frozen ground. “You can’t make me! You can’t!” The words echoed those of an angry toddler, but they wouldn’t give up. Everyone accepted this besides him.

“Please, Innie. You’re worrying all of us. We’re trying to do what’s best for you.” Hyunjin stepped forward. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Fuck you!” He spat. “Fuck all of you!” A fist swung, but Minho dodged. Up to date on his boxing lessons, he’d grown steady in his quick reaction times. His leg jerked out and swept Jeongin’s legs from beneath him.

He sucked in a sharp breath and collapsed against the ground. The tip of his chin smacked frosted grass. It dampened the knees of his jeans and stained the front of his coat. He started to shove himself up, but that’s when he caught part of your name.

Etched delicately into a cement stone, your first and last name. The date of your birthday and the day you took your last breath. It all came crashing back. The screaming. The sobbing. The way he held you, begging you to come back from the great beyond.

You unleashed a labyrinth of suffering for everyone. The pain floated between lungs and clenched hearts. Love for you dissolved into hatred. A life cycle of grief that took a long time to unravel. For some, it was quicker and for others, like Jeongin, he didn’t dare leave the denial stage.

Denial meant admitting that you were really gone. Gone. You didn’t exist. Ever since that last day at the hospital, you never existed outside of his head. Swallowing the realization that you were gone meant losing everything.

There were no more early mornings together. The sun highlighted your abandoned side of the bed. The pillow still kept its indentation of your head. He couldn’t fathom moving it and getting rid of the last few bits of your existence.

He ate pancakes and bacon alone. Talking to nothingness, pretending it was you. He set a plate beside him, but it always remained untouched. When he left for the day, Chan snuck into your bedroom and took out the food, trying to make it all a little easier.

The day you appeared in dance practice, it never happened. Hyunjin stared confused between Jeongin and the air. Jeongin reached out and grabbed nothing. He led himself over to the couch. Reaching down, his lips never met anything.

Coming back home from your date, his hand stuck out with his fingers wrapped around the palm of his own hand. Felix and Seungmin sat unprovoking because they knew. They knew how much unrest and hurt your sudden disappearance left.

Death would always be cruel. Hitting at the wrong times. Stealing away loved ones before dreams are accomplished. Taking away good people in the most brutal ways possible.

When your mental health took a nosedive, Jeongin tried to save you. He gave you extra kisses. He held you close. He tried to convince you that you weren’t the person your brain made you out to be, but in the end, your head won.

When he came home, you were already gone. He sat beside you in the ambulance numb. Paramedics tried to bring you back, but you already settled into a slot on the other side. No amount of regret could bring you back from this.

A loud sob fell from Jeongin’s lips. His fingers dug into the ground and he pulled himself to your grave. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his eyes squeezed shut. “I-I can save you, j-just come back. Come back to me.”

A hand slammed over Felix’s mouth, trying to keep back the sobs. Seungmin, a man always vowing to never let others see him cry, today that promise broke. Tears dampened his eyes and he didn’t bother turning around to hide them from the group.

Han’s heart cracked open like a walnut. His bottom lip quivered. He reached out and grabbed onto Felix, a desperate attempt to keep both of them stable. Changbin appeared and tugged both of them into his chest.

“It’s not fair! It’s not fair! It’s not fair!” Jeongin slammed his head hard against the concrete slab, causing a fit of gasps.

Minho and Chan rushed forward. They grabbed his arms and tugged him back. The tops of his cheeks coated red. Snot dripped from his nose, but he didn’t care. How could he? The love of his life had been gone for months. He remained stuck in his denial.

His legs buckled as he sobbed. Both Chan and Minho followed him to the ground, trying to comfort him. An arm went around his shoulders. A hand squeezed his own. He sobbed harder and harder, trying to swallow the harsh reality.

Maybe you really had only been a hallucination, but he wasn’t sure if he was prepared to live this life without you. As above, so below; life in one soul, the vacuum of death in another.

How does a person cope when their lover is dead?

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

P ~ S: Now that you've reached the end, I can tell you that this request was inspired by Jeongin's hallucination song and it won't spoil the twist.

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz

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#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #yang jeongin #yang jeongin stray kids #yang jeongin skz #yang jeongin scenarios #yang jeongin fanfic #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x you #yang jeongin x y/n #jeongin angst

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organic-bloodbath · 1 month ago

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3 times a charm (or maybe the 6th) - Part 2

Niragi x Reader

Summary: You're separated from Arisu and Usagi, now traveling the deserted Tokyo alone with Niragi.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, 80% is just smut.

A/N: Practicing to write proper smut, i'm not the best at it bear with me pls i'm trying thanks. I've been craving to use this trope so long.

Part 1 ♤ Part 3

♤♧

You were separated from Arisu, Kuina and Usagi and were left with only Niragi now.

Amazing.

"You know, you don't have to pretend that you hate me," Niragi advised. "Must drain some amount of energy out of you."

"I don't hate you," you admitted without looking at him. "But i don't like you either."

"Mhm," Niragi hummed, eyeing you with narrowed eyes. "Didn't sound like it when i fucked you against the container."

"Shut up," you mumbled and tried to ignore him. "Enjoying sex doesn't equal to necessarily liking that person, mind you."

Niragi just grinned. “So, you admit that you enjoyed it, hm?”

You stopped and turned to look at him. “If I say I didn’t, are you just going to strip and fuck me again in the middle of this street to prove a point?” you asked, hands on your hips.

“Well, there’s nobody around now, is there? I’d be more than happy to ravish you again against that lamp pole over there.”

“Fine, I liked it,” you admitted. “But not enough to become a street prostitute.”

You kept walking forward, having no specific direction in your mind, fully knowing that his gaze was almost certainly on your ass, but you didn’t care right now.

“We’ll have such a great time together, princess,” Niragi mumbled, low enough that you didn’t hear him.

♤♧

It was raining hard outside, and both of you were soaking wet already and in an urgent need to find a shelter as soon as possible. Anywhere you could hide from the rain.

You eventually came across an empty apartment, the front door slightly open so you could enter inside.

As you walked around the few rooms, nobody was at home. The entire house had been ransacked from most useful items, the people who had lived there had clearly left this place long ago.

Arriving to the bedroom, you found out one thing you weren’t entirely happy with — there was only one bed. In the living room there was no couch either, only two armchairs.

"You'll get the armchair," you stated.

"How is that fair? I want to lay down when i sleep, not fucking sit."

"Make it work, i don't care."

You were shivering in your wet clothes, wanting to get them off as soon as possible but you weren't a big fan of stripping in front of Niragi.

Luckily for you, there was a closet full of clothes, some of them exactly your size too. You pulled a t-shirt and shorts there, not finding longer pants anywhere. Were these people dressing up only for summer?

“Fetch me a towel,” you commanded Niragi. It didn't come off as a request.

“What am I, your servant?” he scoffed, raising his eyebrows.

“A towel, now,” you repeated with a stern voice.

He eventually complied and left you alone for a moment. You pulled your wet shirt over your head and put it to dry on the back of a chair.

“Looking good, sweetheart,” Niragi grinned as he had returned to you, faster than you had expected. He was eyeing you from head to toe with his hungry glare, leaning against the door frame and adoring your bare back. You knew he’d be looking but right now you didn’t care. All you cared about was dry clothes and getting warm again.

“I know,” you sarcastically replied and took the towel from him. You started drying your arms, until felt Niragi’s body glue on yours behind you, hands resting on your hips.

“I could dry and warm you up, you know,” he whispered into your ear. “Better than that towel could.”

“I can do it myself, thanks,” you responded coldly and pushed him away.

You were more than ready to go to sleep, it had been a while since you had been able to sleep in a real bed. Definitely not since the Beach.

You laid yourself on the bed, Niragi joining you right after. He had taken his shirt and pants off, leaving him only in his underwear, not caring to borrow someone else's clothes.

You turned to lay on your side, your back facing Niragi. The window in the room wasn’t entirely closed, there was a small gap which brought chilly air inside the room, and you weren’t able to close it because of the slightly wrong position the hinges had been installed.

Niragi noticed how you were shivering under the blanket you were sharing. He scooped a little closer to you, the heat of his body already radiating towards you.

"Come on, baby. Let me warm you up," Niragi murmured and brushed his hand against your shoulder. Warm hand. His touch was so warm you wanted to give in and lean on it, merge your bodies into one.

"Call me 'baby' one more time and i'll break your wrist," you threatened seriously.

"I like it when you’re feisty," Niragi smirked. "Keep it up, makes me even more aroused than I already am."

He pressed his chest against your back, making you to want to let out a sigh of the warmth he was giving to you. He put his hand on your stomach, gently rubbing circles on it and sending you shivers.

"Niragi," you mumbled and grabbed his wrist, trying to stop him from going any further.

"Shh," he interrupted and rested his hand on your hip, pulling your lower body tighter against him, your ass rubbing against his crotch. "Let me make you feel good, okay? I'll warm you up better than any other man could."

His fingers played with the waistband of your shorts, not just yet going inside.

"I'd prefer to just go to sleep," you refused, closing your eyes. You were fully aware that he wouldn't stop unless you broke his nose or kicked him on the crotch.

"But i'm not tired yet, baby girl. Please make me tired, yeah?"

Niragi knew you wanted him as bad as he wanted you, it was clear to both of you. You tried to resist his touch the best you could but deep inside you wanted him to ruin you again. Niragi knew that deep down he had you wrapped around his finger - or would have very soon. If you truly didn't want him to touch you, you would have slapped his hand away the moment he laid a single finger against your skin and kicked him off the bed, forcing him to take the floor. If you didn't want him, he wouldn't be here holding you like this. His grip wasn't hard enough for you to be unable to free yourself from him - if that was what you wanted.

Niragi could read you better than you thought: you craved to be touched but was only stubborn to give yourself to a man like him easily.

He let his hand slowly slide inside your borrowed shorts, rubbing your clit against the fabric of your panties. Your eyes shot wide open, and you sucked in a breath, biting your lip not to let any other sounds come out of your mouth.

"I'm all yours, let me make you feel good," he whispered, breath hot against your ear, while he slid his finger against your folds, feeling the wet spot on the fabric.

He pushed the panties aside a little, touching your wet pussy with the tip of his finger. Just the slight contact of his finger already managed to make you gasp, which was a clear enough sign to Niragi that you truly needed someone to touch you.

“So wet already,” Niragi murmured. “Just for me? I know you need a release just as bad as I do.”

When you didn't push his hand away, he pushed the tip of his finger inside you, just an inch, and pressed his finger against your entrance, starting to slowly stretch the opening and stimulating all the nerve endings. He inserted another finger, again just an inch against the entrance, stretching and massaging, making you more and more wet.

You let out another gasp, now slightly louder than the previous one. He felt himself slowly becoming hard as well against his boxers, already imagining the picture of him being on top of you and fucking you dumb. He wanted to just grab you, rip your clothes off and take you, but he also wanted to take it slow. Cherish every moment, every second, with you. Listen to your needs and what made you feel good, not just think of pleasuring himself and then be done with you.

Eventually he pushed the two fingers completely inside your pussy in one go, until his knuckles hit your pussy, making you shiver in pleasure. You let a whimper out of your mouth, then biting your lip.

"Look at me," Niragi whispered, making you slowly stretch your neck to look at him over your shoulder. His pupils were dilated, lust and hunger for your body visible in his eyes. "Say that you want me to fuck you right now."

"You're asking me for my consent when you're already two fingers deep inside me?"

"I can pull out," he pointed out. “I can pull out, let you sleep and jack off by myself. Your call, hm?”

"I'm not going to start begging you to fuck me," you scoffed. "I'm-"

But your words were interrupted when he suddenly curled his fingers inside you, remembering just the right spot which made you go insane. A deep moan left out of your chest.

"Want me to do it again, hm?" he asked. “All you gotta do is just say the word.”

"I'm not going to beg," you gritted your teeth. Oh, he was going to make you beg.

He put more pressure on your clit with his thumb, rolling it against your bud in small circle patterns. You gritted your teeth harder together, sucking in a breath.

Just give up and let him fuck you stupid, the ache and need in your vagina whispered.

"You can stop resisting me, pretending to be hard to get is starting to get old," he said, narrowing his eyes when you didn't respond. "Alright then."

Niragi pulled his fingers out and let go of you. He wasn't done with you, no, not even close. He knew he had already managed to arouse and turn you on enough that you wouldn't be able to sleep before you'd experience an orgasm or two - maybe even three if he really managed to make you go feral. Leaving you hanging would make you crawl back to him, and if it didn't, you had much more willpower and stubbornness in you than Niragi expected.

Your eyes grew wider when his touch was gone, your pussy aching for more of him, needing to be filled. He had started this game and you had to finish it.

"Are you fucking serious?" you asked and turned to lay on your back, pushing yourself up to lay against your elbows.

"What? Is it so wrong to ask for a girl's consent, hm?" Niragi asked innocently. Then, his eyes grew a little wider and a grin spread on his face. "Oh, you’re one of those non-consent type of freaks, huh?"

A smirk on his face was now wide as he crawled on top of you, knees pressing against the mattress on both sides of your hips, the bulge in his boxers rubbing against your pussy. He leaned his face slowly closer to yours.

"I can work with that, you know," he purred, looking suddenly almost excited. “That’s why you played so hard to get at the Beach? Should have guessed.”

“I like consent very much, mind you,” you stated.

“Yeah?” he asked, examining your face whether he was making you uncomfortable but you showed no signs of it. You acted calm and unbothered, which Niragi wanted to erase. “Let me know when you want me to stop then. Say… hm. Say ‘clubs’ when you really want to stop, yeah?”

Niragi waited for a second to see that your brain had processed his words, until he brought his hand back on your stomach, sliding it under your panties now sooner than before.

You let out a scream when he pushed two fingers instantly inside you and started to pump them in and out of you in a fast pace - he was done playing sweet and slow now that you were wet enough for him. He curled his fingers against your walls, rubbing them on just the right spots. You weren’t prepared that he’d start fucking you with two fingers immediately, seeing how slow he had been with exploring your pussy a moment ago.

You didn't want to admit it, of course you didn't, but you needed his touch again. Not necessarily him specifically, but someone to touch you and get you off. Throwing yourself at him felt like giving up but you had started not to care about anything anymore. You simply craved to be filled, and Niragi was your only option right now – and he certainly knew exactly what he was doing and was good at it. He was extremely quick to learn your body and what made you feel good.

Niragi didn’t remove his gaze from your face even for a single second when he fucked you with his fingers, wanting to see every expression of pleasure on your face how much you were enjoying this. His touch. How good he managed to make you feel.

“Oh, oh my god,” you moaned. “Right there.” You were in complete ecstasy and would never want this feeling to stop. Then, he moved his fingers to another spot, waking you up from the trance for a second. “Wait, can you do that again?”

“Hm? This?” Niragi smirked, doing the same thing again which made you go absolutely feral.

You gasped, digging your nails into his skin next to his shoulder blades.

"Fuck," you whimpered.

“Cum on my fingers, baby girl,” Niragi purred into your ear.

And you did, your pussy clenching against his fingers while the orgasm waved through your limbs, legs shaking and shivering.

Niragi pulled his fingers out of you, licking his fingers clean from your juices. You were panting hard, shook from the orgasm which you just experienced.

“Was it good?” Niragi asked, brushing his thumb against your chin.

You nodded, cheeks warming up a little of the question which sounded almost comforting. “Yeah, it was good.”

“Your turn then,” he whispered, his finger brushing over your lower lip.

He grabbed your elbow and dragged both of you out of the bed, him standing on the floor and you sitting on the edge of the bed.

You looked down and saw the bulge on Niragi’s crotch, his cock already uncomfortably hard under his underwear, which he was quick to take off and drop on his ankles.

You swallowed when you look at his hardened cock — it was definitely thick and long and looking at it now right in front of you, you weren’t sure how you had been able to take it last time. The sight of him made you clench your thighs together, becoming even more wet of the thought how it was going to fit inside you. How he would feel inside you.

You sat on the floor on your knees and took his cock in your hand, rubbing the entire length a few times with your fingers, making him moan. You massaged his balls with your other hand, experimenting different ways to hold him to see what kind of reactions you could get out of him.

You pressed a soft kiss on the tip of his cock, making him twitch of the contact of your lips. He was just as sensitive as you had been under his touch. You took just couple of inches of him inside your mouth first, gently rolling your tongue around the tip. Niragi had the biggest urge to just grab your head, slam his cock deep into your throat and start fucking your face like there was no tomorrow, but he didn’t. He let you do your thing in the pace you wanted, even though the teasing was driving him crazy.

Then, you slowly slid him into your mouth as far as you could until you started to gag. For a moment you sucked him on a slow pace, taking him in just half way, his cock hitting the back of your mouth repeatedly.

Soon, when you felt like you were ready, you pushed your head down, swallowing as you took him even deeper into your mouth and throat. Tears were forming in your eyes, the feeling becoming too much but you wanted to take all of him. Wanting to please him like he had pleased you, making him see nothing but stars when you'd be done with him.

Make him feel better than any girl had made him feel ever before.

