#so it’s really stupid but texting them and like chatting feels like a big step for me

[rainecreatesstuff]

just texted like all my friends my therapist would be so proud

[piss-pumpkin]

🌼Proof of existence🥝

Douce amere epilogue, (older)Dipper pines x reader, ~4.2k words masterlist Prev

One year. One full year. You swallowed hard as you drove the streets of Piedmont. It wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from him, or talked to him, but like… a full year. It felt like a long time, even though it wasn’t. Last summer could’ve been a lifetime ago. And last summer had a lifetimes worth of memories. 

Your old cheap car shuddered at each pothole, and you pursed your lips. The car wasn’t what you worried about. Just chill, you told your heart rate. It refused to listen, and kept high and thundering. Whatever. He’s still your boyfriend. Even though it’s been a full year. Ugh. 

And you had plenty of time to catch up on everything that didn’t make it into messages and text on the road trip. Normally, Piedmont to Gravity falls was a day trip. A handful of hours, not too bad, but annoying for a bus. But nowadays, you actually had a car and a license. 

It really worked out in your favor. Your school ended a couple weeks before the twins, so you had time to hangout with friends, take a trip down and around, and eventually end up in Piedmont to pick him up. And the final destination was the mystery shack. All you had to do was grab him and go. And make some stupid stops along the way.

The conditions of your ‘new driver’ license were weird though. Legally, you could only have one non family passenger. As much as you ignored that rule with friends back home, crossing state borders and big cities breaking the law seemed like tempting fate. So you could only take one twin. You weren’t entirely disappointed about that, though…

You pulled into the school parking lot, scanning the sign. This was their high school. You’d seen photos, but in real life it felt like the set of a movie. 

Your foot arched on the brake, and your hand glided to shift into park. Deep breaths. School wasn’t out yet, you were early. You had time to hype yourself up. As you shut the car off, you pulled out your phone to text him and say that you’re here.

Wanna come in actually? I’m just in history, He responded.

You blinked a few times, pursing your lips. Why, you typed and sent. Walking into his classroom randomly and interrupting things didn’t seem like a good idea. And in front of a whole class? Bad plans. You already were feeling weird just sitting in the parking lot, like a creep. 

He was typing. The three dots of the messages popped as you waited, feet on the dash. So I can prove you exist long story, he sent. 

You stared at the phone a moment. That seemed dumb. Dipper must have realized that was ominous, because he started to type again. 

We didn’t even have a lesson today cuz it’s the end of the year you’re fine to come in we’re just hanging out. 

You sighed. Will it be awkward? You asked. 

He typed for a moment, then stopped. Then started again, and said no. 

Ugh. To proof you exist? What did that even mean? Ugh. Fine, you sent, hopping out of the car and locking it behind you. Do I need to like check in at an office or something to go in?

No just you can just walk up, he sent.

Your brow crinkled. Fr? You asked. That seemed… somewhat weird if anyone could just walk in. Even if you were a teenager and seemed like you were in the right place. 

Dipper was typing, It’s not a great school.

Fine, whatever. You started for the door. Around the school was far from empty, despite the fact that class was supposedly still on. People sat around on benches, or just the ground chit chatting. A bunch of them had yearbooks to look through and sign. 

You looked at your phone to avoid making awkward eye contact with any of them. What’s the room? You asked Dipper. 

He gave back a number and said it was on the second floor. The only problem was, this school was massive. Stepping inside the main door to the foyer, it alone was huge. It led and tapered off into a cafeteria on one side, and in the centre was two stairways that led to a balcony, more stairs, and halls on the second floor. 

You frowned, and started to type as you scanned the room, Dipper you shitbag more specific direct- then you saw somebody sitting alone. Everyone else was dispersed around in groups, so a loner seemed the most approachable. 

“Um, hi,” you started, doing a little wave as they looked up from their phone. “Could you direct me to room,” you checked Dippers text, “twenty-two oh-four?”

Their long brown hair parted as they stood up and nodded, “I’ll take you, I have to grab my stuff there anyway.” A mask was covering the bottom half of their face, but their eyes seemed friendly enough. 

They started for the stairs, and you followed behind as they navigated around the people. As you passed classrooms with windows facing in, you saw so few people actually doing lessons. You smiled as you looked in. Summer break was literally ten minutes away, everyone knew it. You were so close to getting back to Gravity Falls. 

“You don’t go here, right?” The person leading you asked, glancing back at you. 

You laughed nervously, “uh, no,” you said, shaking your head. “Just picking somebody up.”

They nodded along, “Okay, for a second I thought I was really stupid and just never noticed you.”

You fought the urge to make some joke like how could anyone not notice me. That would be super awkward with somebody you don’t know.

”But like how could anyone not,” they laughed, turning back to you for a moment. “Like, in a good way, I love your fit.”

Oh wow, that’s literally what you were just thinking. They must be psychic. “Uh, thanks,” you smiled, “you too, and I love the hair,” you said, pulling a strand of your own hair for emphasis. 

You followed them to a classroom, and just through the windows you could see him. Dippers back was turned to you as he sat on a desk and chatted with some people, Wendy’s hat resting on his head. Probably with friends. You swallowed. It was weird seeing him with friends you didn’t know, now that you thought about it. The closer you stepped to the door the more it felt like worlds colliding, that you were just for summer, and don’t belong with his year-round friends. 

“You know him?” Your guide asked, brow raised. You could almost hear a slight twinge of distain in their voice.

Shit. Your head whipped back away from the windows. They must have caught you staring. You stepped half a pace back as you laughed, “uh yeah, my,” you hesitated. Why hesitate? It’s true? “Boyfriend… the guy with the hat.”

”Oh,” they said quickly, brow still raised. The mask hid half their expression, the reaction was hard to gauge. “What’s your, uh, name?” They asked casually, pointing at you. 

You swallowed. This was weird right? “Y/n,” you said.

They smiled. Or at least looked like they did, with their eyes. “Well, that explains it,” they said. They must have considered that bit of conversation over, because they started reaching for the door handle, leaving you standing there, a little confused. “And for the record, I always knew you were real,” they added, slight sigh in their tone. 

Again with that? Your guide opened the door, and slipped inside, offering you a little wave as they walked away while you hesitated. They seemed to know people, chatting and saying bye to a few people as they found a chair with a backpack under it. They seemed nice. If, a little weird. 

Sighing, you twiddled your fingers trying to work up the courage. He’d mentioned the names of his and Mabel’s friends, but you hadn’t really seen faces. You’d only been in school a few weeks prior, but seeing the classroom you felt like an alien. A whole other school. The slight differences made all the difference. It was a whole other world, and weird to think that other people had their whole lives here, the same way you had yours back home. 

Deep breaths. Be cool. You pushed open the door, and tried not to look awkward as you made your way through the classroom. Relax, you told yourself. But still, the creeping feeling that this was a world you weren’t a part buried itself in your spine. Somehow, weird monsters in the woods seemed less scary than your boyfriends friends. 

You pursed your lips, and came up beside him, playfully hitting him in the arm in between sentences he was trading with friends. Trying not to be awkward. Or interrupt.

Dipper turned towards you, and his face lit up. It was almost enough to calm any nerve that you might have. He grinned, taking your hand, and his friends took the hint to pause the conversation. Or maybe his friends could tell Dipper was focused on something else now. That made you feel a little better. “Oh man, I can’t believe you’re here,” he laughed. 

His friend snickered, “yeah neither can I,” he muttered.

You weren’t sure how to respond, so you didn’t. Lucky for you, Dipper filled the gap. He scooted so his body was facing you, “okay, so,” he started, waving his free hand in the air for punctuation. “There’s just-“ he gestured his head at his friends- “a few people I want you to meet, then we can head out, yeah?”

“Uh, sure,” you said, glancing again at the people watching this interaction. Two boys and a girl looked at you, all with slight smiles you could only guess were formed in surprise. 

Dipper turned back to them, “this is Y/n,” he announced proudly. 

“Holy shit, it’s like meeting a celebrity,” one of boys laughed.

The other one hit him on the side as he giggled, “Like Miku.”

The girl chimed in next, “Or Jesus,” she snickered under her breath.

They giggled while Dipper shook his head. One of them, a boy, looked at you with a lopsided smile. “I am… shocked that you’re here,” he said lightly, sounding friendly. 

“Uh,” you managed, glancing at Dipper.

Another friend glanced at Dipper, then back to you. She laughed lightly, “yeah, I can’t believe this,” she said. She turned to the last friend, “what do I owe you?”

You stood silently with lips pursed as they did, waiting for the conversation to be over. 

One rooted around in her backpack for a wallet, and they started to trade money. You awkwardly side eyed Dipper, and he seemed to take the hint. He hopped off the desk, “alright, we’re going,” he said waving as he turned around, “Bye guys.”

They waved bye to both of you. 

Dipper turned around way easier than you. Maybe you were still reeling from that interaction. Dipper laughed under his breath, and turned you around by the shoulders, and gestured at the door. Blinking, you shot him a look, glancing between him and his friends. A light blush dusted his cheeks, but he nodded. Maybe that meant he’d tell you later. 

You waved at the friends, and followed him out.

“See ya, Y/n,” the person with the mask said on your way out, with a little wave. 

You smiled, “See you!” 

Now it was Dippers turn to shoot you a look. He raised his brow, and glanced once between you and your… friend seemed like a stretch. Acquaintance. He did a double take between you and your newfound acquaintance. 

It was busier outside then when you walked in. Way more people were hanging out, waiting for buses or just standing around skipping class. You pursed your lips. That made it far more annoying to drive. 

“Okay so, Dip, what was that?” You asked, shaking your head as you made your way to the car. You fiddled with the keys in your hand as you walked. “Why am I apparently like Jesus?

Dipper sucked a breath in through his teeth and smiled, though it looked half pained. “okay so,” he started, “Nobody thought you were real.”

”What?”

He shook his head cheekily at the floor, “Well, I mentioned you once, and so they asked…” he looked up, as if to make sure you were still following the plot. He started animatedly taking with his hands. “And I accidental said you lived far away… and you know the whole ‘my girlfriend goes to another school’ lie people pull… so everyone just kinda… assumed.” Dipper was shaking his head, “because they suck.”

You paused before you unlocked the car door to take that in. Your head tilted to the side, “couldn’t Mabel just… tell them otherwise?”

Dipper winced. “Yeah, she sure could have,” he said wistfully.

You smiled, “but she didn’t?”

”Nope,” he added quickly.

You snickered as you slipped into the drivers seat, and Dipper the passengers. “And you didn’t just… I don’t know, show them pictures?”

Dipper sighed, rubbing his temples, “the answer to any question you might have is that Mabel sucks, trust me. I showed pictures once, and she convinced people they were AI generated.”

You shook your head. “Damn bro,” you said, pushing the key in the ignition. “For the whole year?”

He sighed, nodding.

You laughed, “How have you never mentioned this?” 

Dippers face fell into his hands as he groaned, “ugh, I don’t know,” he complained. “Embarrassing?”

You smiled, playfully hitting him across the chest, and holding your hand there a moment as he lifted his head. You started out of the parking lot, careful around the crowds of people walking around and laying very little attention to surrounding cars. “You totally would do that, though,” you snickered. “Lie about something like that.”

Dipper scoffed, “One, no I wouldn’t. Two, I don’t know why people think that, or why Mabel had such an easy time lying.”

You laughed as you escaped the parking lot. “Because it’s pretty easy to believe, to be honest. Like, in another life you totally would.” The open road ahead of you, and the easy conversation was lifting the weight off your shoulders. “In another bitchless life,” you giggled. 

Dipper groaned in disgust as you giggled. “Whatever,” he said, arms folded across his chest. “Now you have to tell me how you know Sal,” he questioned.

”Who? Also do we need to stop at your place to get your stuff?” 

“Yeah,” Dipper said, “Sal’s the one who said bye to you as you left.”

”Oh,” you blurted, “They showed me to your classroom, they seemed nice.”

Lucky for your gas tank, Dipper didn’t live far from school. You were already turning down the suburb streets, where all the houses looked very same-y, but one do them was his. You went slow as you scanned for his address. 

“They are nice,” Dipper confirmed, “But I got scared for a second, they do not like me. Remember when I said I had an ex that I totally screwed over?” He asked sheepishly, offering you a small smile. “Also I’m a few streets down, keep going.”

“Ooooh,” you said. “Yeah they were weird when I was looking at you,” you confessed. 

You caught up on the… somewhat small town drama. The way Dipper talked about Piedmont made it feel small, despite its population. Maybe a consequence of being Mabel’s brother was knowing everyone. 

The twins mom invited you in, made very lovely small talk. Unfortunate that Mabel was out with friends. But you’d see her again in a day or two. You were grinning at the thought. 

And you were gone, off into the somewhat known unknown when Dipper came back downstairs with his luggage. 

                                      …

The road to Gravity falls was a murder road. Winding, dark, covered in trees, and a villainous aura. It had gotten dark the more you drove, and the more stops you made along the way at the horrible tourist attractions that all had nothing on the mystery shack.

But you were tired, and Dipper couldn’t drive. So camp time it was. 

Oh perfect. You slowed down as you spotted a small concealed logging road in the dark. You pulled the car onto it, and drove carefully along the rocky ground and potholes. 

“Dude, this is a stupid idea,” Dipper said, wiping his eyes as he scanned the shadowed forest. 

You were scanning too. “Aha,” you exclaimed, your eyes settling on a little parking space-like nook off the road. “This is a spot,” you claimed, steering the car into it.

”no the fuck it is not.”

You grinned as you put the car in park, and shut it off, and unclipped your seatbelt. “Yes it is,” you argued, opening the door. 

The outside was warm, despite the late hour. Summer nights, you supposed. The trees were tall overhead, shadowing the dark blueish and starry sky. A light wind was blowing through, and the atmosphere might’ve been ominous and scary if this was Gravity Falls, but out side of its paranormal borders, it was peaceful. 

Dipper got out with you, and even in the dark you could feel his judgmental gaze from the other side of the car. “So now what?” He said, unimpressed. 

“Well, we brush our teeth, and set up camp,” you instructed, pointing at him over the car roof. Your eyes were adjusted enough to make out his deadpan face in the moonlight. 

He sighed, diving back into the passenger seat to Ricky through a bag. “Did you… bring camping stuff?” He asked, muffled by the car door. 

“I brought a car,” you offered. 

His sigh cut the light he forest air and you giggled. He shut the cat door again, this time with a water bottle and his tooth brush. Smiling, you grabbed your brush, plus the toothpaste. You tossed his the paste, and he tossed you the water.

The two of you brushed your teeth in the dark, spitting toothpaste as far out from the car as you felt like venturing. 

Dipper muttered with his toothbrush in his mouth, “we are so gonna die in the woods…”

”Are not,” you said, rinsing your mouth out. 

When you finished, it was camp time. You may not have had a tent, but you had blankets and your pillows. And extra clothes to pad it out. You smiled when you saw Dippers skeptical face through the dark. You popped the trunk, “boom, camping,” you declared. 

He sighed, “We’re dead, goners.”

But he still helped you oh the blankets down on the trunk floor, and pull the seats back to make it… somewhat more like a bed. 

                                        …

The car bed was expectedly not great. But wiggling around you were able to find a comfortable position, curling your legs at the back of the trunk. The windows were steamed from breath and body heat, and you and Dipper were inches apart in the close quarters. 

The surrounding woods were nearly dead silent. You should be thrilled. This is your boyfriend, who you haven’t seen in months. But instead you were… quiet. Maybe anxious. Almost too scared to reach out and touch him. But you mustered the courage. Timidly, you reached your hand out to grab his between you. 

“So,” you started. “Did I miss anything good during the school year?”

You couldn’t see it, but by his little exhale you could tell he smiled. “I think I told you everything interesting,” he said.

You twiddled your thumb around his hand. “Well, clearly not everything, finding out you made me up was new.”

He snickered, “Okay, I told you everything good besides that.”

You smiled, but fell into another silence. Not exactly an awkward one, it was hard to feel too awkward when you were that close, but it wasn’t exactly nice. Every once in a while the tree branches blew in the wind overhead, and what little you could see from the rear view mirror shifted around. You pursed your lips and looked down, though there was little point to that in the dark 

Dipper cut through the quiet. “I was actually kind of nervous to see you again,” he said awkwardly, stumbling over each syllable in that… usual way he does. “I thought it might be easier around my friends, but they… kind of suck.”

You smiled, nodding slightly. “Yeah… I was trying to hype myself up in the car.”

He snorted, “But your always hype.”

”Well… not always,” you said, nestling your head further into the pillow and blanket pile. “Is it really that different being back together?”

Dipper did the same, flipping a pillow over to the cold side, and scooting it the smallest bit closer to you. “I dunno,” he said. “It’s not usually any different.”

”Well, we don’t usually feel awkward and… stuff”

He laughed a little, lifting his hand to cover his mouth. “Speak for yourself… I always do,” he said. “At least with you, that is.”

Of course he did. You grinned. How he was this endearing, you weren’t sure. “Really?” You asked, smirk creeping into your lips. “Widdle ol’ me?”

”Ugh,” he groaned, probably rolling his eyes if you had to guess. “Yeah, widdle ol’ you. It uh, usually takes a couple days to get used to you again,” he admitted. “I don’t know, maybe it’s different now that we’re…” he trailed off. Of course he did. You could almost feel the heat from his blush. 