“Christ, woman. You take my cock in so good,” Niragi sighed, putting his hands on the both sides of your head. “Look at me.” You moved your gaze towards his face, making eye contact with him. “I’m going to fuck that pretty mouth, baby. That okay? Grab my leg if it’s too much, yeah?”

He started pushing his cock first slower in and out of your mouth, making sure you were able to take him well enough and not make you choke too bad. When he noticed you didn’t struggle as much anymore, he started moving your head faster. His hand gripped your hair tightly, his grip so rough your scalp started to hurt but you weren't going to complain. Tears were forming back into your eyes as your nose hit his pelvis, chin rubbing against his balls. You concentrated on breathing through your nose, the hot air tingling against his skin.

You sucked your cheeks inwards, making Niragi let out a loud moan.

“Oh, just like that, sweetheart,” he groaned, throwing his head back as he continued fucking your mouth. “Do that again.”

You could sense he was close but it was starting to become too much, you not able to handle it anymore. You grabbed Niragi’s thigh, just as he had said, squeezing his flesh hard with your fingers. He let go of your head, pulling himself out of his mouth. You coughed violently, throat sore and in slight pain, while he stroked his cock with his own hand a few times until he was about to cum.

“Swallow it,” Niragi grunted, pushing his cock back inside your mouth but not as deep anymore. “Swallow all of it like a good girl.”

And you did — at least most of it, until you started coughing again. Part of his cum flew on the floor with your spit, some of it falling down your chin.

Niragi pulled you up by grabbing your arm, your legs feeling slightly unstable. When you were standing up, he brushed the remaining cum on your face off with his fingers, then pushing them into your mouth. You licked and sucked his fingers clean.

“You look so pretty with my cum all over your face,” Niragi mumbled and pulled you into a deep kiss, his tongue brushing the sore parts of your mouth.

"Was it good?" you repeated his own question to him, which made him smile.

“That was so good, baby."

Niragi pushed you back to the bed and flipped you on your stomach. He pulled your hips towards him, lifting your ass in the air a little bit to meet his throbbing cock.

He placed the tip of his cock against your pussy, rubbing it against you but not pushing in yet.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Niragi, just do it already!” you shouted, growing more and more frustrated. You were about to push yourself up but Niragi was quick to push you back down, his hand on the back of your neck pressing you hard against the mattress.

“Beg for it,” Niragi ordered. “It’s not that hard. Just a few words.”

“Fuck me,” you mumbled. “Fuck me, okay!”

“As you wish,” Niragi murmured and without another word, he dug his fingers in your ass and slammed his cock inside you way faster than you had expected, making you let out a loud scream. “Good, scream as hard as you can, baby girl. I’ll fuck you so good your throat is sore after the night.”

Your throat was already sore from his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, but you kept your mouth shut about that, not wanting to grow his ego any bigger.

“God, you’re so tight,” Niragi mumbled, hitting your cervix with almost every thrust. He was building so much pressure inside you that it became even painful but the pleasure overcame the pain.

Sex with him was even better than last time - a lot better -, now that you were indoors and on a soft bed instead of outside, feeling just cold metal against your back. Last time was way more hurried because you had a timer running down second by second, but now? You had the entire night to hold and fuck each other as much as you wanted — and you knew Niragi wasn’t going to stop any time soon. He could handle you in the best ways possible, being rough but not enough to severely hurt you. He could do anything he wanted to you right now and you’d just take it.

Christ, you had wasted so much time for being so stubborn and rejecting him at the Beach.

His hips slammed against your ass with every thrust so hard you hit the bed frame once in a while, making your head hurt.

“Can we, oh god— Can we move back, a little, just a little bit,” you stuttered between the moans that forced their way out of your mouth. “M-my head hurts.”

He pulled out of you, grabbing your thighs and pulling you backwards a little. You groaned for the feeling of not having him inside you anymore, needing him to fill you completely. He flipped you back on your back, crawling on top of you.

He brushed a few strands of your hair out of your sweaty forehead. “Wouldn’t want my girl get a concussion,” he said quietly. His words somehow managed to make your heart flutter. My girl. Two simple words but they made butterflies spawn inside your stomach.

Niragi pressed his lips against yours, instantly pushing his tongue inside your mouth to explore every corner, going as deep towards your throat as he possibly could. He lined the tip of his cock back against your entrance, pushing inside and continued thrusting inside you with a fast pace while kissing you. He kept your hands against the mattress on both sides of your head, interlocking your fingers with his.

"Faster," you mumbled against his lips. "No, ah- harder."

You didn't think he'd be able to go any faster or harder but he proved you wrong, slamming his hips against you so hard the bed was shaking under you.

He moved his lips down on your neck, starting to suck on several different spots before he found the one which made you go crazy. It felt so good, but…

Wait, no. No, no, no.

“Niragi, wait,” you mumbled, trying to get your hands free from his grip but he pressed your palms against the mattress too hard for you to be able to do that. “Don’t, don’t make any bruises, okay?”

Niragi smirked against your skin, gently biting above your collarbone. “What, scared of me marking you and showing all the other men that you’re already someone else’s?”

He stopped his hips from moving for a second, having his entire length buried inside you and gently brushing your cheek as he looked into your eyes.

“Because, sweetheart, you already belong to me,” he whispered. “You’ll learn to admit it with words too some day.”

For a few seconds there was a little softer look in his eyes but it was gone as fast as it had appeared there. Or maybe you just wanted to see a slightly softer part of him and only imagined it — you weren’t sure.

He kept fucking you like that, violently thrusting in and out of you and hitting your cervix and g-spot repeatedly, not holding back at all, until your orgasm had started to build up so high that you felt like you’d explode soon.

“I’m, I’m close. So close,” you breathed out, clawing his back and wrapping your legs tighter around his waist — clinging on him like a koala on a tree branch.

“Me too, sweetheart,” he mumbled against your hair. Niragi was covered in sweat, his skin turning almost sticky.

Then, your walls clenched around his pulsing cock as you came, the orgasm waving through your body like a waterfall. You were clinging on him so hard it must have hurt him but you didn’t care about anything else than you being in his arms anymore. You arched your back, your toes curling and eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He slammed his cock inside you one more time, hips pressing against your pussy hard to keep his cock as deep as he possibly could inside you while he spilled every drop of his sperm into your uterus.

Then, his body fell limp against you, the weight of him almost suffocating you. He was out of breath and needed a moment to gather his strength back to lift himself off you.

When he laid down on his back next to you, he closed his eyes for a moment and took a few deep breaths. You thought you had already experienced mind blowing sex before, but with Niragi? This was way better than anything else you had ever had before.

Niragi got up and left the room, making you a little confused where he was going but he came back quite soon with a white towel. Your inner thighs were a messy mix of his and your cum, becoming sticky if it managed to dry on your skin. Niragi started rubbing the soft towel on your thighs, cleaning your legs the best he could.

He didn’t say a word during the process of cleaning you, and neither did you. You just admired him being so soft with you, compared to the roughness just a moment ago.

He threw the towel on the floor and laid the both of you down on the mattress.

“You know, I think i called you ‘baby’ several times and my wrists aren’t broken,” Niragi whispered. “I’m starting to think you like it.”

“I don’t,” you denied.

Maybe just a little, you thought.

“Mhm,” Niragi smirked.

You were ready to fall asleep and turned to lay on your side, putting a little distance between you and Niragi, but he wasn’t having it. Niragi grabbed your waist and pulled you back towards him until your back was fully against his chest.

He slowly moved his hand from your stomach to cup your right breast but you grabbed his wrist and placed it back on your waist.

“Goodnight, Niragi,” you said.

“You can’t blame a man for trying,” he smirked.

“Goodnight,” you repeated, closing your eyes.

Niragi pressed a soft kiss on your temple. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

♤♧

Queen of Spades

The next day, you walked to a game arena with Niragi, joining the other players there. It was some sort of a power plant with several floors and staircases.

You scanned the people there until your gaze landed on two familiar faces.

Arisu and Usagi.

Usagi saw you almost as fast as you her. She immediately tapped Arisu on his shoulder, getting his attention and pointing towards you and Niragi.

Niragi put his hand around your shoulder and waved at Arisu, a small smile on his face. Not exactly a ‘happy to see you, old friend’ smile though. You were quick to push his hand away from you and walked to Usagi.

“We’ve been so worried of you,” Usagi gasped and took you into a warm hug. “What happened to you?” She glanced at Niragi, a worry clear on her face. She lowered her voice, trying to prevent Niragi from hearing your conversation. “Are you… okay?”

“I’m fine,” you assured her, adding a little smile after your reply.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Usagi whispered, furrowing her eyebrows. She was entirely aware of what Niragi was capable of doing.

“No, I’m fine,” you confirmed. But apparently Niragi had heard Usagi’s question and approached closer to the two of you now.

“I’m hurt, sweetheart,” he gasped, his hand against his heart. “Now why would I ever hurt a pretty girl like Y/N?”

He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, a grin on his face. You slapped his hand away and walked towards Arisu to talk with him for a moment before the game would start. But you did feel your cheeks warming up and turn slightly pink, your mind grabbing that one compliment in the middle of his sentence - serious or not.

Niragi couldn’t help but grimace a little when he saw you smiling at something what another man said to you. He wanted to be the one to make you smile.

Just him.

♤♧

A man of the Queen's team pushed you over the edge, and you were holding on the railing for your dear life, hanging in the cold night air. The drop to the ground was at least 50 metres, probably more - enough to break your spine and crack your skull.

Enough to kill you.

This was it, you were going to die. Arisu and Usagi had ran elsewhere, they weren’t there to save you. All these games you had survived and now you were going to lose your life because you fell over an edge? How pathetic.

Your hand was just about to slip when someone grabbed your arm. You looked up at your savior.

Niragi.

"What do we have here, huh?” Niragi smirked. “A damsel in distress.”

“Are you claiming to be a prince to come for my rescue?” you scoffed. Your life was now completely in the hands of this man.

A man who could kill a person without regret. A man who didn’t get emotionally attached to anyone else. He could easily just let go and let you fall to your death. Did you matter anything to him? No, you were just a good fuck to him, of course you were. Were you worth saving? Hundreds of thoughts raced through your head in a short span of time.

Niragi pulled you up, instantly pulling you against him by your waist. He brushed your hair with his fingers and pressed your head on the crook of his neck, soothing you with his other hand brushing your back. You hugged him back, holding on him to try and calm down. Niragi felt your body trembling in his hold, not saying a word before you’d get yourself together. Your heart was beating fast, and you had to inhale deep breaths a few times, melting into his touch.

When you had recovered from the initial panic, you broke the hug and pushed yourself away from Niragi, but he kept his hands firmly on your hips.

"Now, what about a kiss for saving your life again?" Niragi suggested, lifting his right eyebrow, a cocky grin on his lips. Was he proud of acting all heroic towards you, being the one to save the day? Well, he had saved your life, so you had to be grateful for him.

"If i refuse, are you going to push me over the railing, just to save me again until i finally agree to kiss you?"

"You know me so well, sweetheart," Niragi smirked, rubbing your shoulders.

You grabbed his head so that this time he wouldn't be able to turn it around. You pressed a quick kiss on his cheek, scarred skin feeling rough against your lips. You started to run away from him towards the place where other players were — the game wasn’t yet over —, leaving Niragi on his own for a moment.

"What a tease," Niragi mumbled with a smile on his face, touching the spot on his cheek you had just kissed.

Niragi caught up with you and grabbed your elbow, yanking you towards him and making you crash on his chest. You tried to push him off but he had a tight grip on your waist now with both of his hands.

"You've let me fuck you dumb twice but now you refuse to simply kiss me," Niragi stated and narrowed his eyes. "Now, why's that? Because there's other people around who could see us, hm? You embarrassed of me, sweetheart?"

You didn't answer. Were you embarrassed of being seen with him? If Arisu or Usagi saw you two together, they'd definitely think something was wrong with you. Usually you didn't give a damn what other people thought of you, but for some reason you wanted to keep Niragi a secret. But was it embarrassment or something else? You weren't sure.

"I'm not embarrassed," you denied but he didn't seem to believe you.

"Mhm," he hummed, letting go of you after eyeing you a few moments longer.

Why did he look a little… upset? Nah, of course you just imagined it.

“So, you wouldn’t mind to do the cheek kiss in front of your little friends?” he tested you.

“What, you want to make us look like an official couple or something?” you scoffed, just joking and raising your eyebrows. He stood now right in front of you, only an inch or two between your bodies as he was towering over you.

“We don’t have to be a couple but you’re still mine,” he murmured, his forefinger under your chin.

“Again, you don’t claim me,” you stated seriously.

“Tell yourself what you want, baby girl,” Niragi said and pressed his hand on the back of your neck, leaning closer to your face, brushing his lips gently past your cheek. “But your pussy will throb only for my cock.”

Shivers traveled down your spine, making you suck in a quick breath. A grin spread on his face, he could read you so well and tell that he had gotten you all to himself.

“I could fuck you against that railing too, I wouldn’t mind other players run past us,” Niragi murmured. “Just give me the word and I’ll take you anywhere you want.”

Looking into your eyes, Niragi realized one thing. He’d do anything for you, anything you asked for him to do. He’d kill any man who’d ever hurt you. He’d pleasure you in the ways that made you see stars and make you feel like you were in a paradise instead of this hellhole. He’d kneel in front of you like a peasant to his queen. Just a word and he’d do anything you wanted.

Did it sting his heart that you didn’t want others see Niragi touching you? It did, a little — but it was better to have you in secret than not at all.

You weren’t only all his — he was also all yours.

♤♧

#alice in borderland x reader #aib imagine #alice in borderland imagine #niragi smut #niragi x reader #niragi imagine #suguru niragi #aib x reader #aib niragi

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macabrebatz · 5 months ago

Text

A SIGHT TO BEHOLD (Logan Howlett/Wade Wilson/F!Reader)

Summary: Wade gets spit-roasted. That’s it.

Author’s note: This is my first time writing a smut one-shot! I literally don’t know how I feel about how this came out. I had a dream about this exact scenario involving Wade and I woke up in the middle of the night to write it. Literally had to write out my fantasy so I could go back to sleep. I hope you enjoy it because I’m NERVOUS. I’m a mere newbie smut writer.

Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, MMF threesome, Wade gets some special treatment, or in other words you & Logan fuck Wade, pegging/anal (m!receiving), oral (m!receiving), throat fucking, a little bit of voyeurism, established relationship, open relationship, Honda odyssey mentioned lol, self indulgent, not beta read

Word count: 2036

Logan didn’t intend to interrupt. He was headed to the bedroom, about to go take a nap when he heard it. A quiet moan from an all too familiar voice. Logan found himself quietly walking down the hall of the apartment, listening to the sounds. The door was cracked open just a bit and from his position in the hallway, he could see your nude body hovering over Wade.

For a moment, he turned to walk away, to leave the apartment for a bit and let you two have your moment. Logan and Wade had their fair share of you together and you and Logan had plenty of fun alone as well. But the sound of Wade's moaning and your soft voice talking to him piqued his curiosity. It was calling him in like a siren’s song.

He slowly pushed the door open. Wade was laid out in front of you, his head buried in the covers of the bed with his ass up. You were between his legs, slowly pushing into him with a red strap on.

Logan’s hand pushed the door a bit more, causing it to creak. You turned your head at the sound.

“Hey, Logan,” you said with a smile.

“Well, ain’t that a nice sight to see. Never seen you so speechless, Wilson. She’s barely even gotten started yet,” Logan said.

He leaned on the doorway, watching the two of you. Wade looked up from his place below you as you paused mid-thrust. Your hand gently rested on Wade’s back.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t take you for the type of guy to watch in the corner but here we are, Peanut,” Wade said, glancing at him.

Logan rolled his eyes a bit. A small smirk was forming on his lips.

“Couldn’t help myself. All of those sweet sounds you were making,” Logan trailed off.

“Glad you like it,” Wade said, pushing his hips back a bit.

“You’re welcome to join us, Logan. It’s been so long since the last time,” you said, slowly thrusting the rest of the way into Wade.

He let out a whimper, laying his head to the side away from Logan.

“Fuck,” he moaned, pushing back against you.

Logan walked over to you, putting his hand on the nape of your neck. He pulled your head back, making you look up at him.

“As much as I’d love to, Princess. I think watching you two is enough this time around,” Logan said.

He kissed you on the lips and then the cheek.

“I knew it. You hear that, he’s one of those guys that watches in the corner. I mean, I’m not complaining or anything,” Wade said.

Logan pulled away from you and slowly walked around the bed, staring at the two of you before kicking off his shoes and sitting near the head of the bed.

You leaned down, leaving a trail of kisses up Wade's back. You lingered, kissing his shoulder and then his neck.

“Shall we continue?” you asked quietly.

Wade nodded his head.

You leaned back, gripping Wade’s waist, and pulled him in closer. The bed began to creak as you began to slowly thrust your hips back and forth.

Your thumb grazed against his skin, drawing little circles on his side. You wanted to take your time with Wade. Your thrusts were agonizingly slow and drawn out, each one drawing out a long moan from Wade’s lips. With each thrust of your hips, you would fill him to the hilt with the toy before almost pulling out. And you'd stay like that sometimes, with just the head of the silicone cock in him before he was begging and pushing back onto it.

This wasn’t the first time that you had gotten Wade in this position but it was the first time Logan had ever seen either of you like this. When Logan was involved it was usually you getting fucked. You didn’t mind being passed around by Wade and Logan nor did you mind being sandwiched between them. You enjoyed it a lot. But today it was Wade's turn.

His hands gripped the side of the bed, burying his fingers into the sheet. You had barely even started to fuck him and he was already a mess.

“Fuck, oh my god,” Wade mumbled into the bed.

Logan was sprawled out on the bed, his head resting on the headboard. He had already taken off his shirt. He unbuckled his jeans and one of his hands rested on his knee, the other slipped into his pants and palmed his growing erection.

You rubbed your hand across Wade's ass, squeezing a bit as you picked up speed.

Logan shifted where he sat as he pushed his pants and boxers past his hips. His erection flopped out, resting against his abdomen. He reached down stroking his dick. His thumb grazed across the head, smearing a bit of precum over it.

“Enjoying the…show?” Wade questioned in between moans, turning his head to look at Logan.

“You know I am,” he said.

His chest heaved a bit as he jerked himself off. His eyes scanned across the scene before him.

Wade's head rested on the bed, his hands still holding onto the blanket. His eyes were locked on Logan's cock. You had a grin on your face as you continued to pump the strap-on into the merc beneath you. Your breasts jiggled ever so slightly with every thrust. Logan moaned as his cock pumped into his hand. It truly was a sight to behold and Logan wasn’t sure how long he’d last watching you and Wade. Every time you’d glance over at him, locking your eyes on him. Every time a little whine or a quiet plea would escape Wade’s lips. It was enough to drive him crazy.

You were in a trance. Wade was falling apart. You had bent him over in just a way that was causing you to hit that sweet spot in him with every thrust. You weren’t being stimulated but the sound of Wade's whimpers, Logan’s moans, and the lewd sound of every thrust was almost enough to make you come.

“Ah, fuck. Please go harder, baby,” Wade begged.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Your hands gripped his waist a bit tighter and you picked up speed. Wade's jaw fell and his eyes squeezed shut, his brow furrowing.

“Oh my god, yes,” he moaned.

He gripped the bed tighter, whimpering as you pounded into him. If he latched onto the bed any harder you swore he could’ve ripped holes through the sheets. He whispered something about his cock which had been hard and throbbing since you had first begun. And now it slid back and forth on the covers with every thrust. You knew he couldn’t take it much longer. And neither could Logan who was so close to the edge.

His hips thrust into the air as he watched Wade become undone below you. The bed shifted a bit as Logan stood up and walked over to Wade, cock in hand. You watched him saunter over to Wade, figuring he had decided that he was done just watching. He needed more.

“Tired of being the guy in the corner?” Wade asked.

“Open,” Logan demanded.

Without another word, Wade parted his lips and let Logan fuck his mouth. Logan groaned at the feeling of Wade's warm mouth. He couldn’t help but thrust his hips causing Wade to gag a bit, drool dripping down his chin.

“Fuck, you’re so good, Wade,” Logan grunted.

He hummed in response, a small thank you, causing Logan’s hips to buck at the vibration.

Wade was close, you could tell. His thighs were trembling under your touch, something that often happened when he was on the edge.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you said.

You reached down, kissing his back.

Logan was close too. The thrusts of his hips had become erratic as he cupped the side of Wade's face. Wade had become a drooling mess, moaning around Logan’s cock. Logan had never received head from Wade before but you knew that it must’ve been good. Wade had always had a way with his tongue. There were many times when he had made you see stars while eating you out.

There was a particularly long moan from Wade, humming around Logan once more. And that was all it took.

Logan gently gripped the side of Wade's head, grunting as he pushed his cock further into Wade's mouth. His nose gently grazed against Logan’s pubic hair. Cum shot down his throat and he swallowed around Logan’s cock.

“Knew you’d be good with your mouth,” Logan said.

You were still thrusting into him as he removed his mouth from around Logan. Logan sat back down, this time in a chair directly across from you and Wade.

Wade had become unglued. The feeling of you fucking him, his cock moving against the bed, the taste of Logan still on his tongue. It was all too much.

“Please, please,” he whimpered.

“What do you want, baby?”

He could barely make a coherent sentence, mumbling about his cock and his desperate need to come. Whispering in incomplete sentences about how close he was. It was a bit unusual for both you and Logan. Wade was usually very mouthy in bed. But he was a sputtering mess. And you loved it. And by the looks of Logan, who was watching intently, he loved it too.

“Such a good boy,” you whispered.

Wade’s hips bucked into the bed, his head buried into the blankets. You placed a hand on his shoulder, pushing him harder into you.

“God, fuck. I’m gonna cum,” he groaned.

“Go ahead, baby. You’ve been so good for us,” you said.

You were moaning yourself, just the sight of Wade like this with Logan looking at the two of you was turning you on. You didn’t even need them to touch you.

Wade’s breath hitched, his mouth hanging agape. He was seeing stars, a white vignette around his eyes as he came. He rutted his hips against the bed as you pushed into him slowly. His body shuddered as he looked into Logan’s eyes in a silent wave of pleasure.

You slowly pulled out of Wade with a grin as he collapsed onto the bed, closing his eyes and panting. Logan had gotten up, disappearing into the bathroom. You unfastened the sex toy, taking it and the harness off, and sitting it aside.

You pulled Wade up, moving him towards the head of the bed. You lay down beside him, placing a kiss on his forehead. Logan emerged from the bathroom, wash rag in hand. He gently cleaned up Wade and tossed the rag aside into a hamper. Then Logan got into the bed, laying on the opposite side of Wade.

After a few moments of blissful silence, Wade spoke.

“That was fucking amazing. Holy fucking shit, who taught you how to do that?”

You giggled. It seemed Wade being speechless was only a temporary thing.

“What I’m hearing is that you enjoyed it?” you asked.

He nodded his head, smiling.

“And you,” he poked Logan in the chest, who huffed in response.

“You couldn’t resist me even if you tried. Honestly, I knew it. Ever since we were in that Honda Odyssey. I get not being able to resist her,” Wade pointed at you, “she’s perfect. But I guess it took you a bit to realize that I’m also a catch-“

Logan interrupted Wade, kissing him hard. It took Wade a bit by surprise but he softened, opening up and bringing his hand up to Logan’s face. You looked on from your position in the bed. Seeing them like this made you more happy than you had ever expected.

“Wait a minute. What about you?”

Wade pulled away from Logan’s kiss, turning his head to look at you.

“What about me?” you asked, curling up beside him.

“Last time I checked only two of us came,” Wade cooed.

“You know what, I think he’s right, Princess,” Logan chimed in.

The two men had mischievous looks in their eyes. You knew you were in for a long night.

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dojunie · 4 months ago

Text

MISDIAL; LJN [CH6] DND

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

very slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven

warnings for this chapter; none

chapter wc: 11k

a/n: i don't even have an excuse. when i tell you i was struggling with this... anyway, to not dwell on the bad, lets talk about the good; i rewrote the ending and finally feel excited about it, so hopefully i dont face another deeply evil and unforgiving block again. thank you for sticking around :)

current tl: @hibernatinghamster / @jenoxygen / @eaglesnotravens / @donutswithjaminthemiddle / @jvjsssnaa / @huangrenhyucks / @luvenshiti / @shiningdery / @jaeminsbebu / @aliceinwhateverland / @bebsky / @gem-gem / @jkjkseo / @jenosbliss / @pewpewpwe00 / @ti–red / @philanarose / @softbbyg0rl / @aaasteroidsky / @carelessshootanonymous / @en-boyz / @jlsavyy / @roseymerrie / @bangchanisemo / @skuezk / @jaehyuns-adorable-dimples / @ourbeautifulaffair / @jeonnyread / @jvjsssnaa / @episkeyjeno / @bockhyun / @jenojammin / @zarastrawberry / @peachie-bear / @itadaramaterasu / @alymii / @cuteejeno / @episkeyjeno / @nohunlee / @ooojisoo / @luv4jeno / @jydivrs / @pinkysinnerbaby / @jenojenoyes / @maeyoung / @axmdocs / @nctzennikki09 / @tynlvr / @saucyjaeyun /

OF ALL THE THINGS A GUY COULD CATCH YOU FAKING, BEING ASLEEP USUALLY ISN’T THE MOST MORTIFYING.

Usually, you take care to point out.

Because nine times out of ten, getting called out for pretending to be asleep is something to be mulled over with a laugh. Like when you pretend to doze off in the middle of a boring story to make your friends roll their eyes and get to the point, or when you’re young enough for it to still be feasible, in an attempt to get your parents to carry you to bed after a long car ride home. You know. That type of cute, charming thing.

But when there’s nothing cute or charming about the night you’ve just had, Jeno telling you point blank that he knows you’re awake (and has known you were awake the entire time) feels less like a joke that you’re both in on, and more like you’ve just been dropped naked into the middle of Times Square.

“Pizza doesn’t stay hot forever you know.”

Mortification rips through your body like a live current and you jerk around as if someone’s just cocked a shotgun behind your back.

You freeze afterwards, your head only turned enough just enough to peek over your shoulder, like there’s still some speck of a chance that Jeno isn’t actually talking to you— but that speck is swiftly sucked into the vacuum of reality when your eyes meet.

He’s smiling right at you. Eye-crescents and all. Arms folded over his chest, leaning back into the couch cushions like he’s just asked for you to change the channel instead of rouse from a fake nap.

“I was starting to think I’d have to roll you over.”

God forbid.

“How—” Your voice is several octaves too high for the feigned nonchalance you’re trying to push. You swallow. It doesn’t help. “How did you... know?”

“When I used to sleep over at your parents house I’d hear you snoring through the walls when I passed your room. Even through a foot of wood and plaster it still sounded like you were choking to death right out there in the hallway with me; after the pizza guy left I realized it was way, way too quiet in here. Put two and two together.”

On a different day this answer would’ve made your face burn for the next half an hour but considering the other bomb he’s just dropped, it doesn’t even register on the radar.

After the pizza guy left?

“You knew I was awake the entire time you were talking?”

“Of course.”

For five too-many beats, you’re staring at him like he’s just started speaking Simlish.

Your first instinct is to grimace, hard. Because how fucking stupid you must've looked curled up on the couch like that when he’d known from the very beginning that you were awake, stone still and pretending you couldn’t be seen like a toddler hiding behind the window curtains, Jesus— but before the embarrassment of that can really take shape and cringe you into a coma, the actual problem with his confession comes to light.

He… knew. He said all of that knowing that you were listening. High school, the graduation, the day you both met, everything.

He said he liked you back.

“What?” you finally manage. “But— Why? Why would you tell me all of that? Now?”

“Because after what happened on Saturday, I felt like I was being…” For the first time all night, maybe all week, Lee Jeno breaks eye-contact first. “I’m still having trouble figuring out the specifics but ‘unfair', might be the best fit. You told me how you felt and I only stood there and listened even though I knew I could’ve told you that it wasn’t nearly as unrequited as you thought, but I got nervous and then said something dumb and everything fell apart. Even if you still never talked to me again afterwards I needed to explain. To make sure you understood that it wasn’t just you who felt how you did.”

He laughs a little, sheepish, like he’s embarrassed. “I guess I overdid it with the trip through history, though. Just wanted you to know I was looking at you, too.”

You’re staring at him and he’s staring at the ground, neither of you seemingly knowing what to say to fill the following silence, when you see another thought shadow over his face and his gaze find you again.

“And I didn’t want you to think it was because of Mark.”

The mention of your brother snaps you out of your stunned reverie in an instant. "What?"

“I was scared of changing things between both me and you and me and him, back then. He didn’t tell me anything about you. I— That’s something I needed to say no matter what. I didn’t want you to think he’d do something like that.”

Without really meaning to, your eyes narrow.

Because. Well. Despite the words that have literally just left his lips about why you weren’t supposed to blame Mark for Lee Jeno never telling you how he felt while he still felt it, Mark Lee is already not your favorite person right now, and tar-like agitation bubbles to the surface anyway.

“So he might not have said anything to you. Okay. Sure. But because of the way he acted, you were under the impression that you’d lose him as a friend if you did like me. Right? You told me that yourself. You refused to even acknowledge the idea that you might’ve ‘liked me like that’ because it was clear how Mark felt about anyone who showed even the slightest interest in me. You said you ‘knew better.’”

You try to scoff. It comes out a little more like a sad, tired huff instead. “So yeah, actually, I think I will continue to think that Mark is the reason you didn’t say anything, because that’s the truth. He spent years and years and years finding something wrong with every guy who looked in my direction and because you felt like he’d throw you away too, you knew how I felt and did nothing when you felt the same way. No matter how you slice it, that’s what happened. That’s why I’m— That’s why I was so upset on the balcony. You understand that, right? Because if he hadn’t, Jeno, then things might’ve—”

Worked out for us, is what you’d been about to say, before you caught yourself.

Chills blossom up your spine. Wow. If those words aren’t a shrapnel-loaded bomb of obvious longing and regret, a flashing neon-sign clear with your inability to get the hell over the past, then you don’t know what is.

You must still be drunk. Or exhausted.

“He’s your best friend. We’re never going to see it the same way.”

The next words feel so heavy on your tongue, but you manage a smile anyway. “But you can forget about it now, if that’s what’s been keeping you up all week. Everything’s out now, right?”

Everything is clearly not out, if his split-second-too-long beat of silence means anything. But for your own sanity you pretend you don’t notice it. You pretend you can’t feel the tension underneath his perfectly blank expression, you pretend that your own secrets aren’t heating up in your mouth like hot coals, you pretend— like you’ve been doing a lot in his presence lately— that you’re completely fine with everything and anything and all of this especially. You’re fine.

You will be fine.

“Right,” Jeno says. “All out. So we’re… okay?”

“We’re okay.”

“No more avoiding?”

“Avoid—?”

Avoiding. Yeah. The past few hours have been such a clusterfuck that you nearly forgot the last six days of pointedly being anywhere other than where he was, pawning off the ‘coincidence’ on preparing for the showcase.

“I wasn’t… avoiding you. Not totally. Not explicitly. I was busy.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You haven’t looked in my direction once since last weekend. I was starting to think you’d seriously never talk to me again.”

You scowl. “Are you going to sit here and tell me you’re confused about why I might not have wanted to see you so soon after what happened on the balcony? Embarrassment was eating me alive. You should be lucky I stuck to being busy, instead of going with the Plan B of faking my own kidnapping.”

He laughs. Your eyes flicker back to him. The sound is soft and muted but it’s real; his eyes disappearing with it, the first time in what feels like days that the smile has really reached the rest of his face. It’s more reassuring than it has any right to be. When he says his next words, standing up to head for the kitchen, you can even manage a genuine smile in return.

“You didn’t sleep away your appetite, right?”

And of course you didn’t.

Actually, once you’re reminded of the pizza sitting on the coffee table (this time without anxiety subduing the hunger in your stomach) you realize that you’re properly ravenous; the last things you’d consumed today were a chocolate muffin and four cherry-flavored jello shots. And the hunger is clear, probably, in how you’re already halfway through a slice when Jeno returns with a pair of plates and two popped soda cans.

The game show (apparently European in production and definitely weirder than previously assumed) somehow becomes the main entertainment while you both eat; X-Men First Class isn’t brought up again despite it still clearly spinning around in the DVD player.

Things stay quiet.

Not the loaded kind of quiet, or any sort of painfully awkward silence. Just… quiet. Oddly relaxing. Much too comfortable. Once you’re done stuffing yourself, your fingers wiped of tomato sauce remnants and soda long ago finished, the couch pulls you further and further into its pillow-like cushions with every passing minute.

The first thing that either of you say after half an hour is when Jeno asks you for a translation for an English thing a contestant says that the subtitles don't catch, and your response comes after a badly stifled yawn. He, unfortunately, notices this.

“Why are you torturing yourself by staying up to watch this? If you’re tired, go to sleep.”

“M’ not that tired,” is your automatic reply. “And I want to know who wins. Cassandra needs that Prius.”

He sniffs under his breath, quietly, like you’re already asleep and he’s trying not to rouse you. You probably look half gone— you’re staring at the TV through slits, your posture on his couch closer to horizontal than vertical— but you don’t want to admit that you’re running on empty. Maybe it’s residual little-sister-ism, refusal to agree simply because someone else suggested it first, but admitting that you’re spent feels like defeat when he still looks completely conscious.

“This is a rerun.” Jeno clicks something on the remote. “Of a show from 2012. You could just look up what happened to Cassandra.”

“Not the same. I need to see her win live, so she can rub it into Helen’s face. She’s so snooty.”

A beat, and then Jeno hums. “She is snooty, yeah, but the show has another ten minutes left. She’s going to be snooty for another five of those before the finale. Why don’t you brush your teeth in the meantime? Since you’re not tired?”

The lilt of his voice makes you glance at him. It’s familiar. Mark trying to convince you not to eat an entire bag of candy at once, Mark trying to bribe you with a popsicle to get you to do your homework, Mark trying to trick you into accidentally getting ready for bed by challenging you to a race.