You smiled, and playfully punched him in the chest with your free hand, and then left it there to linger. More touch. “It’s been weird being long distance,” you said. “Maybe that makes it different. It’s been like, a year since we’ve even been in the same city.”

He nodded, “Yeah, a lot does change. You look kind of different from last summer, it doesn’t always show in the pictures, like-“ he paused, about to reach his hand out to you, you could see in the silhouette, but stopped. “Uh, you head,” he said, tapping his forehead for emphasis, “may I?”

You nodded.

He gently brushed the hair off your forehead, and ghosted his hand over your scar from last summer. “It’s different in person, it’s healed really well,” he said, fingers tracing its edges. You smiled as he did, feeing the callous on his fingertips on the parts that could still feel well. “It kind of looks like a star, actually,” he smiled, “We’re matching,” he said, tapping his own forehead.

Aw shit. A grin made its way onto your lips, and you felt a heat on your cheeks. “A star… and the Big Dipper?” 

He brushed some hair back to cover his birthmark. A star and a constellation. “Yeah, I think so.”

Sighing, you scotched closer to him to close the gap,  trying to keep the comfortable position you found. Closer, like you usually were. “Dip, I think that even if things are a little different, that’s fine as long as I still love you,” you smiled, then hastily added, “Which I somewhat obviously do, but I figured I’d specify in case that wasn’t clear.”

”I- also you that-“ he sputtered, wrapping an arm around you to hold you closer. 

You giggled, “yeah? You’re sticking by that one?”

“I guess so,” he snickered, resting his head against yours. He once against swept the hair from your face, and this time you smiled as his lips met the softer skin of the scar with a little kiss. 

You tried to suppress your grin, but it didn’t work. Fuck. He’s too sweet. You giggled some more, brushing your thumb against his jaw. “Good spot, but I have an improvement, get this,” you said, like you were selling a pitch. 

You utilized your hands to find his face, brushing over his lips with your thumb. Target located. Smiling, maybe still with butterflies, as juvenile as that felt, you brought your face up to his to kiss him. Somehow the first since reuniting. You could feel the smile on his lips as you did, and the small twitch of his fingers on your back where he held you.

First kiss of the new summer. Far from the last, if all went well.  Your mind almost laughed at you. When did things ever go well?

You giggled as he pulled you in for another kiss, and complained about the discomfort of the trunk. He was too tall to employ your strategy of curling into the trunk. 

Things always went well enough. Nobody died, and you had each other and the gang. And a car. You could think of literally nothing else you needed. Gravity Falls was a day away, and it seemed like your scar had healed. Matching stars. 

Chat I finally did it I wrote some fanfic maybe I’m back from hiatus

I’m torn there a lot I wanna do with this fic like use other characters more, or pay off things I mentioned or set up earlier, or even just write random ass episode one shots. Or a backrooms horror story too Angsty to be canon. But I also wanna be done with this and it’s a complete story so I totally could be. I dunno.

Taglist: @phobo-ss @cipheress-to-k-pop @dead-esque

[peppermintsweety]

Hiii since i saw ur requests open i have a request for obey me brothers :>>

So how will the obey me brothers comfort mc after her crush just rejected her

( well i prefer fem mc tbh but if u don't do them u can go with gn :") )

Omg we love a bit for heart break 😍

The brother's comforting MC after rejection.

A/n: this is the first time I wrote in a while so be nice to me please 🥲 this was also kinda rushed because I got lazy especially with the twins! Also I didn't read over my writing so...

Warnings: language, violence, men!!!!

Lucifer

After he got done working he wanted to spend some time with you, that's when he found you crying on the front steps.

His heart swelled seeing you upset and he wasted no time going to comfort you.

He sat down next to you and pulled you into him.

After you calmed down he wiped your tears and placed a hand on your cheek "it hurts me to see you so upset. MC tell me who did this to you" he says softly

" it's stupid.. this guy I was really into rejected me.."

He told you he understood and you shouldn't be ashamed of your feeling.

He rubbed your back until you were ready to go inside.

He would keep an eye on you just to make sure you were okay. He'd want to be the first person to comfort you and the first person you go to for anything. He would try extra hard to make you happy.

Mammon

He was waiting in your room when you got home. The look on your face said it all. You'd been crying.

He flew into action! Pulled you into his arms "MC, what happened?? What are ya crying for?"

You sighed "it's no big deal.. the guy I like rejected me. I'm already over it" you were in fact not over it and it showed.

Mammon was pissed! You were the most amazing person in the three worlds! How could anyone not love you?!

"ya serious?! I can't believe this! You are the full package! How can he not see that!" Mammon went off. He wanted to go find the guy but his focus was on you right now. He sat you down and started thinking of ways to make you feel better. "There there.. how about we steal Lucifer card and go on a shopping spree!"

After attempting to comfort you he left you with Asmodeus as he was going to find the guy! He knew you would be pissed if you hurt him but he didn't care! The only reason the guy made it out untouched is because Lucifer showed up just in time to stop him.

Later he would ask if you were okay often. You'd be the first person he'd go and see in the morning! Not like you weren't already.

Leviathan

You found yourself in Levi's room watching him play games. He kinda felt something was off with you. He thought you were mad at him because you seemed colder.

He found out over a text from his brother's group chat

Asmodeus: hey, Lucifer can you get our douchebag brother? He went to go beat up Mcs crush."

Lucifer: what a headache.

He looked up at you confused "MC, do you know why Mammon would be beating up your crush?"

Seeing your eyebrows twitch made him cringe. You must be super upset at him!

"are you serious?! I can't believe mammon some times!!" Your harsh tone scared him

He realized you were upset and sat you down next to him "MC, What happened if you don't mind me asking.."

You sighed "this guy rejected me so now mammon was going to beat him up." After saying that your face softed into a sad look.

He felt so useless! You were sad and he could do nothing to help

"I'm sorry MC. I wish I could do something but I'm just a useless utaku."

You guys ended up comforting each other until you got tired and went to bed

Satan

He was there and seen the whole thing. He seen the way you looked at him in front of your RAD locker. He watched as you shyly played with the rim of your jacket as he spoke pretty words into your ear, and he seen your face dropped as he rejected you in the most douchebag way he'd ever seen.

Satan seen RED! He wanted no more then to rip him apart in front of everyone, but when his eyes fell on you... His heart aches. The look of pure heart break you have has him pulling you away from the crowded school halls to a empty class room.

He spent no time pulling you into his chest and rubbing your head. He felt as his shirt began to get wet as you sobbed into him.

"Shhh... Shh... I know MC... You don't have to tell me anything... I already know..." He spoke oh so lovingly.

We swayed with you, rocking you so sweetly until he consuld you enough for the two of you to go home. The whole walk home he was holding your hand and making sure you were okay. You guys stop in front of the house of lamentation.

He kissed your hand then your forehead " sorry, darling I have some unfinished business that needs tending. I will be back in less then ten minutes. I promise." He says leaving you on the front steps.

Later he returned to see you've gone somewhere and his phone buzzed.

Asmodeus: hey, Lucifer can you get our douchebag brother? He went to go beat up Mcs crush."

Lucifer: what a headache

Satan laughed to himself

Satan: lol I beat him to it

Asmodeus

He was trying the new skincare products he got online when mammon budge in with MC.

He practically threw MC in his room.

"hey would you watch MC for me?" Mammon said. he looked like he was in a hurry.

"I don't need to watch MC because they aren't a dog! Where are you even going?!" Asmodeus shouted confusedly.

"I'm going to beat up the guy MC likes!" Mam said as he hurried away.

MC groaned and sat on Asmos bed. "So are you going to tell me what that was all about?" Asmo raised his eyebrows as you.

"I got rejected.." you said looking down at your feet.

he couldn't believe what he just heard!!! He knew all about the guy you like! He knew you were going to ask him out today because he was the one who told you to go for it!

"MC!!! Are you serious!!" He shouts jumping up from his seat. "I am so sorry!" He wraps his arms around you tightly. He is all over you, pecking your cheeks with kisses and rubbing your back "you deserve better then him anyways! He was such a douchebag! Speaking of douchebags" he texted the group chat

Asmodeus: Hey, Lucifer can you get our douchebag brother? He went to beat up Mcs crush.

After that he pulled out his get over a guy self care package

He ran you a bath and started moisturizing your face and putting a cute face mask on you. Massaging you back and telling you how amazing you are.

He's making sure you won't focus on a stupid guy and you'd focus on your beautiful self❤️

Later you went into Levi's room

The twins

It was getting late so you eventually left Levi to go to bed. Walking into your bedroom you sighed thinking about the drama you ran into today..

You lay down under your sheets and close your eyes tightly while you try to hold back your tears.

"Mc?" A voice startled you out of your thoughts. You opened your eyes to see belpie all tucked into your blankets.

"oh my god belpie! You scare the living shit out of me! What are you doing here?" You ask as if you didn't want him here.

"sleeping..? beels in here too" belpie points to Beel in the corner awkwardly eating "Hi MC :)"

You sigh "guy I had a day so I'd love if I can get some sleep"

"why do you think we're here." Belpie says pulling you into a cuddle "I heard about what happened and me and Beel wanted to come cheer you up!"

Beelzebub walks up to the two of you and hands you a pizza bagel "want some?" He ask with a cute smile

Beel spent the time feeding you and telling you how much you mean to him and belpie was just talking shit about the guy you like.. to be honest it made you feel better. You fell asleep shortly in their arms

[hijinxensues]

The Cloaking Brooch Dilemma - Part 12

RotTMNT Donatello x OC!AFAB

Synopsis: Donatello considered himself, nay, deemed himself the greatest mind of his generation. He was known for his skills as a scientist, inventor, engineer and was a technological genius. Dare he throw in that he was a damn good brother and held the title of being ¼th ‘Protector of New York City’.

He could barely fathom that he didn’t piece together that the pretty barista he was falling for was simultaneously his gaming buddy (might I add, for the last eight years) and was working for Big Mama.

At this very moment, Donatello was sure of two things in his life. One of them being his life was a joke and the second being that he was fraternizing with the enemy.

All because he decided to run errands whilst donning his cloaking brooch.

Warnings: Aged-Up turtles, fluff, Half-Yokai OC, AFAB OC (does use she/her/they pronouns in writing), swearing

FIRST 

PREV

NEXT 

Ch 12 – Boysenberry

Your eyes scan the conversation on your phone as you lay in bed, still brewing over the disaster date from Hell that happened a few days prior. Huffing annoyedly, you roll over on your back and adjust your shirt roughly, so it doesn’t ride up your back uncomfortably. There’s a wall of text from Donatello before leading into a very brief conversation between the two of you.

Between the ‘I understand’s and online apologies from Donatello and the ‘I need space’ from you, you weren’t quite sure how to move forward with things. The text thread and Discord chats were dead, and while you’re relieved and thankful Donatello has always been nothing but respectful and took things literally to a fault, you’re almost…sad he doesn’t try to reach out.

It felt like a breakup. It hurt and it made you angry. Not only did you have to come to terms with him not having romantic feelings, but you also needed to grieve that you didn’t really have a friend in him either anymore, atleast for the time being. It was still up in the air with next steps, but you were still so hurt and confused.

Trudging through your apartment, the mess had gotten away from you. Between yourself, Usagi and the occasional Leo coming through couch cushions lived on the floor, blankets strewn across any surface and not to mention any type of snack or fast-food container littered your counter tops and coffee table. The dish washer was still broken and it was now not going to get fixed just because you were not on speaking terms with Donatello so you’d have to dip into a paycheque to buy a new one.

Washing dishes were your least favorite chore and thus it was done the least. You made a mental note to ask Leo to do them next time he was over, it was the least he could do for invading your tiny one bedroom apartment. It cost a ton to feed both a big Rabbit-Yokai and an even bigger ‘Mutant Turtle’.

Fluffing out a garbage bag you start to sort out your garbage and compost, your nose wrinkling at the smell of leftover food. You’d spent the last few days vegging out by yourself, crying, watching shitty rom-coms (where the guy does in fact, get the girl, as always) and doing bad karaoke with your blue boys.

Exhaling heavily, you set the garbage bag down in a corner and start doing a half ass clean around your apartment. It looks half decent after an hour, with anything plush in a bin set aside in the bedroom and the dirty dishes stacked in the sink instead of all over the apartment. You light a few candles, a liberty you try to indulge in now given Donatello won’t be coming by for a... very long while, before popping into the bathroom to take a well-deserved shower.

You wipe away the condensation off the mirror and encase your ears and hair in towel atop your head. Fingers itch to pick up your phone and you do, only to be welcomed with no notifications. Rolling your eyes, you ignore the sinking feeling in your gut, “Stupid.” You mutter under your breath as you dry off and place your phone on the counter rougher than you mean to.

Pulling the spare blankets from the closet you give them a quick sniff and cringe, how long had those been sitting in here? They smelt old, but with everything else waiting to be washed you’d have to make do. You pile a few fluffier blankets onto the couch and push it around with your hands to make it into a burrow before submerging into it. Your nose wrinkles at the smell of the blankets and you try your best to squash down the urge to pick out an unkempt blanket from the laundry bin that smelled like Donatello. Everything that smelled like Usagi, smelled slightly like Leo and while it wasn’t unwelcome, it was a change that you weren’t used to yet.

Getting comfortable was not a luxury that was awarded to you as you thrashed inside the blanket burrow. Pulling up the couch cushions, you kneaded at them roughly in a poor attempt to fluff them up and in a flash your eyes light up as your nose catches a whiff of…something. It smelt good, and it was comforting. Through unfocused vision you shift your head as your nose twitches and tries to catch the scent in the air again.

Stuffed between the crevices of the couch was Donatello’s signature purple hoodie.

Mentally you scold yourself at how much you wanted to drown in the scent and grab at it with force pulling it from its confines. Balling it up you fully intend on throwing it across the apartment and while your arm does the motion, your hand does not let go.

Eyes flit to the balcony and then to the rest of your tiny abode as if someone was going to catch you doing something wrong. Your nose is pressed to the soft fabric before you can comprehend what you’re doing, and you inhale so deeply it makes you lightheaded. Fingers clenching into the hoodie, the fabric is gently rubbed against your cheeks. Donatello was very cognizant of the texture of clothing he owned, even all the causal clothing he wore around your apartment was in pristine condition and almost always the softest article of clothing you touched at any given time.

In a moment of weakness, the hoodie makes its way onto your body, sleeves pooling around your wrists and the collar is pulled up to cover half your face above your nose. The satin lining of the hoodie does little to soothe the cacophony of emotions that run between your chest and stomach. Donnie said his clothes were up for grabs and you had explicit permission to wear them, but you felt almost guilty for wearing his clothes and knowing he didn’t like you in the way you liked him. The Donnie that materializes in your thoughts drowns you in his scent clothes, top to bottom, because he likes you. Because he wanted you and the thought shoots straight down.

You jump up at the sound of your phone pinging and you wrestle your way out of the burrow you’ve made. The phone screen lights up and you groan looking at the calendar reminder about a friends birthday party you were meant to go to tonight. You push down the disappointment that it isn’t Donnie. Tears pool at the corners of your eyes out of frustration and you press your palms hard into your eyes to quell the tears, Donatello was meant to help you pick out and tailor an outfit for you for tonight.

You tap the ‘confirm’ button to send to your friend and lay back down going through your mental checklist of what you needed to do if you were going to attend the event. Glancing at the clock it tells you that you had roughly two hours to freshen up, find an outfit in your closet, probably tailor it (you didn’t know how to tailor) and then hop in an Uber.

Begrudgingly your legs kick out and off the couch, paw pads sinking into the plush carpet. A coffee was in order.

--

Braving the winter weather, you make your way over to Rendezvous. The coffee shop was so close you decided Donnie’s hoodie and a pair of fleece lined leggings with boots would be sufficient for your trek, you just hoped to any and all deities you wouldn’t run into him.

A blast of warm air hits you as you enter in the coffee shop and you upnod your coworkers’ working the till and coffee station. You busy yourself by picking around your cuticles as you wait in line, your phone essentially useless to you and you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to not text Donnie given the stress you were under to make it to the event tonight.

Your heart jumps as a green tridactyl hand comes to cover yours to curb your picking, “Fancy seeing you here.” His eyes flit over to your hoodie and his pupils dilate; you supposed purple was his color too.

You snort and face him with a crooked smile and a shrug. “It’s not like I work here or anything, Fearless.”

He looks tired, bags under his eyes, his brows drawn on with not as much care as usual.

He quirks a brow with a small grimace, “Fearless?”                            

Chuckling you nod, “Yeah, my ‘fearless hero’ who escorted me home. Or do you prefer ‘Hero-Boy’ instead? ‘Friendly-Neighborhood Purple Turtle’ is a mouthful and I refuse to call you that while we protect your identity.” Thinking back to your encounter with him in front of the bank, you couldn’t for the life of you what Leo called him. Donathon? No, that’s not even a real name. Was it Jonathon? That seemed more plausible.  

The terrapin in purple takes a solid few seconds musing over his options thoughtfully before nodding, “A bit odd as my brother is often also referred to as ‘Fearless’ as a silly nickname, but it’ll do for now.” You make a mental check in your brain as he confirms he has a brother. Perhaps him and Leo were brothers? You couldn’t assume any Terrapin Yokai was related, you wouldn’t be any better than the people who insisted that you and Usagi were cousins.