Distantly you wonder if this tone, too, is another thing Jeno has subconsciously picked up over the years from watching how your brother interacts with you.

“You don’t need to baby me, you know.”

“Of course I know. Only babies make up reasons to stay up when they’re clearly exhausted. You’re not a baby. Right?”

You can’t even glare. It would give away that he’s completely onto you. And yet, he smiles like he’s already got you in the bag.

“Exactly,” you mutter, “No babies here.”

“So you understand that Cassandra will still be around when you’re done washing up?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Come on.”

And he’s up off the couch before he can even catch your rolled eye. Annoying.

Even more annoying is the fact that he’s right. He didn’t say as much when he’d suggested you brush your teeth sooner rather than later, but you knew it was because he thought you didn’t have much longer in you, that you were going to be too far gone in fifteen minutes to have any energy left to get to your feet and wash up— once you get through opening the new toothbrush he gives you, speeding through scrubbing each of your molars with his absurdly fancy toothpaste (because of course he has Premium Ultra Mega Super White Charcoal Anti-Cavity in Spearmint and Sunshine sitting on his counter instead of a regular man’s Colgate, considering all of the perfect teeth sitting in his mouth)— and as soon as you flop back down onto the couch just in time to watch snooty Helen get her comeuppance, a physical weariness settles into your bones and all but cements you to the couch.

It’s so serious that you don’t even realize your eyes have closed until they fly open again at a shifting of the cushion beside you; Jeno, dropping a giant gray duvet on the couch after returning from the bathroom himself. A duvet. A blanket. Sweet, sweet, sleepy salvation.

“Thanks. This looks perfect.”

“Only one of those is for you.”

“One? There’s more than one here?”

“Yeah.”

You blink up at him. “Why?”

“Because I’m sleeping out here too?”

Holy crap. What? This almost makes you sit all the way up. “What sense does that make, in your own house? Why the hell would you sleep out here when you have a perfectly good bed twenty feet away?”

“Because it’s—” Only now does he seem to realize how odd this looks, “It’s sleepover etiquette.”

“Sleepover etiquette?”

“I don’t know,” he says quickly. “I didn’t make the rules, I’m just used to it happening like this. The only time I sleep in my own bed when someone is over is when Jaemin is here, because he’ll sleep in it even if I don’t, but anyone else, we just divvy it up on the couch. Sleepover etiquette. No one gets the bed, or everyone gets the bed.”

As crazy as it sounds right now, it rings true. At your own sleepovers, anything under five friends and you’d all be piling into the bed of whoever hosted the event: squishing together like giggly sardines, waking up and not knowing where one of you ended and the other one began. But Jeno equating this— your definite last-minute intrusion in his house— to a sleepover? Like this is some every weekend thing?

“As noble of a sacrifice as that is, I can’t ask you to sleep out here. You realize that I’m an interloper, right? That you’re doing me a favor by letting me crash here? Hardly the circumstances of a normal sleepover.”

A long second passes as he appears to genuinely think about this, and for a moment you think he’s going to take your advice and try to get a good night's rest after everything else you’ve demanded of him today, but—

“It’s normal to me. You’re sleeping here tonight. That makes it a sleepover. Which one of these do you want?”

Non-negotiable, he's saying. We’re both sleeping out here, take it or take it, punctuated by him flopping down onto the couch beside the pile of blankets. You want to sigh but you should’ve known. It’s chivalry until the end with Lee Jeno.

So you ignore your brain screaming about how weird this is, you and him out here bunking like buddies, and just take the blanket he hands you. You settle in underneath it, cozier than you’re willing to admit, and refocus your attention on the next thing that’s started on TV after the game show; something just as foreign and bizarre but entertaining enough to keep your attention until the near silence weighs down your eyelids instead.

Mark’s apartment is never this serene. Whether it’s the jet-like humming of the fridge out in the kitchen, or the noisy college students below you and their random but guaranteed twice-a-week smash tournaments, or the rattle of the air conditioner above your bed that you’ve been meaning to look at for nearly a month now.

The quiet is… nice. Weird, but nice. You can hear your own breathing. You can hear Jeno’s breathing too; shallow, slow, and even.

It’s how you know he’s still awake twenty minutes later.

He commented on your snoring but little does he know, he snores too— just not as violently. For the premier of Spider-Man Homecoming coming out on DVD, Mark had a celebratory sleepover in the basement of your parents house that you were cordially invited to (along with two of your own friends,) back in your sophomore year. You all huddled up amongst the couches and recliners with millions of blankets and billions of pillows, everyone just falling asleep wherever they laid; and though you could’ve sworn he’d been halfway across the room when you closed your eyes that night, you’d woken up the next morning with Jeno’s forehead pressed into your shoulder and nearly screamed.

You didn’t, though. You sucked it back down just in time.

Instead, you sat there and ogled him in the still-blue sunlight, reveling in how it was even possible for a human with such sharp bone structure to look so squishy when he slept.

It was also how you noticed that, when he’s asleep, his nose makes this tiny but unmistakable whistling sound— like a tiny person is up there blowing through a kazoo whenever he exhales.

There’s no whistle sound now.

“When did you stop liking me?” you ask.

And to his credit, even though you’re listening very hard for any sort of change, Jeno’s breathing doesn’t miss a measure. There’s just a second of silence before a quiet shift of fabric, maybe like he’s rolling over to face you, but you’re not sure because you’re staring at the ceiling like you might explode if your eyes meet. Which you might.

“I don’t know,” he says, just as plainly as you’d asked. “I don’t remember there being a day where I decided I should.”

“Okay.”

“What about you?” he’s surprisingly quick to add. “When did you stop liking me?”

“...Would it be a cop out if I just said the same?”

“Without a doubt.”

You manage to crack a smile, but a yawn cuts it off. “Sometime after your graduation, I think. I don’t have a concrete day for it or anything. I only remember realizing that while you were gone, I was thinking about you less and less. After a while the idea of you stopped…” Hurting, as much. “Hovering.”

“Right,” he says. “Yeah. That makes sense." He clears his throat. "That you’d forget me a little, I mean. Once you started going out more.”

Another yawn on your end. This time your eyes aren’t as eager to reopen, and the exhale saps the very last ounce of energy you’ve got. What time is it? One? One-thirty?

Majorly past your bedtime.

“I didn’ forget you,” you reply belatedly, but it comes out more like a murmur, a little lost in the noise of you shifting around to get more comfortable. “There’s no forgetting someone like you.”

If he said something in response it was either too quiet to be heard through your cocoon of blankets or simply came after you fell too deep into the first REM cycle. Distantly you thought you heard something, a breath of an answer, but by the time you placed it as a possibly whispered, “You either,” you were already much, much too far gone.

Pancakes.

You wake up to the smell of pancakes.

Jeno’s apartment looks so different in the sunlight that for a second, even though the memories of last night trickle back faster than expected once you open your eyes, you almost don’t recognize the place when you sit up.

Snapshots pop into your brain like fireworks as the seconds tick on; the showcase, the party, punching Jeon Soyeon in the face. Your brother’s best friend driving you to his house as you cried in the aftermath, confessing his feelings two years past the expiry date, the both of you falling asleep out here like you’re a couple of old pals who do this sort of song and dance all the time.

In the span of 24 hours, you’ve faced more highs and lows than you have all year.

And before you can even wipe the crusties from your eyes, the worry sets in.

Soyeon wasn’t popular for no reason— would her minions be coming after you, now? Had they already started? Bombarding your social media, spreading rumors, flocking protectively around their Queen Bee after you dared to lose your temper on her last night? What fresh hell would you be walking into when you finally checked your phone?

And what about Somi? You’d probably left her with quite the mess after causing such a scene; did the party continue alright? Did you ruin the cheerful atmosphere? You didn’t even get to say goodnight.

And… And Mark, too.

But you weren’t even sure where to start when it came to him.

God. Maybe for the sake of your currently-not-awful mood, you should just not start. About him, or last night, or any of the things that are surely going to be a pain in the ass to deal with in the following days. Those headaches will still be there in a few hours— sorting out the most immediate issue of the person who’s house you’re hiding in, will not.

It’s a sunny, cloudless morning in Seoul.

You turn to the smell of the pancakes and find Jeno standing in his kitchen with one earbud in, back to you. He’s bobbing his head and murmuring under his breath as he flips the batter in the pan, head to toe in what looks to be work-out gear; black leggings under charcoal basketball shorts, one of those skin tight athletic tanks stretched taut across what you can see of his shoulder blades from your dent in his couch.

You’re in the middle of being annoyed at how broad he is when, despite being careful to not to ruffle the blankets or anything, Jeno glances behind him. You’re caught off guard by it— because what the hell? Does he have a secret eyeball hiding amongst those locks of inky black hair?— but then you belatedly understand that it’s the lack of noise that’s tipped him off. With how violently you snore, a sudden silence is basically your jingling cat-bell of attention. Annoying.

“I was just about to wake you up,” he says. “Do you mind flipping the last few of these so I can take a shower really quick? Breakfast is just about done.”

“You went to the gym?”

It’s less a question, more of an observation, but Jeno hums in agreement. “The one in the building, I didn’t leave you for too long. I would’ve waited until tonight if I didn’t already know that you never wake up before 11.”

There’s a momentary blip of something odd in your brain at the concept of him just knowing something like that about you, but it’s gone— by force— as fast as it appears.

“Okay. Just have to flip?”

“Just have to flip.”

And so you just flip. Jeno passes you with a smile as he leaves the kitchen, looking the perfect picture of casual, as if this is an everyday experience. It’s so casual that it makes you wonder how this might look to an outsider, someone with no context for what last night was like— and then it makes you acutely aware of how loudly the 15 year-old version of you would be hollering right now if she could see five years into the future and witness this scene herself. You, in Jeno’s clothes, flipping pancakes in his kitchen on a beautiful Saturday morning, as he showers in the bathroom you’d shared last night, washing the toil and sweat of physical exertion off of his body.

Yeah. Without context? 15 year-old you probably would’ve screamed until her head exploded.

Jeno thankfully isn’t gone for long, and by the time you hear the faucet turn off, you’ve finished with the very last pancake. You pile it on top of the half a dozen others, a beautiful stack of fluffy dough and sugar. (And, okay, sure, you’d gotten a liberal with the chocolate chips on the last few after realizing you’d misjudged the cooking time on some of the earlier ones and left them chocochipless, overcompensating by pouring all of the remaining dollops into the last two or three for the sake of not wasting them— but whatever. Even with the gooey, more-chocolate-than-bread pancakes sitting on top, your work could surely still make the cover of a Martha Stuart cookbook.)

You don’t see him come out because you’re moving the plate of food to his dining table, but you know he’s close because he laughs when he spots the brown pancakes. You know he’s laughing at the brown pancakes, because:

“You’re really pushing the limit of what can be considered breakfast with that last one there, don’t you think?”

“You’re not going to care what meal of the day this is once you actually taste it.”

“Why? Because it’s hard to tell the time when you’re in a sugar-induced coma?”

You sniff. “If you’re so worried about your health you could always let me have it. I made a few that don’t have any chips. You can have those sad ones then.”

A moment passes and you turn to look at him. Bad choice. Hip bones and pale skin everywhere— it’s like a flash-bang of narrow waist, courtesy of Jeno raising his arms (and therefore the hem of his t-shirt) to dry the last drops of water from his hair with the towel he’s brought out with him. You rip your eyes back to setting the table before he notices, feeling like your eyeballs have just been physically zapped.

“I never said I was worried about my health,” he replies, wandering a little further into the kitchen. “Split it with me?”

There’s no need for that. There’s like, three of them. We can each have one. But for some reason you instead say, “Only if I get the half that has more chips.”

“I thought that was already obvious,” he smiles in return.

Fifteen minutes later, with two-thirds of your stack messily decimated and his entire plate basically as clean as it was when it came out of the cupboard, Jeno must decide that your morning of peace has gone on for long enough.

“Mark called me last night,” he announces.

(Technically he says it very normally, at a perfectly acceptable volume for general conversation, but because you’d both lapsed into silence after a few sentences of small talk at the table— a compliment from him about your showcase, about how cool you’d looked up there, how impressive your choreography was; a mumbled thanks from you, that there was another one happening after winter break— it comes out like an announcement anyway. An announcement you’re none too happy to hear.)

You’re hoping he doesn’t notice how your face goes a little stiff. “Did he?”

“Mm. He said he got worried because you weren’t answering your phone.”

You probably would’ve been dodging his calls regardless but the truth is that your phone is still somewhere in Gawon’s car and has probably been since before the party even started. You’d realized that last night, after changing your clothes in his bathroom and not finding it in any of your jacket’s nooks and crannies; seeing in your mind the exact door pocket you’d left it in, then thinking you’d definitely remember to grab it before you got out. You didn’t.

You could only imagine the carnage of notifications you’ve amassed since last night.

“And?”

“And, once I told him you were alright here, he said he’d leave a voice message that he wanted me to pass on to you. I told him I’d let you hear it in the morning once you had the energy, after you slept off whatever was in your system.”

Hesitantly, you meet his eyes.

“Are you ready for that?” he asks carefully. “I haven’t listened to it, if you want to be alone when it plays.”

“What’s the point in that? It’s not like he isn’t going to relay my scolding to you later anyway. Press it.”

“He’s not going to scold you—”

You flick your gaze at him, silently asking if he really wants to get into this again, and apparently he thinks better of whatever gushingly optimistic sentence he’d been about to follow up that observation with. “Please just press it.”

He presses it.

“Hey— Hey, tiger.”

And then Mark is here. Vocally. In the flesh. Through the uncomfortably clear speakers in his best friend’s phone.

“I hope you’re doing better than you were when I last saw you.”

The cadence of his voice twists up your lungs for a reason you can’t immediately place, and then you realize it’s because he’s speaking in English, which he only resorts to when he has too many things to say and not enough ways to say them. This makes your insides sink even further.

“Listen, before I get sidetracked, I want you to know that I know what I did was… stupid. The last thing I should’ve done was help her up after what she said, but I— I was so angry that I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t know about any of… that stuff, you and her hanging out or whatever, until she said it, and that probably would’ve ticked me off anyway because of some other things I had going on with her, but then she mentioned whatever happened there— that she apparently left you at some night club, alone, with some fucking guy—?”

A sigh and a ruffle this time, like he’s passing his hand over his face in agitation. It takes so much for him to curse in front of you and yet he’d just dropped the most serious one of them all like it was nothing. But while this would usually send your blood running cold, it doesn’t. Because it… it kind of doesn’t sound like he’s actually mad at you. What?

“I asked her if it was true because I was so... Honestly I didn’t realize how it looked until after you left, you know? Like I was siding with her or something? I asked her if it was true because I couldn’t believe that she’d do something like that to you. Not because I would’ve ever trusted her word over yours or something, she’s already proven… God, okay, this message is already at like, two minutes…”

Another sigh. This one is much more miserable than the previous.

For some stupid, distant reason, as the shock wears on from the realization that he isn’t mad at you, you find yourself wondering if Jeno is having a hard time following along. The only class he’d ever come close to failing in high school was English.

“Can you just call me? Please? Or better yet, can you just let Jeno drive you home? I’ll explain everything so much better once you’re in front of me. M’ sorry, again that I… You’ve got a great right hook by the way. You shouldn’t have punched her, violence is never ever the answer. But she was leaking like a faucet for long after you left, Tiger— might’ve snapped something in there. Really laid her out.” A short, weak laugh, and then,“Yeah. Please call. Or come home? Please.”

The message ends with a cheerful beep.

And you sit there in silence for a good, long moment.

Because that wasn’t anything like the drawing-and-quartering you were expecting.

If anything, Mark actually sounded angry on your behalf. He’d helped Soyeon up, probably without thinking, because he was asking her if she’d really done something that awful to you. Not because he actually…

“You’re gonna let me do what he wants right?”

Jeno’s expression had, at some point during your staring off into space, contorted the closest you think you’ve ever seen it get to an outright, I told you so. And you guess he did. You didn’t get scolded.

“I— I was going to stop at my friend's house to get my phone,” you say, still a little shocked. “Left it in her car last night before I got to the party.”

“Where does she live?”

“Gamyeon.”

Jeno only shrugs. “We'll pitstop then.”

“You— You’re going to drive me all the way to Gamyeon?”

“Isn’t it only twenty minutes out of the way?” He blinks. “How were you going to get it before I was going to take you home?”

“I… I was pretty gungho about sneaking out of here at the crack of dawn via Uber, last night?” It comes out like a guilty question. “I had a bit of a plan of action. But that was before I woke up to the smell of pancakes, of course…”

“The pancakes you didn’t know I was making until half an hour ago? At 11AM?” he asks innocently. “If what you really mean is that getting up at the crack of dawn turned out to be a little ambitious for you, you can just—”

Jeno laughs as your hand shoots out to swat him. He smartly decides to change the subject, and this new topic ends up being about the dishes; specifically about him loading them into the dishwasher while you go and gather your belongings into the little drawstring book bag he’d left by the bathroom for you. When you ask him why you don’t just change back into what you had on last night so he doesn’t have to go without his hoodie and sweatpants for however long it takes you to do laundry, he shrugs it off. “You look more comfortable in this than the dress. And I’m at your place more often than I’m in my own, it’s not like I’ll miss it for too long. Keep it for now.”

(And you can’t argue with that. Especially not when he’s right. These sweatpants are way nicer than the tightly ribbed-nylon of Gawon’s mini dress.)

While brushing your teeth, you wonder what to do with the toothbrush.

Leaving it feels… odd. In a stupid way it almost feels like you’d be leaving it to return to. Like there’s any chance that after today you’ll ever be spending another unannounced night in this apartment, which there isn’t if you’ll have anything to do about it. But taking the toothbrush with you, or throwing it away, feels weird too.

In the end you decide to just toss it in your bag and take it back to Mark’s. Jeno won’t say anything about it, you know he won't, but if he miraculously does seem to care, you can just say that you’ve been meaning to get a new toothbrush and that it’s not like he has any use for this one anymore anyway. Maybe you’ll even offer to give him five bucks to make up for the thievery. (God, why are you thinking so hard about this? Like he's going to waste his time chasing you down for a fucking toothbrush?)

And after all that brainpower he doesn’t even say anything. Once he comes out after using the bathroom himself, if he’s even noticed it missing he doesn’t let it show. He just asks if you’re ready to go, and when you nod, that’s the end of it. He leads you out, follows you down the corridor, and then pushes the button for the elevator to come and pick you both up. Easy as pie.

It’s only when you’re in the descending cabin that it hits you, that this is the last time you’ll be here.

You try not to think too hard about why your lips inherently want to frown at that idea.

Twenty minutes to Gamyeon feels more like five, with how much catastrophizing you’re doing in the passenger's seat. Soyeon and her crew will have surely started the city-wide search for you by now, right? Should you be telling Jeno to take back roads? To roll his windows up on this beautiful late August afternoon, so no one from SNU recognizes either of you from the party and tries to run you both off the road? God.

“Can I borrow your phone?” you blurt.

And even though you’d literally asked him for it, you’re a little astounded when he just hands the thing over without question. You shouldn’t be though. He’d done the same thing with the music change request three weeks ago.

(Still no password, either, when you swipe at the screen. What is this guy's problem?)

“Do you need to call someone?”

“No,” you murmur, already scanning through the pages to find Twitter, “I want to see if Soyeon put a hit out for me yet.”

“What? Why would she do that?”

You blink over, a little dubious that even someone as sweet as him can’t fathom why Soyeon could have it out for you after what you did, but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

“Uh, I don’t know, Jeno. There’s a possibility that she might be a little upset since I punched her in the face a few hours ago.”

“You didn’t even hit her that hard.”

You balk at him. “Did you not hear the part where Mark said I might’ve broken her nose?”

“I did.”

“And it’s confusing to you that she might be really, really mad at me for that?”

“No,” Jeno mutters. “It’s confusing to me that you think she wouldn’t have come to her senses by now, considering how close she came to getting her ass kicked last night. As far as she knows the only reason you didn’t get to finish her off was because I got in your way. If Soyeon isn’t stupid, she’ll understand that it’s in her best interest to stay off your radar from now on.”

He sounds so unsympathetic that your jaw nearly drops. And he’s not even done. Like your worry has uncorked his own agitation, now.

“I wouldn't have pulled you off of her if I’d known that she was the one who sent that freak out after you behind the bar, by the way. I didn’t hear anything either of you said before you hit her. if I knew why, I would’ve let you get a few more swings in, at least. Sorry.”

“Sorry! You’re apologizing for not letting me beat someone else up?”

“Yes,” he says unflinchingly. “This once. Don’t go around getting in fights for the hell of it though, I won’t be there to haul you to the cool-down corner every time.”

He’s joking now, lightness returning to his smile as he turns into Gawon’s neighborhood, but you’re still a little stuck on how serious he’d gotten just now. Never in your life would you have expected Jeno to be in your corner when it came to your less than stellar impulse control; and not only condone it, but applaud it, just because Soyeon had done something that could’ve gotten you hurt.

...Jeez. Something like appreciation (but more ravenous and embarrassing) worms its way into your heart. You allowed it to simmer there for a one warm, full second before stamping it out with the heel of self-preservation.

You don’t even get to check Twitter. Gawon’s apartment building is more squat than most, only four cozy stories all encapsulated within an open-air stairwell, which means you can keep an eye on Jeno’s car all the way up to your friend’s front door. Coming unannounced, you’ve already prepared yourself for the possibility of her not being home (and therefore having to deal with her scary roommate instead) but thank God, it’s her round sleepy face that opens the door after your quick three knocks against the wood.

She doesn’t remain sleepy looking for long though.

"Holy shit!” And without greeting, Gawon yanks you into her house. “You— Well, first things first, you’re here for your phone, right? Let me go and get it, I brought it inside, but bitch, you have some explaining to do!”

Considering how loud she’s being, the scary roommate must not be home this weekend. You wince. You’ll be getting the full degree, then.

“People are texting me that I haven’t talked to in months just because they know I’m friends with you! Does that make sense?”

“It’s that bad?” you ask warily, as she disappears into her bedroom.

“Bad? Is what bad?”

“Soyeon’s warpath.”

“Soyeon?” Gawon returns to her living room with your phone in hand, eyes wider than you’re expecting. “Uh. No. After last night—” She frowns. “You haven’t talked to your brother yet?”

“No? I haven’t been home since before the showcase. And your car ate my phone so I haven’t really talked to anyone else since last night either.”

But her eyes get even bigger, if that’s possible.

“So you have no idea what happened after Lee Jeno plucked you out of there, then?”

“No.” Your grimace is nearly audible as you sit down, sensing trouble. “You guys didn’t just laugh, turn the music up, and party even harder? You know, like I was hoping you’d all do after that mess I caused?”

“Oh, yeah, we did that,” Gawon says with an unconvincingly casual shrug, before finding your eye and trying (and failing) to hide her widening grin. “After your brother tore Soyeon apart in front of everyone for fucking you over!”

“He— What?”

“Dude, it was crazy, Mark— I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him raise his voice even once but the second the door shut after Jeno took you away, whatever it was she said that made you punch her finally seemed to compute in his head, you know? And he just went, ‘You left her alone with someone she told you was creeping her out?’ like, so loudly that you’d swear it was just the two of them in that whole house!”

For the second time in ten minutes, your jaw has hit the floor.

“And I thought Soyeon would start yelling back at him or something, but she’s just standing there staring at him like she’s stunned, probably that it’s him of all people laying into her, saying that he almost can't believe how selfish and pitiful she is, but oh yeah, yes he can, because only someone that doesn’t have respect for themselves would do she did to him last year; that he would’ve helped her if she just asked. And you should’ve seen her face when he said that. It looked like she’d seen a ghost.And he didn’t even air out whatever it was that she did, which I’m salty about, because… What did she do, you know? I’m so curious! But whatever, that’s not even the best part.”

Not the best part? How? This is pretty fucking insane to you already.

“Mark backed up after dropping that bomb like he was about to leave, to go after you maybe, but then he turned and got right back in Soyeon’s face, and said, ‘I don’t want to see you in front of her again, Soyeon. Take this advice as my parting gift, yeah? Because she’s not going to let you get away with only a graze next time, and you better believe that I’m not going to get in her way either.’” Gawon squeals. “All badass like that, I almost fucking screamed! He and all his friends left after that but I swear everyone was talking about it for the rest of the party. Your brother probably has quite a few new admirers…”

You’re staring at her in an awed silence. Mark stood up for you, too. After hearing everything Soyeon said, he still stood up for you. It really wasn’t like how you thought it went at all.

A few hours ago you’d thought your brother was done with you for real, and that Soyeon would be coming for you with pitchforks for embarrassing her in front of all those people at Somi’s party. And now you’re learning that, without your input at all, those two problems have sort of canceled each other out. Your brother threatened Soyeon into leaving you alone on your behalf.

(And if you weren’t so weirdly flattered, you might’ve been incredibly offended. What is it with him and Jeno and talking like you’re some sort of rabid dog that goes around fucking people up for fun? You’re not that violent!)

“That’s… kind of awesome,” you admit, trying not to smile as you stand up from her couch. “And very, very reassuring. Thanks for the rundown. Maybe I’ll actually be able to show my face on campus on Monday without worrying that I’m about to be struck by a G-Wagon.”

Gawon laughs as she follows you back to the entryway. The two of you chat about a few smaller things before you tell her you have to go, mostly about the plans for dance class on Monday now that the showcase is over and how worried Somi was about you after you left in such a tizzy last night, when she stops you right after cracking open her front door.

“But you know,” she begins, “None of that was what I was referring to when I said you had some explaining to do, missy.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No! Well, people were talking about it, sure, but not nearly as much as the other thing you did in front of everyone last night.”

“Which was?”

“Elope.”

You blink at her.

“I’m talking about the denim-wearing superhero that swooped in to save you from yourself. Hello? Lee Jeno?”

Oh. Your expression flips from confusion to alarm in the blink of an eye.

“People were talking about that? What is there to talk about? He’s my brother's friend!”

“Duh. That’s why people were talking about it. You know how much they love to make up stories about who-was-seen-doing-what-with-who. And honestly even as your friend I have to say that it was pretty fucking crazy last night watching this guy practically teleport across the room to get to you. And yes, you argue that he’s your brother's friend, blah blah, it’s obvious that he’d help, blah, but you fail to notice that Lee Jeno was standing around in a group of all your brother's other friends too. Why didn’t any of the others do something, then? Why specifically Lee Jeno— especially when that guy is the most quiet and subdued of the lot of them? Everyone was tittering about that.”

Her face slips into something a little more suspicious when you only swallow unsurely. Unsure, because you actually don’t know either. You, obviously, had been a little preoccupied before Jeno appeared behind you; you had no clue what he or the others had been doing in the moments before he hauled you outside. Learning that he’d been the only one out of all of them to jump into action makes you feel off-center.

“But as the awesome friend that I am, I told all the people who came up to me looking for details to get lost, because I’d obviously be one of the first to know if you had something going on with Basketball Hottie, and I don’t. And I was telling the truth, right? I would know if something was going on there. Right?”

“Of course!” you reassure quickly. “Which is why you don’t know. Because nothing is going on there. Nothing will be going on. Ever.”

She squints.

“I’m serious! Jeno’s just a really good guy. Super chivalrous, down to the bones. He takes his duty as Mark’s best friend very personally, so he gets involved in stuff with me that the others might not figure out as fast. It’s nothing crazy.”

Another beat passes before she unfurls her arms. “…Okay. I mean, I assumed as much. It makes sense. Especially since Somi said you’ve all known each other for something like, a hundred years— no wonder that he’d basically see you as a sister too after so long, I guess.”

You’re not at all expecting that statement to sting, but it does, in a surprisingly raw way.

At least Gawon doesn’t notice your smile falter, because she’s too busy asking her final question as you step out past her front door. “How’d you get here this early, anyway? Cab?”

“Ah, no. Jeno—”

It comes out without thought, a millisecond before you realize the mistake you’re about to make. Both you and Gawon freeze, staring at each other in the silence that follows, before she goes, “Jeno brought you here? But you said you didn’t go home last night.”

Then, as your head swung back and forth in refusal but no explanation came out with it, she tilted her own head in disbelief. “Where… Where did you sleep, then?”

And the final killing blow comes as her eyes drift down almost absentmindedly to the chest of your gray sweatshirt. Jeno’s sweatshirt. Seoul National University Basketball, it says, splashed boldly across the front. Direct. Recognizable. Unmistakable.

You turn around and start to run right as Gawon gasps in pure, wanton betrayal. There’s no explaining this. Not now. Not today. Even if you had an hour to spare right now to sit down and relay every second that passed last night in a way that made her understand this absolutely isn’t what it looks like— which is that you’re totally lying about nothing going on between you and Lee Jeno— Gawon only believes what her eyes physically see in front of her, and even you aren’t naive enough to think that this won’t be the most glaringly suspicious thing she has ever seen.

You’re halfway down the stairs when her voice catches up with you.

“It’s nothing crazy, huh? It’s nothing crazy, you liar! Just wait until I catch you on Monday, girl! We’ll see exactly what’s not crazy between you and Mr.Chivalrous!”

Approximately two minutes after closing the front door behind yourself after walking into your brother’s apartment, you’re crying again. Mark is too. He’s the one that started it. It’s just a lot of tears all around.

Everything kind of comes out at once. It begins as spewed apologies on both ends for last night specifically— him for ever letting things get bad enough that you’d genuinely think he’d ever choose someone else over you, and you for being such a brat for the last few weeks (the last few months) when you’d always known deep down that he only ever did the things that annoyed you out of desire to keep you safe— and then it unfurls into apologies for everything, eon-old grudges that were held for no other reason than something to lord over the others head, grievances that turned out to just be the miscommunications, the type of things that immediately stop mattering in the long run when people remember that they can lose each other easier than they think.

After about a half an hour of this (what Mark used to call ‘coming home’ when you were younger, the inevitable rekindling after a period of heightened fighting between you both) you both come away with a few things to think about.

For him? It’s official. You’re not a kid anymore, and he shouldn’t still be treating you like one. No more attempting to put curfews on you, or telling you where you can and can’t go, or telling his friends to censor themselves when they’re over because of your precious and innocent ears, amongst his other million older-brother-isms. You’re both adults now. He can suggest things. He can speak to you like he would his friends about the things you do that worry him. No more lectures. (Unless you do something really, unarguably stupid, he caveats.)

For you? A serious, genuine attempt towards better decision making.

You’ve been bestowed a new motto to ponder every time an opportunity arises for mischief in your life. What Would Mark Lee Do? A question meant to make you really think about whether the thing you’re thinking about doing is going to make your brother crazy. And if it is? Then you have to tell him about it in advance, so he can at least bail you out if it goes belly up.

And that’s honestly perfectly fine with you.

The last rule he slips in revolves around your tendency to disappear without warning. Absolutely no more sneaking around, he says. If you exit this apartment when he’s not home, he gets to know about when and where. Not because I don't trust you, he’d been quick to add, but because the world itself can be a scary place sometimes. Which you don’t exactly… disagree with. Especially after this most recent incident at Nabi Bar.

You’d pushed back a little bit on this one though, preemptively annoyed by the thought of having to text him every single time you leave— your friends liked spontaneity, early morning brunches or midnight-sets at EDM pop-ups— and you were a chronic charger-forgetter, often running out of this place with only thirty-percent or less to your name. You didn’t like the idea of his trust teetering on nothing but your (admittedly sub-par) ability to remember to do certain things before you left the house.

Mark only pulled his own phone out in response.

You watched him tap a few things, swipe, and then turn the screen around to show you the order he’d just placed for two succinct little items: a brand new Apple AirTag and a cute, neon-green pom-pom keychain to stick it into.

“To match the color of your phone case,” he said cheerily. “Put it on your keys, and you’ll never have to worry about forgetting! Perfect, right?”

Yep, you smiled sarcastically. Perfect. Like one might an excitable dog, or a toddler with a tendency to run, you’ve been given your very own tracker.

(He knows you’re kidding. It’s built into the Little Sister Gene to complain, but in the grand scheme of things, you’re actually rather pleased by the compromise. Less secrets means less stress, and it’s not like he’s doing it so he can watch you like a hawk or anything— it’s for those times he can’t reach you and just wants to know where you are. You’ll wear that pretty little piece of technology on your wrist like the hottest new Cartier bangle if it means going where you want, when you want, without worrying about worrying your brother.)

It’s half past one when the conversation loosens up to other things, like you demanding the play-by-play of what he’d said to Soyeon and him flushing up to his ears as obliged, embarrassed in hindsight by how angry he’d gotten (but not regretting it, he’d sheepishly admitted), and then to the concept of lunch, Mark offering to fry something up while you get a head-start on the mountain of homework you’ve been neglecting for studio time ahead of the showcase.

It’s a quiet afternoon, which you’re thankful for. Whether it’s because Mark simply hadn’t planned for the others to come over or because he expressly told them not to, it ends up just being you two, a family-sized bag of Doritos, and a few episodes of Running Man.

(You hadn’t realized just how much you missed it until then. How much you missed him. How long it’s been since you’ve done something like this without waiting for the other shoe to drop— for him to get mad at you for something you did or didn’t do, for you to get mad at him for getting mad at you. And it’s kind of embarrassing tearing up while people fall and slip and slide through an obstacle course covered in dish soap, so you tell Mark that it’s because you got a fleck of cool ranch dust in your eye when he turns to look at you after your sniffle comes out a bit wet.

It’s obvious that he doesn’t believe you, and a week ago you can’t help but think that this would’ve led to an interrogation. Is something wrong? What happened? Did something happen? Are you in trouble again? What did you do?

But today he lets it go. He stares at you for a second, hands you a napkin, pinches your cheek, and then lets it go.

And that almost makes you cry again for real.)

The evening sun creeps down in the sky like a thief, a cloudless day melting into a brilliant dusk; all of the windows in Mark’s apartment are drawn and the living room is lit up like the inside of a tangerine lamp. You’re lazing around on the couch while your brother showers, deeply entrenched in a Cup Pong battle Somi (which had only come about after she facetimed you, demanding that you spill all detail about what the hell happened while she was down in the car park last night, to which you’d somewhat begrudgingly relayed the story yet again: Mark, Soyeon, The Punch, Jeno, Jeno’s apartment, etc., and she’d cursed at you for being apologetic for causing a scene in her house because ‘that bitch totally deserved it,’ she insisted) when an unexpected name pops down from the top of your screen.