The both of you reach the front of the line and you hold a hand up and slap down your card and mischievous glint in your eye, “I got it, you look a little worse for wear.”

“Oh hoh, you’re one to talk.” He eyes you up casually with a playful grin and you’re suddenly self conscious of the messy damp hair tied up on your head along with the too-big hoodie and mis matched socks. Knocking your arm into his roughly you shush him and order what you need to as your co-worker glances between the two of you suggestively. Rolling your eyes, you do a tiny shake of your head to your co-worker to get them to bite their tongue over the dynamic between the two of you.

“This is a weird question,” the coffee shop was busier than it usually was and the ambient sounds of customers was comforting, “do you know how to tailor?”

Fearless nods, slowly. “I do, mutant turtles do not often fit into human clothes and thus a lot of tailoring does need to happen.” He nods his thanks to your co-worker before picking up both latte’s and handing you one. A blush creeps up your neck as you linger a little longer at his hands than you mean to, the paper cup looked so tiny in comparison.

“Second weird question, I have an event tonight and I probably don’t have anything that’s ready to wear. But I might be able to put something together, the catch is-“

“You’d need someone to tailor so it’d fit.”

“That big brain of yours is working hard, Fearless.”

He laughs allowing you a peak at his pointed canines you’ve never noticed before, “Inviting me into your home and you haven’t even taken me out to dinner.”

Scowling, your cheeks are painted pink. The smile he tosses you reaches his eyes, and he doesn’t look ragged anymore. You don’t recall him ever being this brazen with you before, and this version of him was much more tolerable than the version you had run into with your rabbit ears equipped. You have you avert your gaze, so you don’t combust and head to the front door, “I asked you for help, not for your hand in marriage.” He snorts and follows close behind you, “I had a friend who was meant to swing by but…” your free hand waves absentmindedly, “it fell through. They uh, left me hanging, so to speak.”

Fearless hums and opens the door allowing you to pass through first and you shiver at the temperature change, “Sounds like they’re an idiot. I’d be happy to assist you. This is exactly what your Friendly-Neighborhood Purple Turtle does.”

--

“You’ll have to excuse the mess, I half-way cleaned earlier but uh, I’m going through it right now.” Sheepishly you shrug and open the door and kick your boots off. Quickly you make your way to the balcony and open the door to allow some circulation into the tiny apartment, then haphazard clean anything out of place and kick the garbage bag you were using farther off to the side and tie it closed. “Sorry, Fearless. I’m usually better than this.”

He waves his hand casually, “Worry not, Violet! We all ‘go through it’ as you say.” He makes air quotes with a single digit on both hands. If he’s disgusted by your dinky little apartment, he doesn’t show it.

“Right, well, shoes off,” a pause, “Nevermind. Make yourself at home was where I was going with that.”

Fearless moves through your space like he owns it. He picks a coaster off the top o your fridge and pops a coffee pod into the Keurig before refilling the water and pressing start. He opens the cabinet under your sink to dispose of the old coffee pod and washes his hands, “Let’s get started, shall we?”

“How’d you know where the coasters were? No one has ever successfully guessed where I keep them.”

There’s the most miniscule pause before he shrugs casually, “I’m a ninja, Violet. Always expect the unexpected.”

You give him an incredulous look and make your way to the bedroom, “Sure? I don’t really know how that answers my question?” You catalogue this dialogue and make sure to bring it up at Girls Night tomorrow.

Fearless claps his hands twice, “Chop, chop, s’il vous plait! Off to the bedroom with you.” He allows you to enter first and presses a hand to the small of your back, his hand almost fully encompassing your waist due to its size, as he makes his way around you.

You pray he doesn’t catch your shiver as his fingertips leave you, “Okay, so uh, I had a few options for tonight. The event is like, semi-formal? I have a few dresses, but I think they might be a bit too small. I’m not sure if there’s enough fabric to really let them out and re-do the seams? I also have a skirt and a top option.” You pull out various clothes and toss them onto your unmade bed, “Yeah, sorry the bedroom is usually in better shape too but yenno.”

“Let’s see. May I also have a look in your closet?”

Nodding you step aside, “I’ve got all my kinda formal stuff in here, go crazy.”

Fearless is meticulous in looking through your wardrobe. He pinches and rolls fabric in between his fingers and holds articles of clothing in front of him to fully examine in silence before placing them back thoughtfully. You watch him from your perch on the bed and catch his nostrils flare for a moment then stop. Weird, maybe you needed to toss some mothballs in there if your wardrobe smelled like mildew or something.

He turns and looks at the selection you haphazardly put together on the bed, “This red one seems adequate. The color would be appropriate for an evening cocktail type of event. What’s wrong with this one?” It’s a tight fitting, midi length dress with full length sleeves and a collar that would rest right under your neck. The top fabric is sheer and the under fabric stopped just a few inches before the sheer fabric did to give the dress a bit more depth.

He pulls at the fabric to test its stretchiness and holds it out in front of you pinching where the shoulders would be. “Nothing, it’s too tight.”

“Where?”

“Er, in the hip area.”

The rabbit DNA was a blessing and a curse.

There’s a very light blush across his snout you think is adorable as he clears his throat, “Right,” he moves and sits on the edge of the bed stiffly, “Give me a moment.” He straightens out the dress and drapes it over his lap delicately, then starting from the collar of his hoodie, he pulls up and over. You barely register that his goggles get jostled and that he slightly rearranges his wrappings in the tussle with his hoodie as his plastron being revealed inch by inch is much prettier view. He still had his black wrappings and grey sweats equipped so he wasn’t naked by definition but it sure as hell felt like he was. His hand is on his own shoulder, and he rotates his arm from the shoulder to relax it, his bicep flexing as he wiggles his fingers and takes hold of the dress again.

God, what is wrong with you? One minute you’re crying over Donnie and the next you’re thirsting over a Yokai that’s conveniently in your bedroom.

Mechanical arms pop out of his tech shell and procure a small sewing kit and he gets to work. The bed dips behind him and you give him adequate space to work as you hover over his shoulder to watch. You’d never been this close before and you take full advantage of unabashedly staring as his focus is pulled elsewhere, his tongue poking out as he does the task at hand.

Freckles peppered the pebbled skin on his shoulders, his elbows also a slightly darker shade of green.  Rectangle purple markings grace his biceps, they match the ones on his thighs you’ve seen before. His mask covered most of them, but you just barely get a peak at the light smattering of freckles that went over his snout, you bet he was gorgeous in the sun. Three thin stripes grow downwards and over the expanse of his throat, and with you this close you can tell they taper off with only a light online leading to the edge of the top of his plastron.  

“Your stripes still growing in?” you whisper not to disturb him, your chin dangerously close to resting on the shoulder plate of his battle shell as you watch his fingers deftly seam rip the dress.

The feeling of pride surges through you as he tries to hide his shiver by clearing his throat. “Yes, as I get older, my stripes being more prominent. It seems they develop and elongate downwards, the ones on here,” he points to this throat and your eyes follow the curve of it, “are still coming in.”

The silence is easy and your hip hurts from sitting so still on it as to not disturb Fearless’ work. You watch him tie off the final knot and he brings the excess thread to his mouth and cuts it with his canine. The act causes a flutter down below and you stand up to cover up squeezing your thighs together. You were drowning in very potent Donnie musk from the hoodie you wore and had a cute boy in your bed. This was natural. Your brain and body were getting mixed signals from all the stimuli. That was all! It wasn’t like you wanted to rip his wrappings off and lick up his stripes, no sir. You did not want that.

“Here you are, try it on. I’ll put together something as a back up as you go change.”

Nodding, you pass in front of him and head the bathroom rather quickly trying to still your racing heart. You get dressed easy enough and do a few squats and jumping jacks in the privacy of your own bathroom to test the strength of his work, you didn’t need a wardrobe malfunction while out tonight and with no one to call to help. You use one hand to run through your hair and the other to scour the inside of the side bathroom drawer, “Found it.” Usagi had gifted you a micro cloaking brooch disguised as a hair pin, the gem in the middle was clear and resembled an opal. You slick back one side of your hair and use the pin to keep it there, then fasten it with a few other pins to ensure no disasters would come of tonight.

There’s a few soft knocks at the door, “I’m merely checking in on you, it’s taking a minute. Does it not fit?”

“Er, no! I mean, yes, it does fit. It fits perfectly! Give me a sec.”

“Alright, I’ll head back to your room. I have a back up outfit in case you deem this one not appropriate for the event.”

The dress fit too well; it looked like you were poured into it. It was so form fitting you forego the underwear, you’re lucky the fabric was thick enough to hide the shape of your bra under it. The silky fabric hugged your soft, round curves and didn’t pile or rouche around your torso or hips anymore leaving a clean curve the eye could follow. You had a bit of pudge on your stomach and your “hip dips” were prominent, but you couldn’t be bothered, you spent years feeling bad for having a body and tonight was not the time for self doubt in such a pretty red dress.

“Hoh boy.” Looking at yourself one more time in the mirror you gave yourself a tiny pep talk and exited the bathroom. The bedroom door was closed and you very quietly paced back and forth as you talked yourself up and enter.

His eyes are down cast looking at the clothing options on the bed, “I’m thinking this midi skirt, with this top, if you’re not a fan of the dress. I also took the liberty on sewing up a hole on this pair of jeans I found, it was just above your tail bone, how did you manage that by the way? It’s a very odd place to need repairs. I also noticed your dish washer is broken, the main indicator being many dishes in the sink. It was an easy repair; I hope you don’t mind but why buy a new one when I could just fix the one you have? I added a bit of ‘Fearless-Flair’ to it, I haven’t tested it out but I’m sure it’ll work. I’ve programmed it to load itself so you don’t have to. One less thing for you to worry about, the modern age of technology is convenience! Forgive me, I’m rambling, anyways-“

The way he stares at you makes you think he wants to take a bite, or possibly just devour you whole. You catch his eyeline following up the curve of your hips and then back down doing a onceover. Heat raced up your thighs and behind it chased the feeling of guilt as your foggy brain latches onto the thought of Donnie. Were you a bad person for feeling like this about Fearless as your heart still belonged to someone else? ‘Someone else that didn’t like you,’ your mind chastised.

It's barely a mumble but your ears pick it up anyway, “You look pretty.” The statement is so soft in comparison to the intensity his eyes held.

“Pretty?” you repeat after him curling into yourself slightly, your fingers clasped in front of you. You hope the pink that is affixed to your cheeks looked pretty against the red dress.

He must mistake your shyness for being uncomfortable and he spring into action waving his arms out in front of him, “P-pretty!? Did I say that?”, he trips over his own feet as he takes a step forward and catches himself on your dresser effectively knocking over everything on the top of it, “What I meant to say,” he rights himself and tumbles next to you slamming himself against the wall next to you with an overly nervous laugh, “was that you looked pretty shitty!”

It starts off slow with a few snickers and before you know it you’re doubled over, hands over your midsection guffawing. Taking a few deep inhales to steady your breathing, you wipe at the corners of your eyes, “Oh god, Fearless, you’re something else!” a few more giggles sputter out as you catch your breath.

Fearless’ shoulders relax and a relaxed grin takes over his features that you return in earnest.

He opens his mouth to say something but you both jump as you hear the front door click, “Oh shit, that’s probably my friend! Oh my god, he can’t see you or I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

“Letty? Babes, are you home?”

Pressing your ear to the door you hear his foot steps quickly approaching, “Fuck, okay he’s coming in here, just- ugh, don’t say anything!”

“Who!? Why are they coming in here!?” he’s crouched at your eye level.

“I don’t fucking know! Just- just, shhh!” Fearless tenses as you put your hand over his mouth effectively silencing him. There is an attempt to move your hand from his mouth, his brows furrowed annoyed with the course of action, but with your free hand you press on his plastron keeping him in place, “Don’t move and stay quiet.” There’s a pointed eye roll but a single nod in confirmation he was going to play along, “Good boy.”

That garners a reaction you weren’t ready for as you feel a brief but deep rumble from his chest under your hand. His eyes are wide, and the rumble stops as the doorknob twists.

“Hey, oh my gosh! You look amazing, it’s Yoru’s event tonight, right? Also, do you know where my phone charger is?” Usagi tries to enter, and you stop him with your foot, “Uh, living room!”

Usagi pauses and looks you up and down, “What’s going on? You okay?” his arms are quickly crossed over his chest suspiciously and you catch his ears swivel to pick up any sound.

Nodding quickly, “Yeah, I’m just uh, super nervous for tonight! You know what I’m like and you’re not even coming to hang out with me! Phew, my social anxiety is through the roof!”

This seems to satisfy him as he stops trying to enter your bedroom, “Oh, well, I’m sorry, did you want me to cancel on-?”

“No, no! You’re all good, I’ll be totally fine.”

There’s a pause and you continue on, “So, the phone charger, it’s plugged in by the TV, if you wanted to grab it. I still need to finish up my makeup before heading out, so… you can let yourself out.”

If Usagi knows you’re lying, which he probably does, he takes mercy on you and strolls to grab the charger as you stand in your doorway, unmoving.

“So, any news on the Donnie situation?” Usagi roots around and unplugs his charger.

Your fingers twitch and you scowl, of course he’d bring this up right now, “Uh, nope! Radio silence, er, which is exactly what I asked for.”

“You still miss him?”

Head in your free hand you wince and flounder for words as the tightness in your chest hits you full force and Usagi continues, “It’s okay if you do, I think it’d be weird if you didn’t. I think it’ll work itself out eventually, but yenno, I think you’ll be okay.” Usagi is kind enough to tidy your couch fixating his eyes everywhere but at you, knowing eye contact made things more difficult.

The dress suddenly feels too restricting and you’re breathing heavy now, out of your nose, finding words is more difficult as the seconds pass and if you wait any longer to answer Usagi would for sure know that you’re hiding something.

Get it together, get it together, breathe, breathe, breathe.

The terrapins hand encompasses your own and moves it to his chest, placing your palm to his plastron and he holds firmly, applying gentle pressure. Your hand is entirely hidden by his resting one and his thumb rubs over the skin on the back of your hand. His plastron vibrates, soft and reassuring. It was the rumble again, did turtles purr? Didn’t Usagi say something about Leo purring? It was called churring, you recall.

Your breathing steadies and your eyes find his and smile sheepishly, “I think I’ll be okay, too.” There’s something familiar about the way his lips curve upwards and the adorable tilt of his head, but you can’t place it. He does another firm squeeze to your hand as he stops churring.

Usagi claps and you almost give yourself whiplash looking towards him, “I’ll be going then, got what I need.” He holds up the charger and plug in attachment. Usagi squints in your direction but does head over to the door, “Text when you get there safe tonight, I’ll be at my place tonight.”

Deeming it safe you take back your hand and walk forward to tail behind the rabbit and close the door behind him, “Will do, love you!”

Your back rests against the front door, “They’re gone, Fearless. You can come out.”

He pops out with his sweater equipped while you pull a cold round citrus fruit out of the fridge. “Any allergies?”

He shakes his head and leans on the counter, chin in his hand as he watches your fingers peel the fruit expertly.

Palm up, you out stretch your hand and wiggle your fingers. He thankfully catches what you’re saying and places his hand out, palm up as well. “Thanks for tonight. Like, for everything.” The fruit is peeled fully, even taking care to remove the white membrane. It’s gently pressed into his hand, your free hand cups the back of his and you squeeze before letting go.

“It’s a-“

“Clementine.” He finishes off for you.

Nodding you toss the peel in the compost bin, “Yeah! Fun fact, did you know it’s a hybrid between a willowleaf mandarin orange and a sweet orange? Hopefully the one I gave you is sweet.”

He cradles the tiny orange fruit in both hands and turns so you can only see his side profile as he stares down at his hands, his eyes shimmering. Is he about to cry?

Fearless conceals a sniffle poorly with a cough and turns his back to you while wiping at his eyes before popping a segment in his mouth and sliding over half the fruit to you, back still turned. “It’s sweet, have some.”

The segment bursts in your mouth and you hum appreciatively at the flavor. He’s oddly neutral and you think he needs some time to himself, for whatever reason. Glancing at the clock you make your way to the bathroom again, “I’ve gotta keep getting ready, but seriously, thank you again. If you’re comfortable, you can leave through the front door. Or alternatively the patio.”

He says nothing as you pass him by and shut the door behind you.

A few minutes pass and you don’t hear him moving about the space. You exit once your makeup is done and your apartment is empty again, the patio door closed with no sign of Fearless.

Huh, you really didn’t know what to think of that guy, however you do decide to keep Fearless your little secret. For now, atleast.

--

TIME SKIP, Next day, evening

The sound of the vacuum mixed with the tunes in the background from your Spotify playlist is enough stimuli for your brain to keep you going as you prepare snack bowls for you and your friends. Usagi was ever so graciously manning the vacuum around the tiny space, lifting one end of the couch up with one hand, vacuuming underneath it then placing the couch back in its’ place.

Your counter tops were full of food ranging with popcorn, candys, chocolate and chips on one side and the other side consisting of sprinkles, any type of confectionary type toppings and a waffle machine. Both pancake and waffle batter was at the ready in the fridge along with home made whip cream. Breakfast for dinner was always a favorite of yours and the fluttering, giddy feeling in your chest shone brightly at being able to indulge in this with your friends.

“I think I’m all done on my end.” Usagi coils the cord around the machine and stows it away before hooking up the Nintendo Switch to your television and also plug in numerous phone chargers on an outlet near him. “Perfect, now no one needs to fight over a phone charge.”

You giggle and flap your hands in front of you, “I’m dizzy, I’m so excited!” You take another peak at your phone and watch the time change before reaching for your brooch on instinct. A furry hand catches your wrist, “You’re good, you don’t need it with them.” Stowing it away in your junk drawer you unlock your front door in preparation then jog over to the balcony door to unlock that as well, just in case Leo were to pop in unannounced as he usually does.

“They’re here! I’ll go get them.” Usagi feet does a few excited thumps on the carpet before prancing out of the suite and down the stairs to grab them.

Absentmindedly, you push around the bowls and rearrange them in the time it takes for Usagi to come back up with Sunita.

April squeals with her arms outstretched and makes a grabby hand motion at you, “C’mere you! How’re you doing, girl!”

You wrap your arms around her and hold on tightly as you both sway side to side, “Good, good! Well, yenno, been better but good now!” April gives good hugs, you decide. They’re firm and she digs here fingers slightly into your shoulder before rubbing your back.

Sunita is close behind April and wraps her arms around the two of you and holds tight, “I can’t believe the plans made it out of the group chat!”

The click of the door signals Usagi’s in and he pats each of you on the head before rubbing his furry hands together, “Let’s get situated with food and someone pick something to put on the tv to ignore. So something mildly entertaining but maybe something we’ve all seen?”

Sunita does a two-finger salute and pops a handful of candies in her mouth before making her way over to your living room to scroll through your streaming services.

Between the three of you in your very tiny kitchen, you get the waffle iron and toasty pan going on your stovetop and you begin to ladle in the batter.

“Got some tunes going! Couldn’t pick anything on a streaming service.” Sunita grooves her way to the kitchen and leans on the counter, “How’s Cass, Apes?”

“Who’s Cass?” the buttery pancake melts in your mouth, “Oh shit, this is really good!” Usagi flicks his wrist and tucks a pretend strand of hair behind his ear, “Pfft, thanks,” a goofy grin graces his features.

“My girlfriend!”

“Oh, Apes, why didn’t y’all say anything? We should’ve invited them!” you explain and pull a waffle off the iron and let it fall onto a plate to save your fingertips.

April shakes her head casually and polishes off the marshmallow bowl, “She’s busy at work tonight!” she flicks her wrist at you to signal an ‘it’s all good’, “next time. She’s a bit intense, so consider yourself ready for next time.”

“I don’t know what that means but fair enough, thank you.”

Usagi polishes off a pancake and sprays whip cream in his mouth straight from the can, “Yeah, that’s definitely the truth. She is intense.” He shrugs and smiles playfully at April, “Like, in a good way.”

April rolls her eyes at him casually and pushes her red frames up higher on her nose, “First things first, I love your digs, babe!” April saunters around your cozy apartment, walls covered in sage green. An accent wall with abstract shapes and paint strokes in a soft lavender that could almost be a grey. There were a few floating shelves that were sporadically placed filling the emptiness of the walls that had various trinkets, baubles, and photo frames.

April rubs the bottoms of her feet on the plush rug encompassing most of the square footage in the main area in the living room, “Ooo, this is nice! No offense or anything, but aren’t you just a barista?”

You guffaw and make your way over to her and drape yourself over the back of the sofa, “I work a second job that pays way too much, and this apartment is technically a ‘hand me down’ from my late-dad, so I pay the strata fee but the suite itself is paid off.”

“Lucky rabbit!” Sunita exclaims from her position in the kitchen.

You giggle and nod, “You got that right.”

“Is it just you then?” April prompts. You shake your head and draw shapes on the couch cushion, “Nah, I’ve got my mom. She lives out of town, but I do see her occasionally.”

Sunita picks up a face down photo frame hidden behind another propped up frame, “Awee, you two are too cute!” she holds the frame as if to show a classroom of kids something and the three of you peak over at it. April coos and takes the frame delicately from Sunita.

You snort, only mildly embarrassed as you recall the photo. It’s a photo of a much younger version of you and Usagi, your faces both round and youthful, the tufts of fur on his cheeks and his fringe much longer it needs to be swept backwards. Your stark white hair is messily piled on the top of your head, your rabbit ears lazily positioned downwards to showcase the carefree nature of the photo. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders and both your cheeks are squished against each others making the photo-you wink. Your free hand closest to him finds Usagi’s cheek and cups it aiding in his cheek squishing yours and your other hand is posed in a peace sign. Your tongue pokes out of your boyish grin and Usagi matches the energy with a wolfish grin.

“It’s the first photo I took with my bunny ears out, yenno after my mutation. We look like twins, if you can get past the fact that I guess I’m mostly human.” You chuckle and stare fondly at the photo. You didn’t know where you’d be without him.

“I’m so cute!” Usagi grins, “I remember when my bangs were that long, gee. Why didn’t you tell me to cut them, dude? I thought we were friends!”

“You’re literally so dramatic, shut up! You’re just like Leo. That was a look back in the day, that was the trend!”

“Leo?” April quirks a brow and places the photo frame back up.

There’s an awkward pause as you search Usagi’s eyes, feeling the tense air around you. You didn’t mean to out him having a boyfriend.

“Oh, he’s just someone I’m seeing! I’m keeping it on the down low, he has a big family and we’re trying to enjoy each others time before we inevitably become the talk of the town. We’re still really in the beginning stages, if you get me.”

You nod quickly and mouth ‘sorry’ at him while you’ve got his gaze on you. Usagi does a small shrug and a smile to let you know you’re off the hook and only then is when you relax.

April nods understandingly, “I gotcha, happy to hear about him when you’re ready.” She winks and puts the frame face down where it was, “Why was this face down anyways?”

You clap and jump into action, “Perfect segue, April! To answer your question and to finally address what has been going on with that mystery guy, let me get into it because I have a physical portion of this presentation in the form of an investigation cork board.”

Sunita stares blankly, “An investigation…cork board?”

“I haven’t seen this magical cork board you’ve put together-“ Usagi starts and then is interrupted, “Yes, because I did it in the dead of night after Yoru’s party.”

Usagi starts up again, “Okay, thank you. I think she means like in that meme? With the guy in front of a cork board with clues pinned in it and the red string tying together evidence?”

“The one where the guy looks entirely manic?” April asks deadpan, her hand already making its way to her forehead to rub at her temples.

You shoo April and Sunita on the couch like you’re corralling sheep until they flop onto the couch, “Exactly! I have prepared tirelessly to have this done for you today.” You push the bridge of your glasses farther up your nose and April catches a mischievous glint in your lenses before pulling a cat laser pointer off a shelf and hold your hands behind your back ready to start your lecture.

“Do you have a cat?” Sunita squints and you shake your head, “No, I just like to have things. Anyways-“

You recount the events over the last half a year, dipping into the necessary details of the alias’ of Othello Von Ryan and Bootyyyshaker9000 (earning a very wide eyed stare from April and Sunita which you equated to the nature of the odd username, Bootyyyshaker9000 really did it for people), going into the semi-reveal, filling in tiny details here and there in terms of nuance and things you didn’t deem as important but wanted to share, your feelings you weren’t sure what to do with, the bank incident (omitting Leo, to give Usagi a privacy shield), the infamous ‘Albearto Date from Hell’ and you spilled a bit about Fearless but didn’t include what happened the night before.

“And so that’s why that photo frame is face down, Donnie doesn’t know I’m part Yokai. Now that I’m thinking of it, not many people do and that’s also why I have the frame down, not just because of him. I do have a life outside of thinking of him.” You ramble on and hold a hand up, “I know we’ve got questions but you gotta give me two seconds to pull out my presentation!”

Scrambling to the bedroom, you slam the door open, and wheel out a large cork board with pinned with various photos of Donnie and Fearless (both taken from the security camera at Rendezvous then printed out at the library), post it notes with haphazard writing and red strings connecting the various theories you had connecting the two of them.

“Oh wow, Sunita! Look at this!” April nudges her elbow hard into her friends’ ribs and Sunita coughs and catches herself from doubling over, “Oh, I am looking! I am looking with my eyes. I am seeing exactly what you’re seeing!”

“Right! So, we’re all seeing it!” you exclaim happily paired with excited flappy hands.

“Oh, okay, so you both also think he’s the same bitch? I mean, they both wear like the exact same shade of purple.” Usagi tags into the conversation, licking the whip cream off his milkshake.

The exclamation of ‘no!’ and ‘it can’t be!’ is so loud it makes you jump and almost makes you a tad suspicious. April scrambles to her feet and slams face first into the cork board and you flail to catch her and board from falling over completely. “Wuh- April!”

“They can’t be the same person,” she fumbles over her words while looking over the photos, “Because, because!”

“Because well, there isn’t any solid proof right? This is all speculation!” Sunita fans her hands out to create an imaginary rainbow in front of her. April nods and looks over the post it notes, “Okay… uh, “Donatello” has four brothers okay… that’s confirmed.” she points to some green writing beside an obnoxious check mark. Her eyes follow the red string to a blurry photo clearly taken off of a Reddit post about the infamous Yokais who saved NYC, “Okay and there’s….four of those vigilante Yokai. These don’t even go together! Trust me, I’m going to school for journalism.”

“Wait, so the only reason I out those two together is because I think the color-coded vigilante are like, a team! There’s four of them and….Donnie’s one of four brothers. Okay, I guess that one is a reach, but still!” You shrug sheepishly and change queue up the next playlist on the television. “Side note, if you’re in school for journalism, you’d be eating this up! Not to like, expose them but to crack the case! You’re supposed to live for this.”

“And the four of them order take out from Tios’! So, I guess if they were the same person, this would check out. It’s also not unheard of Yokai’s using cloaking brooches, literally Letty is one of them.” Usagi points out and comes up next to the board. You nod along in agreeance, “On top of that, Donnie does know what ‘Run of the Mill’ is, they’ve done take out there before! The Yokai vigilantes and Donnie and his brothers both frequent this spot.”

“That’s not much of a clue though, Huesos’ is one of the most, if not, the most popular Hidden City restaurant there is, aside from anything Grand Nexus franchise related. Statistically, it’s reasonable for them to be different people and both frequent the same joint.” April points out nonchalantly, eyes fixated on the board combing through the photos and writing.

“You think his name is Jonathon?” Sunita points to another post-it note swinging the conversation in a different way.

The post it in question had the word ‘Donathon?’, then underneath it ‘Jonathon? MORE LIKELY’, and then underneath that ‘Fearless’.

“I overheard one of them call him ‘Donathon’, maybe? It’s barely popularized, I checked Google. So, ‘Jonathon’ is probably much more likely. He,” pointing to the turtle Yokai, “did refuse to give me his name when he walked me home one night, under the guise of keeping his secret identity. I just call him ‘Fearless’, it’s a play on words for like, ‘fearless hero’- anyways, it’s tacky. I need everyone to keep their thoughts to themselves, okay.” Muttering under your breath you fight the urge to cross out the silly nickname yourself to avoid the laughs. You consider yourself lucky no one bats an eye at your embarrassment while you busy yourself in the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea.

“It totally makes sense if Donnie and Fearless are the same person that ‘Fearless’ wouldn’t want to give you his actual name since then he’d out himself as Donnie!” Usagi points out.

“Okay, well why would he lie about being a mutant? That doesn’t make sense.” April prods.  

Groaning you run your palms over your face, “How would I know!? I wouldn’t put it past him at this point because he was super against us ever meeting in person, which is a point in the direction of ‘he’s a Yokai in disguise’.”

“The purple thing isn’t a clue either, have you guys ever heard of The Purple Dragons? They also wear this shade of purple exactly. It could just be a really popular color. Maybe it’s this years Pantone color? I’d probably dispute this clue too.” Sunita rubs her chin thoughtfully and squints at the board.

Usagi makes his way towards you and with his back facing your friends and he lifts his hand in front of his chest and does a thumbs up. Your eye flicker over to April and Sunita and ensure they’re still preoccupied, and you give him one back and it cues him to start signing.

‘A bit sus, they think every clue is wrong’

‘Agree, maybe she knows them? Keeping their identities secret.’

Usagi is beside you and quirks his brow at you, “So, do either of you think any of the clues on there point to them being the same person? Or are you going to keep protecting him?” Your eyes widen and you nudge him with your elbow, and you thought you were the spicy one.

“We’re not ‘protecting’ anyone, if we’re going to accuse someone two people of being the same person, the evidence needs to be rock solid.” April retorts back earnestly and shares a glance with Sunita that you can’t quite place the intention behind.

“Fearless was here the other night because I needed alterations for an outfit since I was going out,”

“I knew someone was here!” Usagi shoves you hard and gently smacks the back of your head.

“Yeah, okay! Anyways, he was here. And he walked around my apartment like he’d already been here. He picked a coaster off the top of my fridge, the most ridiculous place to keep them, and mind you, no one has ever come close to guessing where they are coming in here the first time. Explain that?” crossing your arms over your chest you make your way over to the fridge, then pick up your stack of coasters.

“He looks pretty tall from these photos, I think? If he’s as tall as Usagi, he probably was able to see it. And he’s a ninja!” Sunita points out stubbornly.

“He fixed my dishwasher and I didn’t even mention to him that it was broken. But I did mention it to Donnie a few weeks back. He did mention he noticed there were dishes everywhere so he took it upon himself to fix it but, seriously! That’s still weird, right!?” you felt like you were grasping at straws, you look to Usagi, “The night of the date, he kept disappearing then reappearing, and his clothes we’re always messed up. Like he kept getting undressed and re-dressed or something. That’s some Superman-type shit, don’t you think!?”

“Yeah! I mean, if he is a hero, it would make sense that maybe he was ‘on duty’ or something?” Usagi points out heatedly, his ears twitched as he narrowed his eyes at the pair across the room. The tension in the air had gone stale and the sugary sweet food you’d been eating sat heavy in your gut. Maybe this was a bad idea? You’d already hallucinated that Donnie liked you, it was entirely possible you had also made up this whole thing about the two of them being the same person.

“He might’ve been meeting with someone else?” Sunita suggested with a weary shrug as she looked over at April who opened her mouth a few times and closed it, “Uh yeah! M-maybe another girl or?” her expression is wide eyed, and she grimaces next before continuing, “No, wait! Uh, like in a friendly way! Not like sexy-friendly, like, just regular friendly!”

The statement knocks the wind out of you, and you’re unprepared for how hard your lungs grasp for oxygen. You never considered it. He wouldn’t do that to you. Would he?

“Ah, okay, time-out, this completely derailed itself.” Usagi pressed his fingers firmly into your back and rubs to ground you but it does little to your reeling mind as memories flood behind your eyes as you try and replay any and all of them, and Donnie’s been consistently inconsistent, with many things. The option of him being there for someone else was now on the table.

Doubt sowed itself deep within your bones, you were now extremely uncertain of Donnie and if your theory was even plausible that Fearless and him were the same person. Should you award Fearless with kindness at this point if you were to run into him again? You couldn’t shake the familiarity of Fearless but you supposed there wasn’t much basis to your ‘evidence’ aside from coincidences thus far.

You don’t know when April crosses into the kitchen and a feather light touch finds your shoulder, “I’m sure Donnie is a great guy, and he wouldn’t do something like that to you. I just got ahead of myself, I’m sorry. I’m a skeptic at heart… journalism and everything.” She finished lamely but you can hear the remorse in her voice, every word laced with guilt and concern.

Usagi pulls you closer to him and that is effective in having April let up on your shoulder. She reads the social cue and takes a step back. Before she can retreat too far, you link arms with her, “Thanks April, I know you’re just looking out for me. And you’re right, we need more solid evidence before we accuse them of being the same person. I feel like there’s a lot to comb over… we can rehash another night?” Usagi’s grip is still tight, and you can tell by the flex of his fingers he wants to pull you away from April and you give him a few light taps on his person and he relaxes slightly.

“Let’s rehash next time.” Sunita says encouragingly. You don’t know when she’s made it over to you but she rests her chin on your shoulder so it’s nestle between yours and Aprils. Nodding you untangle your limbs and take a sip of cold tea, it was unsatisfying and bitter.

“Well!”, April claps her hands once with finality, “saw you have a Switch, are we playing Smash or what?”

There’s more chatter and Usagi gives your side a squeeze before heading over to the television. The pit in your stomach hadn’t gone away, and the person you wanted comfort from was also the reason the pit exist in the first place.

Feet carry you to the living room and you plop yourself behind Usagi, your legs circling his and you rest your cheek against him. The view is mostly obscured but you can make out the tiny characters fighting over his shoulder and you feel a gentle purr reverberate through your chest, warmth flooding your senses.

“Up for a round?” Sunita holds out the controller for you with a tentative smile. Snorting you snatch it from her with a playful glare, “I’m going to beat your ass, babe.”

Usagi laughs and it’s familiar and soothing and he smells a bit like Leo, but he’s still him and you suppose that’s all the comfort you could wish for right now.

--

TBC

A/N : sorry for the long awaited update! i needed to sort out how this fic was going to end with its reveal etc and so it took me a bit longer just so i could TRY and avoid plot holes with the upcoming next few chapters (: i do have the next one ready and i’ll be putting it in queue to upload in about 1-2 weeks! <3 please enjoy!!

taglist:  @maribatshipper @goldenpanda16 @moonlightmarauder​ @samilucas67

[gokartkid]

max/daniel succession au ficlet under the cut, written like half on my phone for funsies 😵‍💫

“All I wanted,” Max is throwing one of those, fucking, stress ping pong balls at the wall and catching it over and over, “was to-“ throw “-present my plan-“ catch “-and have people agree with me. But that is, of course-” throw “-too fucking hard for some people at this company.”