An unexpected name boasting an even more unexpected message.

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] Found your earring in my bathroom

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] Guess it fell out sometime last night

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] You want me to come drop it off tonight?

[You, 7:12PM] ???

[You, 7:12PM] what sense does that make

[You, 7:12PM] you would come over here just to drop off a singular earring??

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] Juyeon is throwing a house warming party three blocks from you guys, I'm already in the area

[You, 7:12PM] oh. well. it’s not like you don’t come over every other day anyway

[You, 7:12PM] just bring it with you next time

[You, 7:12PM]…thank you for finding it though

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] No problem

That’s more definitive of a metaphorical hanging-up of the phone than anything, isn’t it? You thought so for about thirty solid seconds, scrolling back over to your thread with Somi and distractedly taking another shot at Cup Pong, before you were proven wrong.

[Lee Jeno,7:13PM] Okay I was also asking because I wanted to see if you were alright

[Lee Jeno,7:13PM] You and Mark, I mean

[Lee Jeno,7:13PM] After I dropped you off this morning I already felt a little bit like I’d thrown you into a pressure cooker with nothing but a thumbs up

[Lee Jeno,7:13PM] Then he texted the group chat an hour later to tell all of us to get lost, that his place was off limits for the rest of the day even though he’d already had a movie night planned. I figured that meant your chat with him either went really, really poorly, or that you two were just catching up and didn’t want to be interrupted

[Lee Jeno, 7:13PM] I thought if I saw you with my own eyes I’d know the difference, but with just the text alone, I’m having a hard time…

Oh. Wow. He’s never texted you this many words or this many times before. And just to check in, too?

[You, 7:14PM] no need to worry !! we made up in a pretty big way actually

[You, 7:14PM] after you left we had the big sit-down and figured a lot of things out

[You, 7:14PM] he probably told you not to come over because he has like eight million Tiktoks he’s been wanting to show me that he couldn’t because we were fighting, and now that we’re okay again he plans on holding me hostage until I laugh at every single one

[You, 7:14PM] these last few hours have been a bit of a nightmare in that sense but otherwise it’s

[You, 7:14PM] good?

[You, 7:14PM] we’re good

[You, 7:14PM] thanks to you

[Lee Jeno, 7:14PM] I’m just happy to be the chauffeur. Nothing to thank me for

Well… Not quite. Usually you can let the bone-deep chivalry slide, it’s his ‘thing’ after all, but this time the consequences of what could’ve happened are too big to ignore.

[You, 7:14PM] there really is, though

[You, 7:15PM] i don't think Mark and I would’ve gotten out of this as intact as we are without you this weekend

[You, 7:15PM] i really, really do need to thank you

[You, 7:15PM] for this morning

[You, 7:15PM] and for last night

More memories flutter by, different iterations of Lee Jeno unarguably saving your ass from some sort of peril, and you grimace further.

[You, 7:15PM] and two weeks ago, for Nabi Bar.

[You, 7:15PM] and last week, for Wooyoung’s party

[You, 7:15PM] thanks for… everything, really.

[You, 7:15PM] i’m happy you’re Mark’s friend

His bubble comes up for a long, long time after your last message. You watch it disappear and reappear at least twice before his next message comes in… and even then it’s woefully short for how long he’d taken to type it.

[Lee Jeno, 7:16PM] What do you mean?

[You, 7:16PM] i mean that I’m happy Mark… has you

[You, 7:16PM] there aren’t many people that would be nearly as cool as you’ve been about babysitting their best friends sibling so many times, is what I’m saying

[Lee Jeno, 7:16PM] But I wasn’t babysitting you.

Oh. Is that what this air of confusion is about? Semantics? Jeno, the thoughtful guy that he is, not wanting you to see what happened this weekend as babysitting because he doesn’t want to hurt your big-girl feelings?

[You, 7:17PM] ah

[You, 7:17PM] okay

[You, 7:17PM] we won’t call it that, then!!

[You, 7:17PM] Mark is still lucky to have you though

[Lee Jeno, 7:17PM] I didn’t do anything that I did last night because I was thinking about your brother

Again, you can only blink. A reply from Somi pops down for half a second before you swipe it away to reread Jeno’s last text, sitting up in confusion.

[You, 7:12PM] then why did you do it?

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] Because it was you

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] Nabi Bar, Wooyoung’s, last night, all of it. Everything. The only thing I was thinking about was you.

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] Mark didn’t have anything to do with it. He stopped having anything to do with it the second you came back to Seoul.

In the minutes you’ve been focused on the screen, the sunset has bled away most of its brilliant orange. Now the sky is more purple than anything, pale lilac peeking through the buildings across the street. Along with the lack of sunlight, the temperature seems to have dropped in the apartment; the air conditioner’s breeze threatening to raise goosebumps along your cheeks and thighs and knees now that the sun isn’t here to combat it.

But you’re not feeling cold. Quite the opposite, actually.

In a matter of seconds you’ve actually begun to emanate enough heat to rival your elderly Toshiba laptop from 2012.

Your brain kind of feels like that Toshiba too. Like you’ve just clicked the left mouse one too many times and now 100 tabs have all opened up at the exact same instant, all playing the same snippet of audio at maximum volume— You. You. Thinking about you. About you. Worried about you. Just about you— all of them desperately trying to frame those words in a way that doesn’t set off the crush of childhood’s past laying dormant in your head.

But even the delusional part of your brain is pulling a blank on this one.

Because while you may be unhinged about Jeno most of the time, you are not unhinged about Jeno all of the time, and there are moments when even you can’t rationalize your way out of what’s staring you right in the face. Sometimes, however rarely, you see things for what they really are. Or what they are not.

And the string of texts that Jeno has just sent to your phone is not, in any conceivable way, a conversation that makes sense, when not even 24 hours ago you and Jeno essentially shook on the fact that everything would be going back to normal after last night. So we’re okay, he asked. We’re okay, you’d said. And you took that to mean things were on track to return to status quo. You’d go back to greeting each other when he came over, the occasional small talk and string of jokes, nodding at each other on campus, that sort of thing. You’d go back to just being the peripheral little sister. He’d go back to just being your brothers friend. The way life was before that night at Nabi Bar.

But in what world does, ‘He stopped having anything to do with it the second you came back to Seoul,’ fit into that equation at all? In fact— doesn’t that break the equation entirely?

Because what… what would you be to him then, without Mark?

Your lungs stutter a little wantonly. You don’t think you’ve ever asked yourself that question. And now that you have, your mind is prodding at doors it’s never acknowledged the existence of before. When you imagine yourself in his eyes, it’s only ever been through the relationship you have with his best friend; and that, in turn, has colored the way that you react to every single thing he does or says.

If he’s saying now that’s not how he sees you and that’s not how he’s been seeing you, then that re-contextualizes… quite a few things, doesn’t it?

The last three weeks of him going out of his way to help you, for one?

Your phone buzzes again in your palm.

[Lee Jeno, 7:14PM] Things are getting kind of crazy over here, Juyeon just brought out a t-shirt gun so I think I have to go

[Lee Jeno, 7:14PM] Mark moved movie night to Tuesday. I’ll bring your earring over then, so make sure you’re home. Maybe you can also explain why your toothbrush is missing from my bathroom.

Sure. Perfect. Any way to avoid replying to the previous batch of texts, you’ll accept in a heartbeat. You fire off some half-baked response, a few ‘ha-ha, yeah, totally’s, to disguise just how hard the gears in your head are spinning, though nothing feels very ha-ha yeah once you fling the phone away. You slump back against the couch cushions, even more mentally exhausted than you’d been a few hours ago with Mark.

The only thing I was thinking about was you.

What an insane thing to say, you miff, belatedly embarrassed. You can almost see his mouth forming the words, his voice as deep and annoyingly honest as always. What the hell are you doing, Lee Jeno?

Shit. Are you just reading way too far into this? Or are things really not nearly as okay between you both as he wants you to think they are?

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

a/n: please let me know what you think, this chapter beat my ass left right and sideways... ontwards ch7 my friends...

a/n ii: this chapter is dedicated to @jnnul btw their mention of misdial on their tumblr wrapped cheered me up enough to force myself to sit down and figure this fucking story out LOL

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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago

Text

Stay Forever?

Mob!Azriel x reader AU

A/n: I changed the pov bc I decided I hate first person oops

Warnings: none

Azriel’s rough hands gently caress your cheeks, making you stir from what was a peaceful sleep. You don’t mind though. Any day waking up next to him is a gift.

With your eyes still closed you stretch and reach out for Azriel. His arms wrap around you pulling you to his chest. You let out a content hum, snuggling closer to him.

“Good morning my love.” Azriel whispered against your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your head. A small smile graces your lips and squeeze him tighter. “Morning Azzy.” You mumble out. “You’re going to hate what I’m going to say.” You let out a groan, burying your face in Azriel’s neck. “What,” you say flatly. “I’m late for training with Rhys and Cass. I gotta get up princess.” You let out another dramatic groan. Azriel lets out a breathy laugh, “You could come with me. The gym is right here in the house.”

You give him an exasperated look. “First of all, this isn’t a house its a mansion. Second, I don’t have anything here. Like clothes wise. If I had a closet here then I’d totally work out but I don’t.” You rambled. “So for now I’m just going to enjoy your very, very comfy bed.”

Booping his nose you turn your back to Azriel pretending to fall back to sleep as you listen to him change.

All through his gym session Azriel couldn’t stop thinking about what you said about having your own space in the house. Punching the pads Cassian was holding up Az kept hitting harder and harder until Cassian was pushed across the training ring lines. “Time! Our rivals are screwed if you keep hitting like that.” Az let out a sarcastic laugh as he took his wraps off. “It’s not them. It’s my own thoughts.”

Rhys stopped his own work out to meander over to his brothers. Cass gives him a curious look. “What’s goin’ on?” Az shakes his head, clearing his throat, “I think I’m going to ask y/n to move in. I know I want a future with her and I want her here.”

The smiles plastered on Rhys and Cassian’s faces were like children just being told to go crazy in a toy store. They pounced on their brother, pulling him into a bone crushing hug as they excitedly talked over each other.

When Azriel came back to the room he found you brushing your hair in the bathroom. He stopped in the doorway. Thinking of all your stuff permanently placed on the counter next to his. How his home, your home, wouldn’t feel so empty anymore with you sharing his space.

You catch him staring in the mirror above the sink. The love sick, dreamy look on his face makes you smile. “What?”

Azriel comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your middle, burying his face in your neck. You place your hands on his arms leaning into him. “Az,” you say softly.

“Yeah.”

“You’re sweaty.”

He looks up to see you trying to hold back your laugh. Azriel hugs you tighter and kisses your cheek.

You stay like that for a few moments. Taking in each other's presence. Azriel lets go, turning you to face him. He brings those beautifully scarred hands up to cup your cheeks.

Before he can second guess himself Azriel asks you the question that’s been on his mind all morning, “Will you move in?”

Your eyes go wide. “I-what? Are you sure?” Azriel playfully rolled his eyes at you. “Yes. I want you here, love. Now please say yes,” he pleaded with you.

“Yes,” you said with silver lined eyes. Pulling Azriel closer you crashed your lips against his in celebration.

Over the next two weeks Azriel helped you move from your apartment into the mansion. Cassian and Rhys were more than happy to lend a hand as well. Watching those three move boxes (especially Az) had you practically drooling.

Once you were settled it was like you and Az were sent back to the honeymoon phase of your relationship. Waking up next to each other and having meals together had you thinking this is the start of forever with him.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel au #acotar azriel #azriel

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rocknrollsalad · 3 months ago

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rating: teen? cw: swearing, relationship drama, trying to talk things out but failing, mentions of show typical horrors, mentions of migraines, hints of nightmares tags: established relationship, red string of fate, robin's pathetic love life, steve's a romantic, the boys are on two different pages, but they get it together, grand gestures of love word count: 3685

written for @steddiebingo's Kissing Booth Card "soulmates"

huge, huge thanks to @hbyrde36 for the push that got me to where I needed to be with this! you're the best!!

read it on ao3

In an unfortunate tradition forming in their house, Steve and Eddie laid in their bed not yet ready for sleep but knowing they both had early shifts tomorrow and should be sleeping. Since sleep wouldn’t come, they laid in the dark and stared at the ceiling. That got old fast and was always followed by Steve filling the air with his thoughts.

That was the best part, it made the insomnia worth it. Never did Steve speak so freely as he did when laying there in the dark. Sometimes it was an in depth analysis of why Han Solo really is cool and not a loser but other times it was childhood stories and big worries. Both were welcomed but Eddie liked the latter more.

They’d landed somewhere in the middle this time. A conversation that started out simple enough; Robin had been lamenting her “horrible” love life again. Steve was always trying to win the best best friend award because Eddie would have locked Robin and Vickie in a room by now and told them they couldn’t come out until they kissed.

He still might. If only for his own sanity because Steve brought this shit home every time Robin was feeling low about it.

Steve dutifully listened to every repeated worry she had. Never complaining. He was a good guy. Better than Eddie deserved, that was for sure. Probably better than Robin deserved but who was worthy of a guy like Steve? Robin and Eddie were the ones lucky enough to be picked by him.

Or, like Steve’s conversation led to, brought together by fate. Them being cosmically meant to be wasn’t something Eddie had expected tonight but maybe dating the sort of guy who could only drink store brand cola when his team played or else they’d lose was the kind of guy to have thoughts on destiny and fate and other made up magic made to sell things.

The skepticism wasn’t welcome and Steve asked, “So you don’t think we’re tied together?”

Eddie sighed, all too aware that this teetered on being a thing. The sort of the thing the other mechanics complained about on smoke breaks but Eddie didn’t understand fully. Until now, that is. If he didn’t say the right thing, there was going to be a problem.

If only the thoughts in his head matched the words coming out of his mouth. “No! How would that even work? What if you lived in China? We’d never find each other!”

“What if I decided to visit America and then I was a tourist going around Chicago and your band was playing that night but you and Jeff were bored so you wandered the town and we both got pizza at the same place? You’d invite me to your show, of course I’d be wowed, and no one would know why we ran into each other but we were supposed to.”

Steve came with that answer so quickly that all Eddie could do was stare at him in disbelief. Was that a dream he had? Why did he do that so fast? They also needed to revisit that some other time because those storytelling skills had other uses.

“What if you were a woman?” Eddie asked, prodding the issue a little.

“Then you’d figure out you’re bisexual a lot quicker than you are now,” Steve scoffed.

Again, he came with that too quickly. It brought up even more questions than the fairy tale Steve spontaneously composed. Namely what evidence did Steve have to say that in any universe. What did he know?

Rather than get into that particular discussion, Eddie huffed and pulled the blanket over his head. He took a moment to himself to think about all of these and maybe brainstorm a few ways to make Buckley’s life hell for dropping this on his doorstep.

It was one thing to whine and complain and pine but when that caused troubles in Eddie’s relationship, something needed to happen. Something more than pushing these hopeless lesbians together. Right now, Eddie’s only thought was getting Vickie dates with anyone else. Really make Buckley suffer.

Steve didn’t need Eddie’s participation to continue though. That’s how he always talked at this hour, it was what Eddie loved about laying here too tired to stay awake but too awake to find sleep. Steve would just fill the void until sleep came for one of them. Tonight, Eddie wasn’t sure if it was a good thing but he listened. Cautiously.

“I’ll wait for you to figure it out, it’s not a big deal. I’m not rushing you or whatever and it doesn’t even matter, right? Like, you’re not dating anyone else so who cares.”

Eddie groaned and tried to roll over to wrap himself up in the comforter completely but Steve must have been holding his end. There was no give in the blanket so Eddie flopped back in place and grumbled again.

“But Robin says she can feel it, the string that connects her and Vickie. There’s a pull or something and everything leads to Vickie. She was nothing but evidence. Mountains of evidence. No mountain ranges of evidence and I know how you nerds love your evidence but it was too much.”

“I’m not a nerd,” Eddie deadpanned. Another thing he wasn’t going to get into right now.

“You are but that–”

“So are you,” Eddie countered, the same thing he always said in this conversation. On paper, Steve was a way bigger nerd than Eddie was.

“Anyway,” Steve said forcefully. “I don’t feel that with you. I don’t think we’re connected by a string or anything else. Like it’d probably be chains or something but Robin says that’s not how it works. Plus, I guess, chains are usually a bad thing in relationships. I just thought they sounded cooler than a string.”

Oh, okay. Someone slapped the metaphorical television and now Eddie was seeing the picture clearly. This wasn’t another long conversation about Buckley’s miserable pining, this was about Steve and Eddie.

Well shit. Here Eddie was being a brat about the sentimentality and idea of yet another evening dedicated to Robin’s inability to make the first move. Only it wasn’t about any of that. Mental gears needed to be shifted and a bit of recovery was in order. Neither were easy right now.