Catch.

Daniel nods, placating, half his attention on the phone in his hand. 

“Yeah mate, yeah, rough, listen, you should get in on this thing that Charles texted the group chat about.”

Max scoffs, and sends the ping pong ball one last time flying into the wall. He turns and looks at Daniel, crosses his arms. It makes his suit bunch up awkwardly around the shoulders, even though he had it specially tailored.

“I don’t want to go to anything that, that Charles is organising.” 

“Come on Maxy,” Daniel wiggles the phone encouragingly, “it’s not so bad. You know all these guys anyway from all your stupid business bros events.”

Max sighs, then puts on that voice he puts on when he thinks that Daniel isn’t understanding him properly.

“Of course I know them Daniel but I don’t like them, and-“ his ears are reddening, “Pierre last time. He thought buying the startup was a bullshit idea.” 

Max has a tendency, when he really gives a shit about something, to then give too much weight into people’s thoughts about it. Any other time and you’d think he was a bull in a china shop for how much he cared about public opinion. 

Daniel prefers the bull.

“And what, you think Christian and Helmut are going to give a shit about what an entry level employee thinks?” He grabs an apple off of the decorative bowl on Max’s desk, crunches into it between sentences, “listen, you’re gonna get shit on when you put new ideas on the table. That’s just what’s gonna happen, and you kinda have to-“ crunch “deal.”

Working for a media company when half the world seemed to be chanting for the death of traditional media, was making the general atmosphere a bit fucked around the office. Charles was on some new-age social media kick and trying to get everyone into it as if every mum and their fortnite playing kid wasn’t sick of hearing about how social media was the new way to get information. 

Fake information, but that would be throwing stones from their big shiny 50 storey glass house. 

Max was tracing around a ring of condensation on his desk, his long, strange fingers pushing the droplets into shape. His mouth, too big and pink on his face was moving twitchily, tongue flicking out to lick his lips. He’s so explosive, that it sometimes made Daniel forget how insular he could be.

He remembers Max as a rookie coming into the office, trailing behind his dad like some weird too-big shadow. He’d been blustering around then too, puffing up his chest and pretending he was big and strong - like a peacock, Daniel thinks - like he wasn’t 100 pounds soaking wet. 

Daniel hadn’t known then that he’d be some kind of a mentor figure. Mentor figure and-

Max pushes his face towards Daniels needily, instinctively, eyes squeezed shut miles before they make contact. Daniel can feel his short breaths puffing out of his nose, onto his cheek. He always kisses like its the first time, like his memory’s been wiped and he’s learning how to go through the motions again. Daniel can feel his hands, those cautious fingers gripping at the lapels of his suit, the squeak of starchy dry cleaning. 

Their teeth clack together messily when Max next pushes forward. Daniel brings up his hand and strokes his palm down Max’s neck like the flank of a spooked horse, feels him shudder and calm. He cups his cheek, feels the muscle of his jaw jump under his fingers.  

They have the time to neck like a pair of horny teenagers. Max flinches, then pushes back when Daniels hands do a cursory pass over his arse, a quick squeeze.

“Alright, alright mate,” he steps back, slaps his hand on Max’s shoulder, “that’s enough yeah? The grind and all that, the hustle.” 

Two more quick, heterosexual pats, like they’d just had a manly fucking hug, like Daniel hasn’t half chubbed up in his pants. 

Max nods, lips wet. His tongue passes over them, like he’s tasting Daniels residue. Fuck.

“Yes, seducing me is not getting you out of your paperwork,” his voice is hoarse, but cheeky. He does that half second pause before Daniel laughs before his mouth splits into a toothy grin. 

“Yeah, no, I’m not the one with the paperwork mate,” he gestures towards Max’s laptop on the desk, “your fucking, kingdom of emails awaits my liege.” 

[ptergwen]

Can you do one where mj is keep telling the reader to confess to Peter that she likes him but the reader is too shy and doesn’t want to but Peter overheard their whole conversation then they confess their feelings and fluff?

w/c: 1,037

warnings: like one swear

a/n: hi omg this took forever for literally no reason i’m sorryjfhwdjs i hope u still enjoy <3

-

“fuck… i like him so much, mj. i don’t think you understand,” you gush, too busy venting to notice her eye roll.

the pair of you are sharing a pizza at the cheapest restaurant you could find. during your meal, your conversation naturally drifted off to peter because he’s all you care to talk about as of late. you’ve been crushing on him for a minute, and mj is who you choose to confide in.

she wishes you’d spill your guts already for her sake and yours. mostly hers, though.

you finish chewing a piece of pizza crust. “i like him more and more every day. it’s kinda insane, even feeling this way about someone.” grunting, mj puts down her glass of lemonade. “especially peter.” she squints at you from across the table. “i refuse to believe the kid gets you this hot and bothered.”

“stop, he’s so…” a dreamy grin stretches across your lips. just the mention of peter livens your life. “he’s so funny, you know? with his stupid puns. those actually make me laugh.” mj is unimpressed, sipping her drink with a blank expression. “so, he’s got jokes. big deal. what do you really see in him, y/n?”

peter suddenly strolls into the pizzeria. coincidentally, he’s there to pick up an order of takeout for him and may.

his gaze instantly sets on you and mj, more so you if he’s being honest. he smiles as he watches you animatedly chat amongst yourselves. you’re waving your hands around while mj huffs and puffs.

it’s cute, really cute.

he’s considering stepping off the pickup line to go over to you two. then, he hears his name come up. he doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but his enhanced hearing has other plans.

“peter just has this energy to him that i can’t get enough of,” you further elaborate. mj rips another pizza slice from the rack, needing the fuel to continue your chat. “like, he’s so warm and genuinely kind… it kinda rubs off on you. it’s really comforting.”

you’re anxiously tapping your fingers on the table top, now hyperconscious of your surroundings. it’s almost like you’re being watched.

mj hums. “right, but why are you telling me instead of peter?” she chomps on a particularly stringy piece of cheese, giving you a moment to ask yourself the same question.

why are you?

oh, that’s right. you’re absolutely terrified.

you aren’t too great at expressing yourself, so simply sharing this with mj is a challenge.

“because i don’t know how to tell him!” you whine, sliding down in the booth dramatically. mj kicks your leg under the table. “what’s the difference? at least he’s into all this mushy shit. i’m not.” you glare up at her. “yeah, but is he into me?”

peter gasps, earning looks from other customers on the line. his face burns bright red for a multitude of reasons.

you like him back? you like him back?

“ask him,” mj grumbles and takes another swig of lemonade. she’s reached her limit of peter discourse for the day. “are you insane? i could never!” you reject her suggestion. “when am i even supposed to-“ mj’s eyes widen, fixed on something behind you. “right now.”

confused, you frown. “what? like, over text? i dunno… you’ve had better ideas.”

mj shakes her head and points forward. you turn around to follow her gesture, your jaw immediately dropping.

surely enough, peter is making his way over to your table. he’s looking cuter than ever in his midtown hoodie with a blush coating his cheeks.

how the hell…

“peter? what’re you doing here?” you squeak, popping up in your seat. his lips press into a small smile. “hey, y/n. mj. just picking up dinner.” he glances between you and mj as he scratches at his gelled curls. “small world, right?” mj lets out a sigh. “a little too small for my liking. i’m gonna bounce.”

she raises her eyebrows at you, a clear signal that you choose to ignore.

“where are you going?” you speak, teeth gritted. already getting up from the table, mj mumbles her response. “bathroom. all that lemonade went straight through me.”

she makes a point to bump peter’s shoulder before she leaves, peter gulping.

the two of them share an unspoken agreement. peter needs to confess his feelings, and he better not screw up.

you mutter a few choice words under your breath when mj takes off. peter makes out some of them, chuckling lightly and sitting in her former seat. his heart is beating alarmingly quick. yours is somehow faster.

“so, uh…” peter licks his lips and rolls up his hoodie sleeves. “the food here any good?” you purse your own lips. “it’s alright. i wanted to go to delmar’s, but it was mj’s turn to pick.” peter’s grin widens. he’d been the one who introduced you to delmar’s bodega.

peter shrugs a shoulder. “well, i don’t blame you. you know what they say.” “best sandwiches in queens,” you two chime in unison, each giggling at the other. his cheeks flush once again. you bite back a smile, your knee accidentally brushing against his.

although you hastily back away and apologize, peter welcomes it. he moves in closer so both your knees are touching now.

oh.

“i was wondering, and only if you’re up for it of course… could i take you tomorrow?” peter asks, voice soft. he gives you his infamous puppy eyes. you meet them with shock in yours. “to delmar’s? like… like on a-“ “a date, yeah,” he clarifies and nods vigorously for emphasis.

his hand finds yours on the table, both your fingers lacing together and peter beaming at you.

“i like you, y/n. think it’s time i did something about it,” he finally admits. you nearly collapse on the spot as peter’s thumb runs along the back of your hand. “i like you, too. way more than you know,” you breathe out a quiet laugh. “it’s weird, i was just debating with mj whether i should tell you.”

oblivious to the fact that peter heard everything, you squeeze his hand tighter. the tips of his ears turn a deep shade of pink.

he’s got a lot to tell you.

[8bitscarlet]

Witchcraft

Summary: You've found yourself falling deeper into a certain witch's spell. But no matter how strong the magic is, it seems that the two of you just keep missing each other.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Angst/Fluff (minor cussing)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is a fic for @marvelxreaderfanfictionfest writing exchange. This one is for @mrsromanoff and the prompt: "I can't keep kissing strangers and thinking they're you." Hope you like it!

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours.*

________________

You never thought your three month assignment with the Avengers would've extended as long as it has. Missions went by with minimal injuries and maximum wins. You found yourself settling well into the chaos of the compound; the echoing boasts of Thor, the competitive edge of Danvers and the snark between Romanoff and Stark. When your three months were up, it wasn't a surprise to anyone that you immediately signed the contract from Stark, an official placement on the team.

Despite all of the alien blasters, Hydra experiments and Tony's benefit parties, nothing could've prepared you for a single person to rock your world. It started innocently enough; stolen glances at meals and ensuring you two were on the same mission team. As time continued, things turned less innocent; sneaking off during charity balls to suck face in the broom closet, you could recall a few times you were nearly caught in the back of the Quinjet. There was something about this woman. The way her fingers slithered through your hair, how those green eyes made your heart say yes, she stripped you bare.

You had convinced yourself it was witchcraft. It had to be.

Sitting with your cheek pressed against your fist, you find yourself doodling as Steve drones on in the background. Someone nudges you and as you turn, Wanda raises her brows when your eyes connect. With a groan, you raise the pen in your hand. Steve notices, stopping his spiel to look at you with a clenched jaw.

"With all due respect, Cap, we all got in at four this morning. Do we need a recap of the mission right now?"

Steve sighs, glancing at everyone and seeing them agreeing with you. You all had barely had time to unpack, let alone write your after action reports.

"Alright, Y/N. We'll go over how your pants tore mid-fight on Monday."

You point your pen at him, warning him as you watch his stupid smile fill his face. Bucky slaps your shoulders in gratitude, picking up Alpine onto his shoulders as he strides out to find Sam. Wanda's fingers gently brush yours as you walk side by side, sending an electric charge through your body.

"You know, when someone says 'with all due respect,' they really mean, 'kiss my ass'." Wanda glances at you with a sly smile.

Walking backwards towards the couch, you outstretch your arms with a grin, "Because that's what I meant, darling."

Chuckling, you roll over the back of the couch and plop down onto the cushions, your head landing perfectly on a pillow. Wanda lets out a scoff, knowing how many times it's taken you to actually land on the cushion and not the floor.

Flipping through the pages of her book, you watch her through half-closed eyes. A year ago you'd be asking what she was reading. A year ago, she'd curl up with you and explain it all. A year ago, you didn't have guilt eating at you.

Things a year ago were more than good between you. There might have even been a chance beyond friends with benefits. You knew you wanted that. Every time you looked at her, you couldn't stop your pounding heart or the warmth that grew in your stomach.

But you were stupid.

Chickening out every chance you had to ask her on an actual date rather than sneaking around to make her moan. You both had set ground rules, no strings attached. If it got too messy, you both had to call it quits. So, you convinced yourself it was better to quietly love her and keep her, than to tell the truth and lose her.

That was before the year long mission with Carol and Bucky. Before you realized how big of a mistake it was two months in. Before every day texts and video chats diminished to every other week, then every other month. Before you got back to the compound and saw her kissing up on some random benefactor at the Welcome Home Party. It was definitely before she started dating that walking toaster, Vision.

Luckily, he hadn't been around much the past month so watching them kiss and stare into each other's eyes was doable, mostly because you turned whenever you saw that stupid spark plug.

Four months since coming home, you've tried to fill the void the witch had created in your body, your soul. You went out with Carol and Bucky, prowling the town and the bar. Matching shot for shot some nights, waking up in random apartments other nights. Eventually Bucky did what you never did.

He asked Sam on a date and that left you and Carol. Until she started hooking up with Maria and dragged her along so you wouldn't be hitting the bars alone. You had made yourself a pity case.

"Do you need something?" Wanda cocks a brow at you, making a face at your prolonged staring.

You clear your throat, feeling the heat rush through your face, "You look a little sunburnt."

With a shrug and a chuckle, Wanda bookmarks her page as she places it down on the coffee table. Standing, she sits down on the couch, your body automatically scooting over to accommodate her. Holding out her red and glowing hand, you watch her pull off her rings, displaying the radiating tan lines running up and down her fingers. A laugh escapes you as you feel her hand slap against your chest.

"I didn't have anyone to put sunscreen on me!" She groans, "It burns!"

You guide your finger gently down her exposed arm, pressing in slightly to her warm skin. As you lift, you see the true color of her skin before it's bombarded with the glowing red of her burn. Glancing up, her green eyes watch you carefully, both of you not acknowledging the weight of her hand still on your chest.

"An aloe vera massage would do wonders," You whisper, "And I'm all out."

With a roll of her eyes, she leans back into your legs, "You really are a pain in my ass, y'know? When I tell people about you, that's the first thing I say."

Watching her float the remote to her awaiting hand, you grin, "Oho, so you're telling people about me, huh?"

"Please, check the ego there."

For the next moment, the two of you sit peacefully in each other's silence. Wanda was one who clung to those she trusted. When you came back, it was like she had superglued herself to you any time you walked into the room. It didn't help that you were still madly in love and she was taken.

Right now though, you watch her delicate fingers play with yours. Her eyes squinting with laughter as she watches her sitcoms, glancing to see if you're laughing as well.

A commercial echoes through the living room and Wanda lets out a sigh for attention, patting your thigh as she drops your hand. You don't move it as it lands atop her thigh, only gently stroke your thumb against the silky skin you wish could press against yours. Letting out a noise that you're both awake and paying attention to her, she glances over at you.

"Since you got Captain America to actually give us a free weekend, what's your plan tonight, casanova?"

You shrug, "I have early training with Bucky and-."

Wanda moves her whole body to face you, your hand slipping from her thigh as confusion spreads across her face. She lets out an unbelieving scoff,

"You're joking. You used to show up half drunk to training and still kick ass."

She's watching you carefully and you try to keep a neutral look on your face, she knows all of your quirks. Glancing up at her with a small grin, you pull your legs into you. Shifting yourself, you sit properly on the couch and run your hands through your hair.

"Just don't want to go out tonight. It's boring." You chuckle, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

Wanda rolls her eyes, "Why, no one catches your eye anymore?"

Another playful nudge and you sigh. All this playful teasing, these light touches. She has to know what she's doing.

Trying to keep a steady and nonchalant shrug, you shake your head,

"No one out there."

And you might've gotten away with it. Instead, you fell into the magnetic pull of those green eyes that cause you so much trouble. As your eyes land on hers, you can see the dilation within her pupils. Then the realization across her face. Her playful grin falls as she stares at you, blinking slowly.

"Y/N," She says slowly, "If you're doing what I think-."

You stand up quickly, your feet taking you to the other end of the coffee table. In two days you'll be gone and you'll be back in the place you hate being in right now. Placing your hands on your waist, you look up from your tapping foot.

"Wanda, I can't keep kissing strangers and thinking they're you."

Silence meets your face. You watch her as she slowly nods at you, "That's exactly what you're doing."

Groaning, she slides her fingers through her hair, pinning it from her face. Wanda lets out a careful breath before looking up at you, "What happened to no strings?"

Slapping your hands against your thighs in frustration, you let out a scornful chuckle, "Come on, Wanda. You know those rules were bullshit! No strings means not going on exclusive trips to museums and restaurants!" You watch her eyes flicker around the room, trying to find a way to disprove what you're saying. "It means not staying up all night when the other is sick!"

Wanda stands up quickly and you can see the look on her face, she knows what you're getting to. Waving her hand to get you to shut up, she tries to get to the stairs but your words blurt from your mouth,

"It means not falling in love!"

Her feet stop carrying her towards the stairs, her body frozen in the middle of the compound. Carefully, you step towards her, leaning ever so slightly to try and catch her eyes. They're glazed over from your confession, trying to understand the implications.

"I left. I..." You suck in a shaky breath, "I thought it would be easier if I wasn't here. You were so adamant about no strings, Wands. I broke the only rule, why would I stay?"

Her head jerks back at your words, her brows furrowing deeply down her face. Without another second to keep talking, Wanda's feet pivot as she shoots a finger into your face. You jerk away from her advance, seeing the growing mist within her eyes as she shouts,

"That's why you left?"

The crack in her voice sends one through your heart.

She turns quickly, her hands violently wiping at the tears that have broken free. You clench your brows. She's angry at you? You're the one who's had to watch her prance around with Vision, you just a memory of romance. Just before she can grab her bag and leave, you call out,

"Well, you seem to have fared better than me!"

As the words leave your lips, you bite down hard and shut your eyes. A surprised choke exits Wanda's throat as she throws her purse back onto the side table, knocking over the decorative bowl of rocks. They scatter across the ground but she doesn't notice, all of her rage is pointing at you. Her fingers run violently through her auburn hair, looking like she wants to rip it out.

"You are infuriating!" She jabs a fingers at you, "Why think that?! Because I'm dating Vision? He's filling a void, dumbass!"

Her words stab into you as her stomps draw nearer, you can feel the heat of her anger. She's not done, she's not letting you off easy.

"Every time he touches me, every time he kisses me. God, Y/N! All I can see is your dumb face."

Wanda's heavy breath washes over you as she finally stops her assault, so close you can see the blue in her green eyes. Her body radiates out to you and you have to force your hands into your pocket to not grab her and kiss her. Your eyes dip to her lips but you see sadness that has quickly replaced the facade of anger. Making a small fist, she slams it into your chest as her head bows. Her arm slides down your body, hanging limply at her side as she looks to you.

"Why didn't you talk to me?"

Wanda's fingers twitch forward, wanting to grab onto you. You sigh, taking your hands from your pockets and resting them on your waist. Your confession was supposed to be more romantic than this. Instead, you brought up issues you both were trying to ignore. You were angry now at yourself, taking it all out on the person you loved. You'd spent too long with all of this pent up emotion though, and it was all pouring out in waves.

"I have to finish my requisition forms. Get my gear ready."

You don't have to look up to know what face Wanda is making at you. It's the same face she had when you left the first time. The way her brows clenched together in disbelief, the pain behind her reddened eyes that threatened to spill more tears, how her chin trembled as she tried to breathe.

Her voice barely passes a whisper but standing so close, you hear every broken syllable, "You're leaving again."

You sigh, rubbing your throbbing temples as you feel your nose stuff up.

"You drop all of that on me and you're just going to turn around and leave?"

Shaking your head, you want this conversation to end. It's obvious where she is and it's not next to you.

"Don't you have a date or something?" You ask.

Wanda's been around you too long to not see exactly what you're doing. She lets out a chuckle, a lethal look in her eyes.

"No, you're right. And that date seems a hell of a lot better than this." Without another word, she snatches her purse from the table and starts to climb the stairs, leaving your feet frozen. Just as she reaches the middle of the staircase, she stops. You can feel her stare burning into you and as you look her way, you wish you hadn't.

"You're a coward."

Those words burn into your brain, rising through your ears and torture you for the rest of the day. The only thing you could think to do was slam your fists into the closest thing. The punching bags. People came and went, eyeing you try and punch away your frustrations to no avail. When the sun finally had sunk below the horizon, one Avenger had enough of your pity party.

"You know she's right." A voice comes from behind you.

You don't respond to them, just dodge the swaying bag. They walk into the room, stopping just inside of your peripheral.

"You're an idiot, you know."

With a chuckle, you sidestep the bag, "You need to be a little more specific."

"You're losing her again."

Another punch, "Uh huh."

Carol sighs next to you, "And you sent her away on her date."

"Yup."

She steps in front of the bag, stopping its movement and stares at you with determination in her eyes, "And you're not going after her?"

Avoiding her stare, you start to unwrap your hands, wiping at the sweat that pours down your face. Stopping, you can feel the cramp in your side and the throbbing of your knuckles. Chucking the wrap, you let out a shrug,

"Is there a point?"

Carol shoves the bag into you, grabbing your attention, "I am not going on another mission with you while you sulk. Do you know you talk in your sleep? Yeah. Guess what name I heard that whole year?"

You shake you head, licking your chapped lips as you search for water, "She didn't say it back."

You hear an exasperated chuckle from Carol, "Y'know Y/N, I'm going to go on a limb and say she wasn't expecting all of that to be thrown in her face."

Shooting her a glare, she keeps talking, "I'm saying this once. If you think this is going to be some cheesy Rom-Com where she bursts through those doors and confesses her love, you're more of an idiot than I thought." A finger jabs hard into your chest as you grimace, "You need to fix this."

Carol leaves you there with your head filled with more thoughts than before. Wanda was happy with Vision wasn't she? She hadn't talked about him much but you knew she had to be. Who were you to go and screw that up?

Night turned into morning and after staring up at your ceiling, you knew you weren't getting any sleep.

Sneaking down the stairs, you see everyone is still asleep. You take the opportunity to sit in more silence and wait for the coffee machine to finish steaming. The sun was just beginning to shine its red hues into the kitchen as you stood at the counter, twirling your empty mug. Lost in thought, you failed to hear the padding of feet coming down the stairs.

"I thought you had early training."

With a quiet chuckle, you lean into the counter, "You caught me."

In silence, you watch the witch pour in her coffee. The same amount of creamer and sugar every time, the same motions every morning since you've noticed her. Turning, she sees your mindless fingers twisting and turning your empty mug. Wanda raises her brows and holds out her hand,

"Refill?"

You hand over the mug and watch her work her magic on the black liquid, turning it into the caramel drink you love. Breathing in deeply, you watch the bubbles swirl around the liquid. You furrow your brows,

"I can never make mine taste-."

"We broke up."

Her words slam into you, your breath catching inside of your throat. Looking up, Wanda stands there in the middle of the kitchen, unsure if she had truly spoken or not. She looks up at you, her mouth closing as she realizes she doesn't know what she's doing.

"What? Wands, are you okay?" You start to stand to go and comfort her, you know they had a date yesterday. Did the son of a microwave hurt her?

Wanda's hand rises, stopping you in your tracks before she takes a quiet breath, "We broke up almost a month ago, Y/N."

Nodding at your obliviousness, you knock your knuckles against the counter as you press your lips into a thin line, "We're both liars then."

"Tell me you lied about the mission," She whispers, leaning into the counter. Her fingers laying gently across yours.

Your chest constricts as you sigh, "I didn't."

You watch her sullen nod, curling hair falling out of her messy bun as you gently graze your thumb across her knuckles. She quietly chuckles,

"We just missed each other."

Stopping your thumb, you clench your jaw. This isn't going to happen again.

"Wanda," You whisper, listening to the sad hum she gives you as she glances up with bloodshot eyes, "I'm sorry. I was scared and... I was an idiot."

Wanda pats your hand with a loud sniff, "I appreciate it, but-."

She doesn't continue. She doesn't want to believe that you're leaving. The love you feel wouldn't be strong enough to survive that time apart again. There's broken support beams and one thing will send it falling down. A far away mission isn't the nurturing this budding feeling needs.

Wanda tries her best to flash you a grin, "Let me teach you how to make coffee."

Before she can turn, you grab her hand quickly, "I'd prefer if you made it."

As you walk around the counter, you gently rest a hand on her waist, watching her carefully. Her handgrips your arm tightly, words stuttering from her lips as she tries to remind you that she's not going. You're leaving her again.

Without hesitation, you press your lips against hers, feeling her breath wash over you in a sigh. You pull her in tighter, leaning your head back to speak,

"Sam's going stir crazy. He can have it."

A smile tugs at your lips as you see her furrowed brows on her face, you place a kiss at the center of the wrinkles, pulling back to see the scrunching of her nose. A scrunch just for you.

"Wanda Maximoff. I love you. And I'm not losing you twice."

Without warning, her lips smash against your as she wraps her arms around your shoulders as you hoist her up. Wanda's legs wrap around you as both of you are smiling so wide that you can't kiss properly. Feeling her cold hands press gently against your face, you look into those green eyes that complete you life.

"I love you." Wanda whispers as her witchcraft wraps around you once more.

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand) 

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.  ҉   next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it. 

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge. 

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too. 

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view. 

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”. 

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute. 

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets. 

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance. 

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?” 

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over. 

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae. 

looking hot, her message read. 

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[1kook]

attachment: 1 image

— jjk x (f) reader

summary; But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere. warnings; sexting, dick pics, dirty talk?, phone sex, vivid depictions of jungkook being just so sexy bc its true, rating; mature (18+) misc; mentions of youtuber kook 🥰, he’s just horny, stupid selfie trends (see here), he’s a little whiny but so hot v.v  wc; 4.6k 

notes; I've had this in my drafts since april 😐 n then i was like maybe we should actually finish this so i started n then last night i hit another follower milestone!!! so then i rlly forced myself to finish this bc i was so 🥺🖤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway enjoy lmk what u think its not proofread bc uhhhhh yeah 🤩

You’re at work when it happens.

It’s sometime between your usual listless thoughts of what to write for your weekly reflection papers for some course, and your trip to your store’s pharmacy to bother a coworker. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your work apron. You’re normally pretty good at ignoring the sound, most of the times it’s just a classmate asking for help on homework or Jimin lamenting his love life, so you’ve grown used to ignoring the tiny vibrations, stocking a quarter shelf of different cooking oils before something in your brain tells you to check your phone.

You already know it’s not something grave, but that thought alone means nothing at the sight of the tiny jungkook♡ that appears at the very top of the list of notifications. Your boyfriend’s texts tended to be wildcards, never following a certain routine or alluding to any specifics. He could send you a long paragraph on how much he misses the scent of that one shampoo, the one you’d briefly run through last year because your usual brand was out of stock, with a ten point explanation on why you should switch back to it. Or two word, caveman sentences that drove you crazy because you never understood what exactly he wanted when he’d send those nondescript “munchies dip” texts.

You unlock your phone, clicking to the messenger app instead of directly on the notification. Hopefully the preview will give some warning on whether you should invest in this conversation or not. You hated the read receipts on messages, choosing to ghost conversations as you pleased, but Jungkook had wiggled his way into your phone one afternoon and specifically turned them on for his chat with you, and you’d never turned them off since. So he knows if you choose to ignore Attachment: 1 Image at 1:43pm exactly, and he'll pester you about it until you respond.

You contemplate it all for twenty seconds. It could be a variety of things, you guess, but the only way to find out is to actually see with your own eyes what he’s up to this time. He knows better than to distract you at work, is usually really good at waiting until your shift is over to spam you with messages. For him to send you something now, only a few hours into your shift, is uncharacteristic of him.

But you glance down the aisle anyway, taking note of some elderly woman you’d helped a few minutes prior and another teenager aimlessly walking around, probably looking for the snack aisle. You inhale and press down on your chat with Jungkook.

It takes you a moment to make out exactly what the image is, twisting and turning your phone around as you fight to see it without raising the brightness. It’s only when your eyes finally adjust to the dark screen, the faint beeping of the check-out registers fading into the distance, that you realize it’s a shot of the front of his sweatpants.

“Hm?” you murmur, getting brave enough to pinch the image between two fingers, zooming in until you’re able to decipher a multitude of details. For one, there’s a Flaming Hot Cheeto stain on the hem of his sweatpants, the same one you’d accidentally put on there a few weeks back and haven’t been able to wash out since. Then there’s that huge palm of his, tattoos and all, rested carefully against his thigh. It’s veiny and thick in all the right places, bringing all the attention to his knuckles, which you guess is what he was going for when you consider the centerpiece of the image—his hardened dick straining against the grey material.

There’s no text attached to the message, no snapchat font slapped over the image, so you wonder what exactly he wanted you to do with this information mid-shift. Well, realistically, you know exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you won’t clown him before getting there. After all, Jungkook was seldom the naughty texter; sexting annoyed him, he would whine, because he would do all that and not even get to feel the true pleasure of sex, of being inside you. You’ve dabbled in it here and there, but it never went as perfectly as it did in pornos. He’d drop his phone and forget it, or you would straight up ignore the damn device as you went all in on yourself.

But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.

you what’s this about?

You decide to play it safe, because as exciting as the image of Jungkook at his computer chair, cock hard and angry at the thought of you, fluffy hair ruffled in that way you adored, jaw twitching and tightening as he touched himself, moaned deep and rough and just how you liked and—

As nice as that image was, for all you knew this vague message was Jungkook sending you a picture from a week ago to purposefully fuck with you at work.

jungkook♡ what time u get off? jungkook♡ miss you bad baby

Your stomach flips, and it takes everything in you to not squeal and bounce between the shelves like a toddler on a sugar rush. Here was your boyfriend, the cutest, sweetest boy, sending you dirty pictures of himself and telling you how much he needed you. Yes, YOU, not some random on the street, or someone else in a club, Jungkook needed pleasure and that pleasure could only come from you.

You glance back down the aisle again, checking your surroundings for the second time that day. You’ve been standing here, stock cart empty for a little over five minutes now, so it’s probably best to change location lest your manager come barking down your neck. You send one quick text before heading off for stock again.

you 4pm :(

Your phone dings again just as you’re leaving the stockroom, but you decide to check it once you get to the hygiene aisle you need to work on next. Still, the prospect of Jungkook having texted you has you walking with a skip in your step, one your coworker teases you about when you pass by her.

jungkook♡ fuck jungkook♡ tell me what panties youre wearing jungkook♡ please ?

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling at the tone you’d picked up from his message. There was no doubt he’d been riled up for a while now, and you wonder if he sat through his usual Saturday morning streams with his cock hard, pushed against the edge of his desk like you knew he did when such things happened. The thought has you nearly fumbling with a bottle of aloe vera.

you seamless black thong you the one you bought me at the last vs sale

Briefly, you wonder if you should have lied and told him you were wearing that red lace set he’d given you last Valentine’s Day, the one he’d bought with his first big YouTube check. But the beauty of being in a relationship with someone like Jungkook is that you could have told him you were wearing grandma undies and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet.

jungkook♡ mm jungkook♡ tiny ones u ruined last time?

You set your phone down, speed stock a row of sunscreen like you’re on some shelf stocking national competition, before daring to text Jungkook again. Your cheeks are still warm, and your hand tightens dangerously around a bottle of shaving cream.

Before you can formulate some response, he’s sending another one in.

jungkook♡ u soaked those jungkook♡ came fast that day jungkook♡ want u so bad

Your cheeks burn, a little embarrassed that he remembers such details. As with all Victoria’s Secret panties, they were, like Jungkook said, extremely thin. You pause, shift your stance just barely, but you’re definitely wet. Not terribly so, but with this fabric, you’d start to notice it sooner than with others.

you mm you makin me wet bunny

It’s not a complete lie, but knowing Jungkook this is exactly what he needs to hear to get that competitive streak going. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, stocking another section of men’s shaving cream. It takes longer for him to message you back, and you wonder if he got off fine on his own. If it’s over now, at least he provided you with some distraction midway into your shift.

When he texts you again, you’ve almost completely convinced yourself he’s finished, so the Attachment: 1 Video that appears on your lock screen throws you for a loop.

It’s a short clip, no longer than ten seconds, but it has you scrambling to lower the volume on your device as some unsuspecting mother of two wanders past. You flash her your practiced smile, the same one you give all the store’s customers. Not like your boyfriend is jacking it off on your phone, shallow pants filtering out from the speakers.

You turn your phone over carefully after she leaves, try to at least pretend you’re still doing your job as you play the video again.

Sweats are gone, but boxers remain. Legs deliciously exposed, thick thighs with muscles that ripple when he moves. Shirt pulled up just slightly to showcase that broad expanse of tummy, cute belly button and defined abs that tighten with each glide of his palm over the outline of his cock. Your mouth fills with drool at the sight. He was so hot.

Your brain hasn’t even processed it yet, all your energy directed towards your clenched pussy, when he shoots another text.

jungkook♡ im so fckin hard jungkook♡ wanna kiss yuo every where baby jungkook♡ come ove r soon ??

Shutting your eyes and counting to ten doesn’t help ward off the sudden wave of horniness that consumes you, but it does remind you of the job you’re supposed to be doing now. You shake your head, as if the image of Jungkook’s dick throbbing beneath his boxers, low voice in your ear, will magically disappear. It doesn’t, and it plagues you even more when you begin stocking a section of sunscreen, numbly instructing yourself on what to do next. Shaving cream, sunscreen, lotion next, you repeat.

It doesn’t help.

Two minutes later and you’re scrambling for the phone you’d hastily tucked into your apron pocket, tapping your passcode in until your messages with Jungkook are pulled up again.

you after work you promise

Your head is absolutely spinning, the coil in your stomach too tight for you to try and be a functioning member of society. Something in you says to sneak off to the bathroom and call him, but your boss is a little bit of a prick when he wants to be, thinks you take too many bathroom breaks as is.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A curt call of your name has you whirling to face your shelves again, phone tightly pressed against your ribs like maybe it’ll melt into your skin and he won’t see it. At the same time, your sudden fright has you scrambling to turn it off, fingers sloppily pressing against the buttons, hitting the volume like seven times before you eventually feel the familiar click that signals it’s off.

Your boss disappears shortly after, and with his sudden appearance having made every hair on your body stand, you find yourself now slumping against your stock cart. Jesus, that man was a handful to deal with.