To avoid the apologies part, Eddie rolled to his side despite the blanket not coming with him and tried to think this all through. All he could think about was meeting Robin in a back alley and thanking her with his fists. That wasn’t helpful but it was an enjoyable moment. No one caused more problems between Steve and Eddie than her.

“I’m not even sure how Robin knows she has one,” Steve said and the hurt in his voice stabbed Eddie right in the chest. This stream of consciousness was getting real serious, real quick.

“Motherfucker,” Eddie said as he shot a glare at the back of the comforter, emphasising the last syllable with every annoyed bone in his body.

“How’s she know the other end goes to Vickie? How would anyone know where the other end of theirs is? I mean, what if mine goes to Robin? I’ve called her my soulmate so many times before but that’s not the same as, like, you?”

Eddie knew those questions weren’t asked to have answers, they were part of Steve working this out. He was saying all the things he couldn’t ask Robin in a moment that was about her. Everything he’d held back to be a supportive best friend was spilling out here.

Not that Eddie didn’t want to be there to help him work things out. Sometimes his answers were better received outside of this sort of spiraling though. Eddie did shift back to his back, no longer trying to freeze Steve out here but he stayed quiet as his boyfriend poured out his worries.

“But also, why’s she so worried about soulmates? Can’t she just be happy we’re alive and that there’s anyone in town to even have a crush on? That’s really unfair of me to say, I know. I mean, look what I got, but it just seems like the only thing she wants is this whole big grand storybook thing.”

Eddie caught the wistful sigh, Steve was just as romantic as Robin was. If not more so. Sure it was different flavors of the same soup or whatever but they were the sappiest romantics Eddie had ever met. It was no wonder they found each other. Occasionally, that wasn’t a good thing. This might be one of those moments.

“And besides, if there were red strings attaching soulmates that people knew about then how come Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler are married? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“But you want one,” Eddie said, moving the blanket off his face. He easily ignored the comments about other people’s marriages. Loads of people didn’t marry for love but it was that romanticism, Steve thought everyone did. Despite a fine example of people not marrying for love were his parents.

“Do you think we have one?”

Eddie lifted his arm to dangle in the air and then yanked it as far away from Steve as he could without falling out of bed. “Did you feel that?”

“Yeah, dipshit, you shook the whole bed.”

Whoops, so that wasn’t the right answer. It was marginally better than talking about how dumb Eddie thought the whole concept was but still wrong. He could think of a million reasons that he and Steve were meant for each other, current conversation aside. Why did they need some silly stupid string to connect them?

The rant sitting on the tip of Eddie’s tongue was too lengthy, they were supposed to be sleeping and maybe part of growing up was learning not everything needed to be an epic speech. Still, Eddie was one breath away from flipping on the lights to explain everything he felt right now. It wouldn’t help anyone, though.

Maybe in the morning, Eddie would have a more coherent argument. He was sure if he got up now it’d be a lot of incoherent rambling. Angry, incoherent rambling that would probably lead to him sleeping on the couch.

Neither of them said anything after that. Steve tossed and turned a bit but eventually filled the air with his snoring. Eddie had a tougher time finding sleep as he replayed everything that happened over and over, practicing all the things he wanted to say.

Starting with a long winded explanation that there was no string connecting Robin and Vickie, Robin just needed to believe it wouldn’t crash and burn if she tried anything while giving herself a reason to not do anything. If they were connected by fate then they’d be pulled together when the time was right.

A wonderful thought that would lead to nothing. Eddie couldn’t take on the insurmountable task of explaining that to either of them though. It didn’t matter who believed in mysticism and bullshit meant to make marriage look better, what mattered was Steve believed this. He wanted a soulmate and, apparently, wanted that to be Eddie. A terrifying thought if ever there was one.

Steve should probably aim a little higher. Maybe find someone who believed there was a string tied between them.

The alarm rang out way too soon. Eddie hadn’t worked this all out or gotten any rest. Nowhere in Steve’s fairy tale version of being in love did it talk about staying up all night because of irrational worries one’s partner had. Or how life had to go on after some weirdness. Bills still needed to be paid.

—-

It’d been two weeks since Steve laid awake struggling over where his red string of fate was. They hadn’t talked about it again but it’d been a constant in the back of Eddie’s mind. Every idle moment it’d shuffle to the forefront and he’d grapple with it again.

Not that it’d been a fight between them, at best it was Eddie saying the wrong thing and they were used to that, but Steve was kind of right. Something Eddie was okay with admitting, he just had to find out a way to do it. There needed to be more than an apology but if Eddie was good at one thing, it was making a production out of something.

Soulmates hadn’t ever been anything Eddie was looking for in his life. He didn’t dream of a prince charming or even like rom coms. If the club tried to force romance into their quests then Eddie would kill someone’s character and get them back on track. He wasn’t sappy like the rest of them.

Every couple of months or so Eddie would fall into some sort of funk thinking Steve was going to wise up and get out. Even as he had his own little love story, he didn’t buy into it all the way. His invisible hand wasn’t tying strings anywhere, it was waiting to pull rugs out from under Eddie.

However, in the days since the subject came up, Eddie realized how almost unbelievable it was that he ended up here with Steve. There were so many points in their brief history together that one tiny decision would have pushed them apart. That over and over and over again fate stepped in and kept him in Steve’s Harrington’s path.

Which was all a little too serious for Eddie. He spent an entire day thinking about how sad it was that Steve was destined to be with him out of all the people in the world. Which was followed by several days of thinking about how fucking lucky Steve was. Not that his soulmate was right where he was but that it was Eddie!

So, yeah, they didn’t rescue each other from some tall tower to prove this was real but maybe there was a little something to Buckley’s stupid belief. The jury was still out if the other end of her string went to Vickie or not but as thanks for creating this mess in Eddie’s life, he decided not to point that out to her.

Once Eddie got himself on the right side of this debate, he started to think about ways to help Steve over this little hurdle. That brought up some other feelings and prolonged anything as Eddie struggled with it too. Not in the same way as Steve though.

Why wasn’t everything he’d done good enough to show they were meant to be together or that Eddie was very, very happy with Steve? Why did they need some mythical string tying them together when Eddie could pick up on Steve’s migraines before Steve could? Or that Eddie could make Steve’s favorite dinner better than anyone else? What about the fact that he didn’t hang up a sword on the wall in the living room?

There were so many things that screamed out love while Steve was looking for a whisper. In the recurring self doubt, Eddie realized it was a difference in language and sometimes he had to communicate in a way Steve understood. If this was something he needed then Eddie would wrap a string around the planet all so Steve could find his way back to him.

Unfortunately that wasn’t in the budget and after a few days of brainstorming and a couple of Girl Scout books from the library, Eddie found the answer. An infinity knot bracelet. It wasn’t complicated or expensive but when was a gesture of love about either of those things? It was well within Eddie’s skill set and did exactly what he wanted it to.

With his photocopied directions and practice string, Eddie got it worked out in twenty minutes. It’d have been faster but the directions were a little misleading. They made an incredibly simple thing seem like weaving a whole tapestry. Those poor little girls.

He made a matching set but made sure to make one end longer than necessary, that was the part that went on and connected to the other. Eddie road tested it one afternoon while Steve was at work and it didn’t get in the way. It was long enough to show it was deliberate but not to endanger them.

From there it was figuring out how to give it to Steve. Like someone waiting to propose, Eddie carried the bracelets with him everywhere he went, hoping Robin’s sad string would come up again or…well Eddie didn’t know what else. If the universe was so invested, it’d give him a good moment.

Instead, Eddie got a dead tired Steve who plopped himself face down on the couch to groan and whine about customers. Eddie brought in sodas and sat cross legged on the coffee table to listen to every complaint. They were always the same but if Eddie had to deal with customers he’d have committed a real murder and not just been accused of one. Listening to their crimes was the least he could do if it kept Steve (or him) out of prison.

“This can’t be the rest of my life,” Steve moaned, a sentiment so common it was baked into the apartment walls at this point.

Why that was the moment, Eddie will never know, but he sprung from his spot and ran to his jacket. Soda nearly spilled all over the entryway as he searched the pockets to grab that now familiar handful of red rope. Once he found them, he ran back to Steve.

Eddie launched into an answer despite the gap in time. “Look, whatever. Sometimes life is dumb, right? It gives you a stupid job and, I don’t know, fucking monsters man. It’s given us some shit, god, but it’s not all bad.”

Steve pulled his face up from the couch and looked at Eddie like he was speaking another language. A fair reaction, Eddie was sure that didn’t make a lick of sense.

“Okay, lemme try that again? I think the universe tells you stuff but you don’t know how to listen and I think it’s been screaming at you to go to college. You’re not supposed to work at a register all day, man. I really think you gotta do something else like be a teacher or, I don’t know, a hand model. Something really important.”

“Why’d you have to run around the house for that?” Steve asked after shifting to lay on his side.

“Oh!” Eddie shook his head and held out his hand. “Because you thought you didn’t have a red string like Robin. You thought we didn’t and if you can’t see what the universe is giving you, I’m going to make it undeniable.”

With that Eddie held out his hand, two tangled up bracelets tried to spring to life from where he’d been clenching them together after retrieving them.

Cautiously, Steve sat up and inspected the pile. He pulled one out and Eddie immediately tossed his to the side and snatched Steve’s back. A little too aggressively, he took Steve’s hand and slid the bracelet on before he pulled it tight. Then put his own on to hold up to Steve’s.

“See,” he said.

Steve sat there and turned his wrist back and forth, Eddie slid to the end of the table and tried to read this look he’d not seen before. Unsure if he’d done the right thing and was dying inside waiting to hear anything from Steve.

When he couldn’t wait anymore Eddie tried to help the situation. “I made these parts longer so you know that’s the part that’s connected to mine and stuff. I don’t know, man. I don’t think there’s any doubt in my mind that you’re the one for me but if you can’t see that, I’ll help you out. Always.”

Steve sucked in a few breaths so quickly that Eddie thought the guy was hyperventilating. Eddie put his hands on Steve’s knees, ready to launch into the “nightmares protocol” here but after a few of them, Steve started to breathe normally again.

“This is so fucking sappy,” Steve said, his voice choking on the words.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Well you’d know. Good god, if there was an expert on the subject…”

With the weakest hand, Steve shoved at Eddie’s shoulder but instantly pulled it back to go back to staring at his newly decorated wrist.

There were a few beats of needed silence before Eddie leaned in and said, “I mean it though.”

Maybe he wasn’t the best at saying what he was feeling, even now when the moment called for it, but all Eddie could do was try. Judging by the way Steve looked right now, that was enough.

Butterflies filled Eddie’s stomach, the same way they did before him and Steve did anything. Back when they thought they’d just be friends and Eddie didn’t want to be in the same room as him because he couldn’t stop undressing Steve with his eyes. Or, in the stuff he wouldn’t admit, wanted to take him to the movies and fancy dinners and shit.

It was the sort of feeling that Eddie wanted to crawl inside of and make a home. And how did he tell Steve any of that? It was hardly a beautiful poem or whatever romantic people liked, though it would make a good song. One Eddie started mentally writing, wishing for a notebook nearby or something.

Steve struggled with his words too. Which was kind of nice, in a weird way. So they sat there for a long time, together and not saying anything. Until Steve dragged Eddie to the couch and curled up against him.

They didn’t bother with reruns or the nightly news, they just sat together. What else was there to do when someone made the proclamation of a life together forever? And there wasn’t a single doubt in Eddie’s mind that he would be with Steve until the day he died. Maybe the universe did know a thing or two. They just had to listen a little closer.

#i feel like i rambled too much with this one #but like i don't want to stress about that either??#i don't know if that's the right mentality #but this is the most i've written since december so i'm not going to be that picky about the out put #steddie #written for: steddie bingo #written for: the kissing booth card #(i'll get this on ao3 once i get a title)

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softestqueeen · 4 months ago

Note

congrats!! wanted to send in 2 requests if that’s alright. if anything the first request would be my top choice if you just wanna choose one :) both would preferably be jennifer jareau x reader

would you do prompts 34. "I love hearing your voice first thing in the morning." & 47. "Oh? Does that turn you on?". I know that 34 isn’t technically in the smut list but I thought it could work, maybe reader tends to have a raspier voice in the mornings. JJ saying 34 and reader saying 47

and if it’s not a bother I’d like to see prompt 5. “Please, look at me. Breathe, god please, breathe” with JJ saying the line after reader gets severely injured during a case. A happy little fluffy ending where reader is doped up on meds in the hospital and starts telling JJ that’s she’s really pretty and being an absolute flirt

a/n: so this is the first reqeuest, you can read the second one here! thank you sm for requesting this! ofc you can interpret the prompts however you like, i just tried to give them a little bit of structure. i hope you enjoy this <3 warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut, fingering, slight dom!reader, voice kink pairing: jennifer "jj" jareau x reader I 896 words special prompts I special masterlist

After you and your firlfriend, Jennifer Jareau, returned from two back-to-back cases, you both needed some time to just sit back and relax.

You returned yesterday in the middle of the night, exhausted and in an definete need of a realxing shower and some good time with your girlfriend.

Showering took up all of oyur energy though, so all the two of you could do that night was fall into bed and sleep.

The next morning started later than usual, your exhausted bodies seeking the warmth and comfort of the sheets and of each other. You could feel JJ shift next to you, the arm that was currently wrapped around you tightening further.

Her blonde hair looked so incredibly soft, a thin gap in the curtains letting the sun shine on it. You reach out your hand to tuck a strand of behind her ear, her eyes opening and a lazy smile appearig on her lips.

"Morning, baby," you mumble, your lips close to her ear, almost touching it. Your voice was still a little rough and definetely being more on the raspier side, this being the first time you've talked in a few hours. At your words, you could hear JJ's breath hitch, her breathing becoming slightly irregular.

Your girlfriend tilts up her head, now being able ot look into your eyes. "I love hearing your voice first thing in the morning." Now her hands wander to wrap around your neck, your head lifting slightly to accomodate her before laying back down on her arms.

You let one of your hands run down the legth of her, moving over her body and resting on her hip. Nudging her ear with your nose, you whisper in to her ear.

"Oh? Does that turn you on?" Your lips stretch into a smirk, her cheeks turning pink. Busted.

Leaning down towards her face, you finally connect your lips, a soft sight leaving JJ's lips at the contact. Deciding that you both were not in the mood for teasing after not having been able to do anything with each other, you don't hesitate to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue slip into her mouth.

Now moving your other hand to her hip as well, you turn the both of you around, your fronts now pressed together with JJ on her back.

You never stop kissing, even when one of you hands slowly wanders down towars JJ's panties. Her breath hitched again, once let two fingers wander over your her still clothed core.

"Let me show you how much I love you," a small groan left her lips at your words, "Let me make you feel good JJ."

"Please," was all she could get out.

She let out a content sigh once you pulled away her panties and made contact with her wetness. You let your fingerds glie through her folds, occasionally flicking over her clit.

After some teasing, you start circling her entrance, slowly pushing inside. You pulled away from kissing her, one of her hands wandering to your sholder, the other one trying to cover the noises she was making.

Once you realised what she was doing, you stopped your movements and pulled out of her. "Don't cover your mouth, I want to hear you. Please."

Your voice held almost as much desperation as the noices she was making once you stopped. Hearing your words the blond immediately removed her hand, placing it on your other shoulder.

Resuming your movements you slipped another finger into her, slowly curling them to hit her g-spot. Her moans were now flowing freely, her face contorting in pleasure with every curl or flick of your thumb against her clit.

"You look so beautiful for me, baby? Do you like that, me talking to you? I can feel you getting closer," you could feel her walls clencing your fingers.

"Mhm, yes, please. Don't stop." JJ's voicce was breathy, with her eyes closed you could look at her without her shying away. Eyebrows drawn together, nose scrunched up and lips parted. In this moment she looked almost etheral, her nipples peeking though her thin sleep shirt, her hands wandering to you neck.

Her eyes opened and she pulled you down to her, immediately deepening the kiss once your lips touch. You add a third finger and your lips lose contact again, her head falling back and her eyes rolling.

"Come for me, JJ. Let go for me." The stimulation of your finger on her clit, the fingers inside of her and your words and voice were all it took to push her over the edge, the coil in her stomach finally snapping.

With a shout of your name JJ came, your slowing movements carefuly guiding her through her orgasm. Her limp hands fall to her sides, her erratic breathing sowly coming to a stop.

You oulled out of her, righting her underwear again. Laying down next to her, you pull her against you and cover the two of you with the blanket. One of your hands slowly starts to trace patterns on her back.

"You alright?" you whisper hte question into her ear, for some reason not wanting to disrupt the silent peace that settled over you.

"Yea, I'm fine. You wanna go again?" Her question made both of you laugh, though you didn't hesitate to rid yourself of the rest of your clothing.

the requests for this event are OPEN! here are the prompts!

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open!

taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa

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ladyunholy6 · 1 month ago

Text

Taste, Part One

“Baby?” Hyunjin purrs in my ear, trying to wake me.

I wake from a dream, groggy, and turn to him, blinking sleepily.

“Mmm?”

He chuckles, smoothing my hair out of my face. “You’re so cute when you’re sleepy like this. I almost feel bad waking you.”