The paranoia sticks for a little bit, has you stocking shelf after shelf like a robot until you finish the entire row of hygiene products, back stiff from bending over so much. It’s only when you return to the stockroom ten minutes later that you dare take your phone out again.

A pleasant surprise awaits.

It would appear that during your haste to hide your phone from your boss— Jungkook’s scandalous messages and all —your frantic hands had done something else. A fuzzy picture on your end, a blurry display of lotion bottles you had stacked just before your boss’s impromptu appearance, with no words to accompany them. Normally Jungkook would have ignored that; you frequently sent accidental messages like this, butt texted him, he says.

But there’s something about Jungkook’s horny brain that makes him do stupid things, makes him blow up your phone with a series of question marks, call you four times, whine and fuss in your message thread, and eventually, send you probably the oddest image to date.

jungkook♡ ??? jungkook♡ ????what is that jungkook♡ baby please jungkook♡ I don’t get it ??

jungkook♡ Missed Call (4)

jungkook♡ baby jungkook♡ what does it mean jungkook♡ please ur drivign me insane jungkook♡ jsut wanna hear yuor voice jungkook♡ fuck please just

And then, there’s another one of those cursed Attachment: 1 Image messages.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You’ve been dating Jungkook for a few months now, know he had that sort of unique personality most college dropouts turned YouTubers do. But every now and then the absurdity of his actions makes you question him still, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his to warrant such ideas, makes him balance a bottle of body lotion on the thick outline of his cock like this.

Unlike the first few images, this one was taken in front of a mirror. The blinding fluorescent light in his bathroom paints him in a stark color, has every inch of his pretty face on display for you. Rosy cheeks, dewy skin. Perfectly swollen cock straining beneath his grey boxers, curved up against his hip. Shirt pulled up, finally freeing that expanse of muscles on his abdomen, cute little belly button on display once again. The red material is pulled up to his mouth, pearly white teeth biting down on the fabric, and he’s got this flushed expression on his face.

But the real star of the show isn’t his chiseled abdomen or sexy expression, but the sheer hardness of his dick that lets him balance a bottle of body lotion over it, like a fuckin’ shelf or something. He’s so hard, dick so full beneath his boxers. So big too, the little boxers pulled taught around said engorged cock and thick thighs.

Your brain says to laugh, to tease him for being such a clown even when he’s horny as hell. He won’t take it to heart, will probably laugh along with you and you’ll add it to your still growing list of funny memories.

But your caveman libido says call him, so that’s what you do, ducking down behind a new shipment pallet with a squeak as the phone rings. It only lasts four seconds before he picks up, voice breathy and low, but it sounds so loud in the silence of the stockroom.

He doesn’t even let you get a greeting in. “You like my picture, baby?” he husks. It sounds like he’s right there, right beside you, speaking into your ear. Your pussy throbs at the way he sounds. Paired with the picture from before, it has your body tingling all over.

“What the fuck is that?” you hiss, trying to not let the sudden overflow of arousal leak into your words. Jungkook chuckles.

“What?” he huffs. There’s the brief sound of shuffling, the scratchy noise of his phone presumably being pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so hard, baby,” he sighs before you can pretend to reprimand him any further. “Fuck— you, can you just talk to me?” he groans, and the disgusting sound of him spitting into his palm fills your ear.

Your face feels warm, eyes nervously peering across the stockroom like your boss will suddenly appear now of all times to rip you from this important phone call. The anxiety and arousal mix weirdly, have your leg bouncing but every new movement sends a shock up your aching cunt to your chest, and then out to the tips of your fingers.

“You shouldn’t be doing that when I’m at work,” you murmur hurriedly, moving to nervously bite at your finger. Jungkook moans softly.

“Uh huh,” he says.

The air conditioning turns on and you nearly jump out of your own skin. “Kook,” you stress, frazzled by your own burning arousal and the fear of being caught. Like you said. Weird mix. “I— not when I can’t respond.”

He shudders on the line. “You’re responding now,” he points out. You hate when he’s right. Before you can defend yourself, define what a proper response is in this scenario, he’s beating you to the punch. “Baby,” he whimpers, voice so airy yet low, makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, back unconsciously arching. “Couldn’t stop— fuck.”

Your mouth feels dry, all and any form of lecturing fading from your thoughts as you become consumed in Jungkook’s little whines and whimpers. He talks smoothly, a modern day Casanova, and it’s certainly because of that cult-like harem he’s gathered on YouTube. Teenage girls who kiss his ass, tell him he’s cute and dreamy. Make his ego so big.

But then he gets horny and can barely contain that lisp you tease him about, shivers and melts when you put his cock in your mouth. “Couldn't what, bunny?” you mumble, voice drawn tight because now you were really horny, and it was all his fault.

The nickname makes him mewl prettily, your speaker suddenly going scratchy as he fumbles with his phone. “C- Couldn't stop thinking about you— your mouth,” he admits, and now you’re certain he’d sat through that Saturday morning stream like this. “T- Tits,” he adds, lisp slipping through. “Fuck.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you remind yourself now was not the time or place to get yourself off. But, well. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get him off. “Sat through your stream like this?” you murmur, circling your kneecap with a trembling finger as if it’ll ward away the raging lust in your abdomen. Jungkook confirms with a breathy moan. “Had all your little fans wondering why you ended so early.”

He groans. “No,” he chokes, voice hot from how much it wavers. “They— I lied,” he confesses out of nowhere, “s- said I had a doctor’s appointment.”

You muffle a giggle into your palm. “Naughty,” you tease. “Too hard to do your job.”

“Just,” he cuts off, voice feathery. He sounds so close and you haven’t even said anything of substantial value yet. “Tell me,” he says quietly, “what to— mmh, what to do.”

A smirk consumes your features. You try to hide it, but there’s no one here anyway so you’re left grinning at an unpacked box of dental floss like a madwoman. “Why?” you inquire playfully, bask in the sad little whimper he responds with. “Shouldn’t you know how to make yourself cum?”

Another groan of frustration, desperation seeping into his tone when he speaks again. “Baby, please,” he begs, and it feels good. Feels nice to have this big YouTuber begging for you like this, whimpering your name like his doesn’t appear on the top 25 most viewed. “Like when you— ah — when you tell me… what to do.”

Your body feels hot, thighs pressing together with each whimper that falls from his lips. “Okay,” you concede, and he audibly moans in relief. “Tip first,” you instruct softly, eyes defocusing as your brain slowly starts to manifest the image of Jungkook spread out on his bed. Thick thighs, grey boxers pulled taught around them, fat cock between his pretty hands, inked knuckles squeezing around his member. You swallow. You can tell exactly when Jungkook does as you say because another muffled moan fills the speaker. “One finger,” you remind him quickly, head spinning from the mere memory of his dick. “Run it… run it over the slit, bunny.”

“Nngh—“ Jungkook sputters. You can only imagine the face he’s making now, the bottom lip he’s bitten raw by now. He does it a lot; it’s a nervous habit. But as sexy as it looks when you’re in bed, you know he has sensitive lips because of it, bleeds easily if he’s too harsh. You have half the mind to remind him about it now, but then he’s hurriedly gasping out for more. “And, and then? Wha— what then, baby?”

He sounds so sweet, melodic voice dripping with honey. “Touch your balls,” you say a little breathlessly. “Don’t squeeze,” you add, “just roll your palm over them.” Your palm squeezes against your thigh, as if it’s remembering the feel of his body, the soft skin between his thighs when you’re down there. He gets so jittery, thick thighs nearly crushing you if you drag him along too much. “O- Other hand on your cock,” you stumble, thighs squeezed together. “Stroke yourself just like I do, bunny.”

Jungkook complies. “Just like you?” he mumbles, suddenly sounds farther away. As if he’s dropped his phone off to the side. “Fffuck,” he grunts, “m- mouth is so pretty.”

“Hm?” you inquire, so consumed with tampering down your growing arousal for a second that you miss his sentence.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, and for a moment you’re met with the wet squelch of his cock in his hand. And then, “pretty mouth… make me— make me wanna see you cry.”

You bite your lip. “Why,” you say tentatively, finally caving in with a hand fluttering over the front seam of your jeans. Not a question, more of a gentle nudge for him to spill his thoughts.

“Be- Because,” he cries, fucking into his hand. He sounds closer and closer. You have to wonder just how long he had been riled up. It’s been a while since his first message, he was probably desperate by now. “Y- You’re so nice,” he cries, and the sentiment, though oddly out of place, makes your heart squeeze with adoration for the boy on the line. “Wanna be,” he groans, “wanna be so fucking mean to you, baby.”

The sudden change of tone makes you choke on a moan, hand pressing against your mound like it’ll somehow penetrate the thick material of your jeans and give you the sensations you crave. As it stands, it’s a muted feeling you get instead. When your hands fail, his voice compensates. “Fffuck, don’t you— don’t you think about it too?”

Admittedly, no.

Jungkook had always been a gentleman in bed. Always cared for your needs before his own, went out of his way to make you feel pampered and adored during your most vulnerable moments. Contrary to what his online persona might say, he was a good boy. Sweetest boy you knew, touched you like you were made of glass.

So to suddenly learn of this dream— fantasy? kink? —of his that you would certainly enjoy equally as much, well. It made you whimper into your palm, eyes worriedly flickering toward the stockroom’s entrance.

“Why?” you whisper, feeling like a broken doll repeating the same phrase over and over again. You’re suddenly aware of how hot everything was. Your polo felt sticky against your spine, apron too tight, jeans too stuffy. How long had you been hiding in here for? You don’t even know. Hopefully your absence on the floor had gone unnoticed.

Jungkook pants into the line; everything sounds so sticky and wet on his end, hand undoubtedly working away at his cock. “Shit,” he curses, doesn’t really answer your question until you prod a second time. “I- I like it,” he stammers. “When you… fuck, when you look small.” He elaborates before you can even ask, breath heavy and drawn out. He was so close. “When your mouth… when it hurts,” he says, thoughts a scrambled mess. “Like when you— when you cry because my cock is— it’s too big for you.”

A blatant ego boost you’ll ignore for now. Not like you can focus on too many things right now anyway. “Your cock is big, bunny,” you agree softly instead. Your legs feel cramped from crouching so long, so you push yourself to your feet. Except then you’re made aware of how fucking wet you are, panties soaked from the phone call with your boyfriend. You shift and they stick to your folds, make you release a shaky exhale that Jungkook doesn’t miss.

“I— you’re wet,” he says boldly, and this time your meek confirmation isn’t a lie. Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I—“ cut off by his own whiny cry, probably bucking into his hand like a madman by now. “Wanna, wanna kiss you everywhere,” he says, a call back to his earlier message. Your legs feel like jello. You want him to kiss you everywhere too— lips, tits, cunt that is dripping for him now.

“I- I’ll be over soon,” you stammer, feeling like you’ll pass out if he carries on any further. He sounds so good on the line, soft pants, rough growls. You can’t possibly listen anymore, not when you’re so wet and horny in the middle of your shift. “Just,” you pause, can’t get the image of his pretty cock out of your mind. Every blink makes it more vivid, reminds you of the vein on the underside, the exact shade of the tip.

“What?” Jungkook hisses, voice higher than usual, parts of it lost under the rapid movements of his hand. “Tell me, baby, tell me what to do,” he begs hoarsely, “I’ll do it.” Sounds so desperate and needy, two seconds away from busting all over his hand.

You have to lean against the wall of the stockroom to ground yourself, remind yourself you’re not in the same situation as Jungkook and can’t cum in your pants like a teenager. “J- Just cum,” you choke, eyes fluttering shut.

He must’ve been waiting for that command, because the second the words leave your throat he’s filling the line with breathy groans and cries as he comes all over himself, probably ruins his t-shirt. The sounds have your hips unconsciously bucking forward into nothingness, the frustration of not being able to cum with him manifesting in the form of a tiny little sob. Luckily, he doesn’t catch it.

When it’s all said and done, he’s left panting into the receiver, flooding your speaker with breathy sighs that only make you more and more aroused.

“You’re terrible,” you frown, cheeks flushed, body tingling. You flip your wrist over and check the time; it’s been about sixteen minutes since you disappeared from outside. Sixteen minutes of listening to Jungkook touch himself and moan and whine and whimper. Tease you with new possibilities you had never considered before. And now he’s satisfied and you’re not.

Jungkook chuckles, low and tired. The sound shoots straight to your cunt. “Come over after you shift,” he says, as if you’re not planning to fake a severe case of the flu right now in order to get off early and run to his bed. You only had a little less than two hours of your shift left anyway. Not like they paid you well to begin with. Jungkook shifts, releases one of those saccharine groans as he probably snuggles into his bed, all sweaty and worn out. “Want you to fuck my face, baby.”

You frown, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Another few minutes of listless conversation, and you hang up. Your body feels featherlight, a little woozy as you make your way back out into the floor.

Nothing has changed. Customers pour in and out, your boss scolds you for a display you didn’t do, and life inside the store drags on. No one knows that you’re soaking your panties to hell and back, Jungkook’s soothing moans in your ear. Life goes on.

you shift ends in 20

jungkook♡ sweet jungkook♡ got your seat ready jungkook♡ Attachment: 1 Image

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 8) - Good Days, Bad Days

Summary: The reader has a special birthday surprise for Jensen and starts to get to know Jared more. When Jensen returns home from Toronto for good though, he and the reader have their first big fight and make more moves in their relationship...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,300ish

Warnings: language, angst, fighting, smut

A/N: Enjoy!

________

Thursday Night

“So how do you want me?” asked Jensen, leaning against his closet door in nothing but his boxer briefs. 

“Oh well that’s a dangerous question,” you laughed. “Jeans are fine for where I’m taking you.”

“Alright,” he said. He ducked into the closet and returned wearing only a pair of dark jeans, smirking at you with his hands behind his back.

“Being a little shit?” you asked.

“One of my best qualities,” he said. You hummed and went past him into the closet. “So what should I be wearing on this date out?”

“I’m kinda a sucker for you a henley and flannel. Not to let that go to your head at all,” you said.

“Oh you should never watch Supernatural then,” he chuckled, grabbing a long sleeve white henley off the hanger and pulling it on.

“I did sort of start watching it,” you said. “You look like a little baby that hadn’t hit puberty yet.”

“I got better with age, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a wink.

“Oh yes you did,” you said. “I like it. It’s kinda scary but not too bad if you watch during the day.”

“It gets less scary pretty fast,” he said, putting on his red and gray flannel. “I all set?”

“You look very pretty,” you said, walking out with him on your tail. “So does the show end happy? Like they live? It’s got this angsty feel to it where I feel like something bad is gonna happen.”

“Do you want me to spoil it?”

“Dean doesn’t like die, right,” you said. He made a face and you frowned. “No. Why? He doesn’t deserve that.”

“Eh, calm yourself woman. Things could happen in the future...he might not have to die...or he might come back and I really shouldn’t be discussing these things.”

“You’d do more?” you asked.

“Oh for sure. On a streaming network where we get to do all the shit we couldn’t on cable. Get some fresh eyes in on the writing or maybe we’d even take a crack at it. It’s not really an if, more of a when so don’t go worrying about Dean. I like my new friends at work and everybody’s great but I miss Jared and my old ones. I’m definitely working with them again.”

“That’s great! Now come on, move that tush. We have reservations.”

“Reservations. Fancy,” he said. He put on a pair of socks and shoved his wallet in his pocket, following you out to the hall when you spun around. 

“Oh yeah,” you smirked. “You may also have a little birthday surprise waiting for your downstairs so eyes shut mister.”

“You’re devious. I like that. I like that a lot. We should explore that later in bed.”

“Tempting. I’ll have to take you up on that,” you said. “Eyes shut.”

You held his hand and he shut his eyes, going down the hall with you. You went slowly down the steps, Jensen’s arm around you the whole time. You grinned and walked him over to the family room before leaving him in place.

“Open,” you said. He blinked open his eyes, quickly landing them on a grinning Jared standing there.

“How the hell are you here?” said Jensen, Jared giving him a big hug he quickly returned. “Shit I missed you man.”

“Me too. But it’s someone’s birthday this week and I don’t have work tomorrow so I caught a flight up this afternoon. Y/N thought I’d make a good present.”

“Fucking awesome present,” he said, still grinning ear to ear. 

“You doing okay?” asked Jared, Jensen nodding. He gave him another hug and you smiled. “So how’s that crush on the nanny working out?”

“Shut up,” said Jensen, smirking as he pulled you into his side. “Jared. I know you guys met already but Y/N is your soon to be best friend just as an fyi.”

“Oh we’ve already started chatting,” you said, Jared chuckling. “He’s really sweet. I had to legit stop him from jumping on a plane that second when I texted him he thought something was wrong.”

“I think between the two of us we can keep an eye on him,” said Jared. “So you mind if I crash your date?”

“Not at all,” you said. “I’m taking both you boys out. My treat.”

“I’ll be back in a minute,” said Jensen two hours later while he excused himself to the bathroom. Jared finished off the last of his beer and smiled as he leaned back in his corner of the booth. 

“You know I’m totally covering this right,” he said.

“Dutch?” you asked.

“I’ll take the alcohol, you take the food.”

“That I can agree to,” you said, glancing over the dessert menu. “I’m really happy you were able to come up to hang out. I know you got your own family and everything and this was last minute.”