I clear my throat, still trying to blink the sleep out of my eyes. “Why did you? Is everything ok?”

“I missed you.” He runs a hand down my shoulder to my side, his touch light as he looks down at me. “You promised you’d let me draw you today.”

I smile at him, remembering our conversation from the previous night. I caress his cheek, placing a soft kiss on his nose. “I did. I just didn’t think you’d be waking me up so early for it.” I grin at him as he pulls me closer, our bodies pressed together tightly.

“Oh, that’s not why I woke you up. There’s a few…things I’d like to do before we get to that…”

I raise an eyebrow at him, sliding my hand underneath his shirt to trace circles on his tummy.

Mornings with him were often like this since I moved in with him over a month ago. He wakes me gently and we talk in our sleepy state until we inevitably end up intertwined. After, one or both of us must leave for work, and it happens again the next morning. But today, it’s Saturday. Which means two things – a whole two days to spend together, and his roommate, Felix, is home all weekend as well.

He leans closer to me as my hand trails further underneath his shirt, burying his face in my hair, inhaling deeply.

“I’ll never get tired of waking up like this…with you here, in my bed…smelling so good…”

I trail kisses along his jaw, nudging him a bit so he pulls his face out of my hair to look at me. I kiss him gently, scooting even closer to him. He wraps his arms around me as his tongue slips into my mouth, eliciting a soft moan from me. I slip my other hand under his shirt, pushing it up so I can scratch his chest and stomach ever so lightly. He groans into my mouth and I chuckle. He breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against mine.

“That’s not fair, Kitten.” He murmurs, moving to bury his face in my hair again. He starts to lick and kiss my neck, his hands roaming over my thighs and hips. He bites down gently, knowing what it’ll do to me. I chuckle, bucking my hips against him.

“Are we playing dirty now, my love?”

I pull the hem of his shirt up, pulling it off him and tossing it. I lick a stripe up the middle of his stomach to his chest, biting and sucking a hickey onto his skin just below his collarbone. I slowly kiss my way up his shoulder to his neck, to his most sensitive spot. I lean in close, kissing the inch of skin right below his ear, while I fiddle with the waistband of his shorts.

“How hard are you, baby? You’re always so hard for me, especially in the morning. Let me check…”

I continue to lick and kiss the sensitive spot below his ear while I slip my hand inside his shorts, a breathy moan escaping his mouth as I do so. As I suspected, his impressive length is at full attention, ready and waiting for me to play with. I grip him, beginning to pump him slowly as he rolls onto his back. He groans, mumbling something in Korean that I only half understand. I continue to pleasure him with my hand as he moans and writhes beside me. I lean over, licking up the little bit of pre-cum that has collected at his tip. He lets out a loud, frustrated noise and grabs me by the shoulders, pinning me to the bed.

“I had a dream, Kitten. Right before I woke up. I spent an entire day worshipping you with my mouth, and when I woke up, I swear I could taste you. You were asleep…but now you’re not.”

He looks down at me, a desperate expression on his face. He leans down, capturing my lips in another fierce kiss, forcing his tongue into my mouth. One hand goes to the back of my neck, holding me to him, the other down my panties. He feels around gently, rubbing my clit before reaching down further to tease my entrance.

“Oh, you’re wet already…do you like the idea of me spending all day worshipping you like this? Would you let me? Please, baby? I want to draw the sated look on your face when we’re done.”

He rubs my clit some more, dragging his fingers through my heat, teasing me. He brings his fingers up to his mouth, licking them and moaning.

“I need more of you…please?”

I nod, a small whine escaping me.

He smirks and sits up, pulling my panties down my legs, throwing them across the room. I grin at his enthusiasm as he settles himself between my legs, inhaling deeply. He looks up at me through his lashes, silently asking for permission again. I nod eagerly and he grins, dipping below my line of sight to lick a slow stripe from my entrance to my clit, swirling his tongue around to taste me. I let out a low, needy moan as he wraps his arms around my thighs to keep me still. He flicks his tongue against me so quickly, it almost feels like my favorite toy and my eyes roll back in my head. I grip the sheets, my hips bucking against his grip.

He moans against me, switching to slow, sensual circles around my clit, occasionally dipping into my entrance greedily. He picks one of my thighs up, pushing it back and pushing his tongue into me, fucking me with it and lapping at me like I’m his last meal. I whimper and moan loudly as he continues this, my climax quickly approaching.

He starts to murmur against me, “More, baby…I need more…come for me, please…”

He pushes two fingers into me, curling them, while he circles my clit with his tongue again. I gasp, arching my back off the bed. He pulls me back down, pulling his fingers out and licking me furiously. I’d never seen him like this before – totally feral from the taste of me.

I’m a panting, whimpering mess beneath him as I reach my peak, crying out. He holds my hips up off the bed, drinking in my release and licking me completely clean, almost to the point of overstimulation. He gently sets me back down on the bed and I lay there, panting, staring at him in shock.

He sits up, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Well, there’s one…can you handle more?”

He pulls his hard length out of his shorts, pressing it against my wetness. I instinctively pull my knees up to invite him inside and he wastes no time. I sob in pleasure as he pushes into me, still sensitive from the intense orgasm he just gave me moments ago. It’s always best like this – not waiting for the sensitivity to go away. It means that I can get there again quickly – and I can already feel it. He uses the tip of his cock to massage that special spot, knowing what’ll happen if he does.

“Oh baby, you’re still so sensitive, aren’t you? Does it feel good? Do you want to cum again before I fill you up completely?”

I nod eagerly, unable to form a coherent sentence. He puts both my legs on his shoulders and starts to roll his hips, holding back from pushing inside me completely. I whine, wanting to feel more of him.

“Kitten, you need to cum again. Then I’ll fuck you senseless. I thought I was the impatient one this morning…” He grins, picking up his pace a bit. He continues to roll his hips, a sweet torturous feeling that brings me closer and closer to the edge again. I’m reduced to a whimpering, needy mess beneath him once more, and he loves it. He holds my gaze, pushing my legs further back, and pushes himself completely into me. That, in turn, pushes me over the edge and I lose it. I sob his name, my pussy clenching around his cock as he finally seeks his own end. He pulls out of me and flips me over, pulling my hips up to him.

“I want you to feel every inch, sweetheart.”

He teases my entrance for just a moment before slamming back inside me and setting a relentless pace. We’re both so worked up, our mutual sounds of pleasure filling the room, that we’ve completely forgotten that the door to our room isn’t closed all the way. A sliver of light filters through the cracked door from the kitchen on the other side as the sun comes up. But we don’t notice, too lost in each other to acknowledge anything else. Who does notice, though, is Hyunjin’s roommate, Felix, who has just woken up and decided to make everyone breakfast. He opens the refrigerator, determined to begin his quest of making pancakes for us, when he hears me moaning and stops dead. He turns toward our bedroom door, eyes wide, wondering if he should close it. He tries to shake off the shock, collecting the ingredients from the fridge and setting them on the counter while the sound of Hyunjin and I having rough sex fills the kitchen. Felix moves around the kitchen, trying to ignore us but failing as he grows increasingly more frustrated.

Hyunjin and I are truly in the moment, moving together as one when the scent of blueberries and maple syrup fill our senses. We both moan and my stomach growls as he slows his pace slightly, distracted by the promise of food wafting into the room.

“Yongbok must be cooking breakfast.” He says, panting.

I glance backward towards our door and notice that it’s slightly ajar.

“Oh god, baby, look.” I whisper, pointing at the door.

Hyunjin chuckles, picking up his pace again.

“Do you want me to stop, Kitten?”

I whimper at the thought, and he pulls me up, so my back is against his chest, still moving inside me.

“I didn’t think so. The noises you make while I’m inside you are so pretty…I think Felix should hear them.”

He starts moving faster, snaking one hand up to my breasts and the other down between my legs to rub my clit. I moan loudly – a drawn-out, desperate sound that only fuels Hyunjin’s determination to make me come undone yet again. Only this time, he’s chasing his own pleasure as well as mine. The feral energy I felt earlier when he was devouring me returns and he bends me back over, fucking me harder than he ever has. He rubs my clit in time with his thrusts and at some point, I’m screaming – totally lost in the feeling of him. I feel that familiar heat coiling low in my belly again and I whine, pushing back against him to meet his thrusts.

“Mmm, my greedy little slut…are you going to cum again? Both of us always wanting more…we could spend the entire day in this bed, couldn’t we? But not today. I still need to capture the way your body looks after I’ve had enough time to taste and feel every inch of you…”

He’s panting hard now, and my legs feel like jelly as we push against each other.

“Baby, please…”

He growls at my plea, his pace becoming erratic as he gets closer to his own climax.

“I know, Kitten. We’re almost there. I’m going to give you what you want for being such a good girl for me.”

Felix sighs, putting in his earbuds just as he hears me screaming Hyunjin’s name for the third time. He sits at the large island in the middle of the kitchen with a pile of blueberry pancakes, butter, and maple syrup. He listens to music and begins to eat, frustration written all over his face. Felix and Hyunjin had been friends for quite some time, and since I’d moved in, I could tell how close they were. Over the last few weeks, however, I sensed that my moving in had changed the vibe. Felix seemed tense near me, and when all of us were in a room together, he was downright flustered. He continues to eat, trying to distract himself when Hyunjin and I emerge from the room, sweaty and disheveled.

“Lee Yongbok, your food smells amazing.” Hyunjin pats him on the shoulder as he passes behind him, grabbing two plates from the cabinet. Felix takes his earbuds out, turning around.

“I made plenty. Take as much as you like.”

I smile sheepishly at Felix, thanking him.

“Of course, Princess. You look beautiful this morning. Here, have some orange juice.”

Felix gets up and pours me some juice, setting the cup down by the seat next to him. Hyunjin stares at him, mild annoyance on his face as he fills our plates with pancakes. I thank them both, looking away as they glare at each other.

“So, Felix, what are your plans for the day?” I ask him.

He turns to me, a big smile on his face.

“Today, I’m going to try to perfect my brownie recipe. Care to be my taste tester?”

“Oh yes please! You’ll have to bring the brownies to me, though. I promised Jinnie I’d let him draw me today.”

“I’d be happy to.” He smiles at me. “Hyunjin is so talented, and with you as the subject, I’m sure it’ll be beautiful either way.”

I blush a bit at his compliment, taking the last bite of my pancakes. I stand, taking my plate and fork to the sink where Hyunjin has been listening to our conversation. I set them down and he tips my chin up to look at him. He kisses me gently, pulling me to him.

“Mmm, sweet. Are you ready to be my muse, Kitten?”

I touch my messy hair and look down at the baggy shirt of his that I have on. “Like this?”

He nods, grinning. “Yes, of course. Just…minus the shirt, and those soaked panties you have on underneath it.”

My eyes go wide. “…naked?”

He nods and grins again. “Yes, naked. With that messy hair…beautiful. Now, go lay on the bed on your stomach. I’ll be in, in a moment. I have to talk to Yongbok about something.”

I step away, turning towards the bedroom and see Hyunjin leaning on the island, giving Felix a stern look. I step into the bedroom, starting to remove what little clothing I have on when I hear them whisper-yelling at each other in the kitchen. I creep towards the doorway trying to make out what they’re saying. I get bits and pieces through their whispered half English, half Korean, and from what I can tell, they’re both not happy with the other but I’m not sure why. I try to peek through the crack where the door is hinged to the wall, but all I see is Hyunjin’s face – full of frustration and something else…longing, perhaps? I hear Felix sigh and get up from the island and I run over to the bed, tossing myself onto it. I try to position myself in an artistic way but end up just laying on my stomach on top of our pillows. Hyunjin comes in and laughs at me, shaking his head.

“Here, let me.”

He moves the pillows around and instructs me on how to position myself across the bed. He moves my hair around, running his fingers through it, sending sparks through me. I make a low, contented noise and he lowers his face to me, whispering.

“Mmm, you like that, don’t you? I’m not done with that pretty little pussy yet, but first…I need to draw you. You look so beautiful like this.”

I groan a bit at his words, and he stands, backing up to his large drawing table in the corner of our room. He gathers everything he’ll need onto the table and then quickly comes back over to me, whispering in my ear.

“While you lay here, I want you to think about what we just did before breakfast…and what we’ll do after, if you’re a good girl and stay nice and still for me.”

I grin at him as he walks back over to his workspace, my body reacting to his words already. He begins sketching and I do my best to stay still. The more I think about our activities this morning, though, the more difficult it becomes. He raises his eyebrows at me and grins mischievously as I practically whine at him from the bed, my pussy aching. It doesn’t help that I can see how hard he is from my position on the bed, and when he notices me staring, he wiggles his hips. I groan loudly and he laughs, almost dropping the pencil in his hand. I shift my hips a bit, desperate for any amount of friction. Hyunjin gives me a warning look and is about to say something when Felix opens the door, brownie in hand. We all stare in shock at each other for a moment until Felix breaks the silence. He covers his eyes, looking away.

“Oh god, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you’d be naked! I’ll uh – I’ll just put the brownie back in the pan.”

Hyunjin huffs, setting his pencil down. “Give her the brownie, Felix.”

Felix looks from him to me, still not moving.

“Actually...you should probably feed it to her. I need her to stay still.” He smirks at Felix, a look in his eyes I don’t quite understand. Felix looks beyond flustered but approaches me anyway. He kneels by the head of the bed, mostly out of Hyunjin’s line of sight. He breaks the brownie apart into much smaller pieces, holding the first to my lips. I open my mouth, and he gently places a small piece on my tongue, his hand just barely brushing my lips. I start chewing and almost immediately let out a moan of satisfaction.

“Mmmmm…Felix, this is delicious! Mmm.”

He smiles and gives me another bite, smiling at my enthusiasm.

“I think they’re almost perfect. Less chocolate chips, maybe. They’re so gooey.”

“No, no. I think they’re perfect! I love gooey, warm brownies.”

Felix swallows hard, feeding me another piece. He sits cross-legged, trying to make himself more comfortable. I make more contented noises as he feeds me, Hyunjin watching us as he continues to draw me.

Felix clears his throat, feeding me the last piece in his hand, his fingers gently caressing the side of my face as he pulls his hand back.

“You know, I’m glad you moved in here.” He says, his voice full of sincerity.

I want to turn to him but I catch myself before I move. “You are?”

He idly plays with my hand that hangs over the top of the bed. “Yeah, of course. I was thinking…maybe sometime we could sit down, and I can help you with your Korean? I noticed you’ve been trying to improve, and I’ve definitely been there.”

My heart clenches a bit from his kind offer, and I turn to him despite knowing I should keep still.

I smile at him and nod. “I’d like that, yeah.”

He grins wide as Hyunjin comes over to us, pencil in hand.

“What’s going on? Did you tell her?”

Felix’s face drops, his eyes going wide.

“Tell me what?” I ask, Hyunjin immediately realizing his mistake.

They both stare at each other, silent for a moment, before Hyunjin speaks up.

“Well, I guess you should tell her now, Lix. It’ll be fine, I think.” He sighs and walks back over to his drawing table.

I turn to Felix, propping myself up on my elbows.

“Tell me what?” I ask again, beginning to feel nervous.

Felix smiles and takes one of my hands in his as he holds my gaze. He takes a deep breath like he’s about to reveal something big and I shift nervously on the bed.

“Over the last two months, I’ve developed feelings for you.”

My eyes go wide and I stare at him, not sure what to say. I look over to Hyunjin, who, to my surprise, is smiling. “Tell her the rest, Lix.”

“I also, uh…well, WE, uh…” He trails off, until Hyunjin steps in and finishes his sentence for him.

“Before you and I met, Lix and I were…involved.”

My eyes go wide again, and I sit up, looking at both of them.

“You mean…you two? I had no idea.”

“That’s because once you and Hyunjin started dating, we stopped. But the feelings never went away. And now…well, now I’m just frustrated every day because I like you both so much. Hearing you two earlier was like torture.”

My face falls as I realize that our careless mistake had caused him so much pain. The thought of Felix feeling like he had to hide all of his feelings from us. I look at him, still seated on the floor, looking up at me with a concerned expression on his face.

“It’s a lot, I know. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He goes to pull his hand away, but I stop him.

“No, I’m glad you did…I think maybe we could…I don’t know.”

Hyunjin comes out from behind his desk and walks toward us, standing next to Felix.

“What are you saying, Kitten?”

“Maybe we could all…be…together. The three of us.”

They both stare at me, wide-eyed, processing what I’ve suggested. Hyunjin sits down next to me, his hand on my back.

“You’d be comfortable with that? It’s not exactly conventional.”

“As long as we’re all happy, I think it would be great. I know you both are close, so I don’t think us being together in this way would be that different.”

Felix and Hyunjin look at each other for a moment and Felix stands, sitting on the bed on the other side of me.

“I would really like to explore that with both of you. Hyunjin, what do you think?”

Hyunjin smirks at both of us, leaning closer to me.

“I like it. And I like the thought of our Princess being at the mercy of both of us…”

Felix caresses my side, and I’m suddenly acutely aware that I’m still naked. Hyunjin presses a kiss to my shoulder and gently pushes me back onto the bed. They hover over me, looking hungry.

“Are you ready for round two, Kitten?”

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