“He’s my family too,” he said. “I’d do anything for him. Literally. Don’t ever hesitate to call me, no matter when or where. I’ll be there for him like he’s always been for me.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a smile on his face like that before.”

“I have. You just didn’t notice that night at the bonfire.” You shrugged and he cocked his head. “How long you two been dating?”

“A month or so,” you said. 

“You like him?”

“He’s alright,” you said, smiling before you took a sip from your glass. 

“Thanks for taking care of him lately.”

“Don’t need to thank me for that,” you said, sliding the dessert menu over to him.

“Yeah but I’m still going to,” he said. “I meant what I said earlier. Between the two of us he’ll be okay again.”

“He’s never gonna be the same. He’ll be happy and it won’t hurt as much. But it’ll come back and hit him time to time.”

“There’s a reason he’s my best friend and it’s not just because we worked together for so long. He’s always been there for me and I’ll be there for him. I feel better about him being up here when he’s got someone else watching his back.”

“You had the hard job, not me,” you said.

“He’s come a long way. Doesn’t mean this is a cakewalk though I’m sure.”

“No, you’re right about that,” you said as you spotted Jensen returning.

“You guys order dessert yet?” he asked, sliding in beside you.

“Why doesn’t the birthday boy pick,” teased Jared, handing the menu over to him. “You guys ought to come home for a weekend when you get a chance.”

“It’s kinda a long way to go with the kids for just a few days,” said Jensen. “But we’ll be home soon. Hopefully.”

“I can get you a gig on Walker anytime you want it dude, just ask.”

“Maybe. I kinda want to get with the guys and maybe work on that Supernatural stuff. I need good stuff to look forward to, you know?”

“I do,” said Jared. “As long as you come home eventually I’ll learn to live with just using your jet skis in the meantime.”

“See what I’ve been dealing with for over a decade?” asked Jensen.

“Oh yes. He’s horrible,” you teased. “We really shouldn’t have him sleepover then, should we?”

“You’re staying at the house?” asked Jensen with a grin.

“Duh. I didn’t just fly a thousand miles to not see you dude. I’m here all weekend. Let’s have some fun.”

“Boys I’m heading to bed,” you said around two in the morning. 

“Yeah we ought to go to bed ourselves,” said Jared.

“I’ll grab you some sheets and stuff,” said Jensen. You waved goodnight to Jared, heading down the hall towards your room when Jensen wrapped an arm around your waist. “I thought you were gonna sleep with me from now on.”

“I am. Want to check something real quick.”

“Hurry back,” he said. He kissed your temple and ducked into his room, leaving you in the hall. You went down to your own and checked your email, smirking when you saw what you were looking for. A rattling of fingers on the door made you glance up, Jensen smiling there. “Texting your other boyfriend?”

“No, I sort of...submitted one of my stories to a publisher. They’ve been talking to me this week and said they’d get back to me today on if they wanted to move forward. They want to do a five book deal. I already have the stories done and mostly drawn anyways. They gave me an offer just now.”

“That’s awesome,” he said. “Seriously. We’re gonna celebrate tomorrow for sure.”

“It’s no big deal,” you said.

“It really is,” he said. He picked you up and grinned, carrying you back to his room. “I’m proud of you.”

“They’re stupid stories,” you said.

“I love those stupid stories,” he said, setting you on the bed. “The kids do too.”

“You’re just saying that cause you’re supposed to say that.” You set your phone on the nightstand and crawled under the covers, Jensen pulling you into his chest when het got underneath.

“My children think their mom is really okay now. They don’t get sad anymore and they ask questions about her again and I don’t want to cry every time I talk about her because your story reminded me that the wolf dad can be happy again for him too. That’s really fucking important to me right now in life.”

“Okay Papa Wolf,” you said. You grinned and he returned it. “Night Jensen.”

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

Two Months Later

“Hey Jared,” you said as you answered your phone. “What’s up?”

“Jensen at work?”

“Yeah. Late night again,” you said. “He’s answering texts between breaks I think.”

“Cool,” he said.

“You need something?” you asked. 

“No, no. I’m good,” he said. “Thanks. I’ll catch you later.”

“You doing okay?” you asked.

“Yeah. Just want to talk to him for a minute,” he said. He was a little quiet and you sat down on the couch. 

“You want to talk to me?” you asked.

“That’s okay.”

“Jared...Jensen and I are starting to get serious which means we’re gonna be together a lot considering how you two can’t go more than a day without talking. We can be good friends too,” you said. He was quiet and you hoped you hadn’t sounded too corny.

“I uh, I have bad days sometimes. Really normal days can be bad days in my head. It’s kinda how I was built I guess,” he said. 

“Nothing wrong with that,” you said. “Today a bad day?”

“Kinda. Nothing happened. I had a normal day at work and home. I’m just off. He um...Jensen makes me feel better as lame as that sounds. Just talking for a few minutes helps my head get on track that somebody really does care.”

“He’s very good like that,” you said. “I know you mean the world to him. You’re his brother. It’s not lame that he makes you feel better. You make him feel better too. I owe you a lot for taking care of him after the accident.”

“I much prefer when I’m the one freaking out and he takes care of me,” chuckled Jared. “You guys coming home soon?”

“He’s got a few weeks left of filming but I might head down a little earlier, try to get the house sorted out down there with the kids and stuff,” you said. “He’s literally counting down the days.”

“He really likes working on the show though I thought.”

“Oh he does but he’s got a big circle on the calendar for the fifthteenth called Jared day. I think your boy is planning something fun.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said. “You mind if I ask a personal question?”

“Shoot, buddy,” you said, stretching in your seat.

“Do you love him?” he asked. 

“Going full throttle out of the gate I see,” you said.

“I know. I know how he talks about you though. There’s no...casual relationship with him.”

“Well I haven’t said it to him yet and he hasn’t said it to me so...maybe another time I’ll be able to answer that question.”

“It’s been almost four months. You get to spend more time together than most couples starting out. I’d think you know by now,” he said.

“I do. But he deserves to hear it before anyone else,” you said. 

“So you love him.”

“Most things I love have a habit of going away,” you said. 

“He won’t,” he said. “You do more than make him happy, Y/N. A lot more.”

“I just wish he didn’t hurt.”

“He hurts a lot less lately. Some of that’s time and some of it’s you. Enjoy being one of his best friends. He doesn’t let that many people in that close.”

“I know. We were supposed to be talking about you I thought.”

“Eh, sometimes I just need the talk. Thanks. I got somebody else I can call now too.”

“It’s never a problem,” you said.

“It’s getting late there. I’ll let you go. Thanks for talking, really. I feel better.”

“Anytime Jared.”

“You too, Y/N.”

Three Weeks Later

“Doug you’re a lifesaver,” you said as finished washing Jensen’s truck in the driveway back home in Austin. He smiled as he wiped off his hands and gave Arrow a wave goodbye. 

“I owed you for that 3am incident,” he said. “You got easy kids. Mine are vultures.”

“Yes, yes they are,” you laughed. He gave you a kiss on the check and smiled as he headed back for his car, another one coming down the open driveway. “Later Doug.”

“Later,” he said. Jensen exited the back of the car along with his backpack and a suitcase, the car pulling out, Doug following after.

“Hey. How was the flight?” you asked.

“Who was that?” he asked, dropping his bags on the pavement.

“Oh that’s just Doug. He’s a nanny. I needed an extra set of hands today watching the kids trying to finish up these chores before you got home and it was perfect timing,” you said. You smirked and walked over to kiss him, Jensen taking a step back. “Something wrong?”

“You kissed him.”

“No. I didn’t. He kissed my cheek,” you said. Jensen narrowed his eyes and you scoffed, wiping the sweat off your forehead. “Seriously? He’s my friend.”

“That kisses you.”

“He’s affectionate,” you said. “Also he’s kinda married so you can tone it down with the judgemental looks.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. You’re right. You should be able to kiss whoever you want despite being in a relationship,” he said. He grabbed his bags and brushed past you inside. You grumbled and went after him, finding him upstairs in his room. “What?”

“What stick is up your ass today? I haven’t seen you in almost three weeks. None of us have and you’re in a bad mood.”

“I was perfectly happy until I saw you kissing somebody else.”

“I wasn’t kissing him!”

“It didn’t look like that from my perspective.”

“Jensen.”

“Is this just a little game to you? You get bored of the older guy with kids finally?” he asked, crossing his arms. “Or maybe you just got caught finally.”

“I don’t cheat,” you said, getting in his face. “He kissed my cheek. I’ll call him to come back and explain this situation right now but I apparently you just think I’m a cheater.”

“Well maybe you are. Geez, we’ve been together over four months and no real sex yet? Cause that’s not sending red flags.”

“Because you weren’t fucking ready!” you shouted. “I’m not your wife and I’m never gonna be her. Don’t be mad at me for it.”

“No that’s for sure,” he said.

“The kids are in the front yard. Don’t expect me back today,” you said. You stormed downstairs and into your room, shoving some things in a bag before taking your purse and getting behind the wheel of your car. 

You were seeing red by the time you were out of the suburbs. You slammed your hand against the wheel and shouted.

“You fucking asshole,” you said. You sniffled and drove for a bit before finally pulling off. You drove down a long road, rolling your eyes when of course you passed by his brewery. You’d never been but he’d told you about it more than once. You kept going down the road, eventually finding a park to pull into. You shut off the car and shut your eyes, a knock on the window making you jump. You put down your window when you saw a cop there and did your best to wipe off your face.

“You’re double parked,” he said. 

“What?”

“You’re parked on the line,” he said. 

“Sorry,” you said. 

“Bad day?” he asked.

“Something like that,” you said. You could feel snot threatening to drip down your nose, the officer reaching into a pocket and handing you a tissue. “Thanks.”

“Best not to drive when you’re upset,” he said.

“Yeah. I’m just gonna sit here for a little while,” you said with a nod.

“Probably not a great idea to sit in a car next a playground,” he said. “The mom’s are kinda intense around here.”

“Of course they are,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Why don’t you move your car and you can join me on my patrol,” he said. “It’s only a short walk. Fresh air might do you good.”

“Last time I talked to another man my boyfriend sorta freaked out on me so maybe not a good idea,” you said. You blew your nose and realized what you’d said, the officer staring down. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Why don’t we take that walk so I can find out what you did mean.”

Two minutes later you were walking next to the cop. He had a baseball cap on and was in all black. You weren’t sure how he wasn’t boiling considering it was May in Austin.

“This boyfriend got a name?”

“You gonna run his name or something?” you asked.

“Do I need to?” he asked. You shook your head and he smiled. “He the jealous type? He get angry over you talking to other men?”

“It’s complicated.”

“If it doesn’t get uncomplicated I might have to pay this boyfriend a visit you understand.”

“His wife died last June.”

“Okay. I understand part of the complicated thing now.”

“Why’s he gotta be a dick? Called me a cheater,” you said. You crossed your arms and the cop chuckled. “Sorry.”

“As long as you don’t call me a dick we don’t got a problem. Did you cheat on him?”

“No. He...he works away and he just got home today and my guy friend was over helping me with watching my boyfriends kids while I did some chores and my guy friend is like, a really affectionate guy and he kissed my cheek as my boyfriend was coming in and my boyfriend thinks I was kissing him back and been cheating on him for the past three weeks.”

“Why don’t you just call the guy friend over to explain?”

“He got so pissed so fast and accused me of cheating. I’ve been dating him for nearly five months and he brings up the fact we haven’t had sex yet like that even matters when I’ve been holding back for him and he just blows up on me for fucking nothing,” you said.

“You’re both stubborn people, aren’t ya,” he said.

“Maybe,” you grumbled.

“Maybe this guy is scared and looking for a way out of the relationship. Or maybe he thinks you want out. You mentioned kids. That’s not easy.”

“He’s also...older. There’s an age gap. I was the nanny and now I’m the girlfriend nanny. He’s also kinda...famous,” you said.

“So there’s a lot of stress in this relationship then.”

“No,” you said, dropping your arms to your sides. “It’s not like that.”

“Maybe the dumb bastard just got scared of losing someone again,” he said. “Just a theory.”

“I wish he wasn’t scared,” you said. “I don’t know how to make him not afraid.”

“You ever think maybe he said that because you’re getting in there pretty good now and he’s getting real scared that losing you might hurt just as bad as this wife did.”

“He’s an idiot. But he’s my idiot,” you said. 

“Talk to him. Get an apology and try to forgive him.”

“I already forgive him. I know him. He was scared and I got mad instead of realizing after so many weeks apart all he needed was a freaking hug.”

“Then go home and give him a hug,” he said.

“Thanks,” you said with a nod. “I must have looked like a hot mess or something.”

“Oh for sure,” he chuckled. You smiled and he laughed. “That looks better.”

“Jensen probably left like five messages on my phone by now,” you said. The cop you were with paused and smiled. “What?”

“A kinda famous Jensen. There’s really only one of those in town,” he said.

“Oh. Yeah. Please don’t share that he’s dating. He really wants to keep things private for a lot of reasons right now,” you said.

“He’s my buddy.”

“Your buddy?”

“We went to school together,” he said. “In tenth grade he went for a slide on second base, ripped his pants right down the middle. His hanes bright blue covered ass still managed to get around to home base.”

“He split his pants in a baseball game?” you smiled.

“I know quite a few of his dirty secrets,” he said. “I don’t really know that whole acting thing but him I know and that must make you Y/N. You ever in trouble kid, ever just got a bad feeling and want a cop to come by, give me a call.”

“Thanks,” you said as you took his card. “You really think he’s a dumb bastard?”

“Oh knowing it’s him, 100%. Give him a break. We like him when he smiles,” he said.

“I’m gonna give him a call,” you said. “We should hang out sometime now that Jensen has a break.”

“Definitely. I gotta finish my patrol,” he said. “Take care Y/N.”

“Bye,” you said as you headed back towards your car. You pulled out your phone and saw seven missed calls and twelve unread texts. You tapped the screen and put the phone up to your ear, only ringing for a second.

“I’m sorry,” said Jensen.

“Me too.”

“I’m the one that...shit I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what happened.”

“You missed me and you were scared and seeing Doug probably hurt like a bitch,” you said.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t want to be the stupid jealous boyfriend.”

“I’m not too far from your brewery if you want to meet there. Get a beer. Blow this over,” you said.

“I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you. Stop apologizing. I want to give you a hug,” you said. 

“I’ll meet you there in thirty minutes?” he asked.

“I’ll see you soon honey.”

“Hi,” said Jensen as you sat at a quiet table in the back, sipping on a beer and eating a piece of pizza. You smiled and stood up, giving him a hug. He tucked his head down and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey we survived our first big fight as a couple,” you said. “That deserves beer and pizza.”

He sat down next to you, forcing a smile on his face. You reached over and cupped his cheek, Jensen turning into it. 

“Please forgive yourself,” you said.

“I don’t really want to,” he said.

“You called me a cheater. I get what I want today and that’s for you to forgive yourself.”

“I don’t know why I said that.”

“Jensen,” you said, stroking his cheek. “I love you.”

He stared at you, a different look in his eyes, the tiniest sliver of a smile peeking through. You inched closer and slid your hand around to the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He felt softer than usual, lips barely moving against yours. 

“I love you,” he said. He wrapped his arms around you and grinned. “I have loved you for a very long time.” You kissed him again, Jensen returning it. 

He left his arm around your back, smirking when you did the same to him.

“Can we forget about earlier?” you asked. He nodded and rested his head on your shoulder.

“One last I’m sorry though,” he said.

“Just don’t call me that again and we’re all good, Jens,” you said. “Now eat some of this pizza so I don’t feel like a glutton.”

“I don’t have to slip into a superhero costume any more so dad bod here I come,” he chuckled.

“Does that mean Solider Boy meets some untimely end?”

“No spoilers,” he said. “But I don’t think I’ll be going back to that show. At least as often. I know I want to direct an episode of walker in the fall. I talked to Jared about it actually so that’ll be fun. I might do a duck and run guest appearance on it. I’ll line up something for next year but I want to be home for awhile, do work around here.” 

“I know quite a few people who would be more than okay with that,” you said. 

“Don’t make any plans for Saturday,” he smirked.

“I thought you were having your Jared day tomorrow.”

“Oh we are. Gen invited you and the kids over. She’d like to get to know you. You’ll love her,” he said.

“So what’s Saturday then?” you asked.

“I’d like to take you and the kids out on the boat. We haven’t been since before the accident. Maybe we can go out for dinner and put up the tent in the backyard, have a sleepover out there with the kids.”

“That sounds fun.”

“And...I’d like to maybe next week take you out for the day, just us, maybe...spend the night somewhere,” he said.

“Like a hotel?” you asked.

“Yeah. Or the kids can have a sleepover at Jared’s. Maybe.” He glanced down and you moved your arm from his back, reaching behind yourself to hold his hand. Green eyes flickered over to yours and you smiled. “I’m-”

“You know if you keep apologizing about earlier I’m not going to have sex with you,” you said. “That’s just facts.”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “No more apologies. Aside from...I really am sorry about what I said. I’m the one that’s been holding back and not once have you asked for more.”

“We said we’d take it slow and that’s okay,” you said. He squeezed your hand and nodded. “I don’t like you because you’re attractive or your hair is great or your arms are massive. Having fun with you is fun but that’s not why I’m here.”

“I don’t know if I can give you things you want,” he said.

“Just give me you and that’s good with me,” you said.

“Okay,” he said quietly. You scooted closer to him, Jensen tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Let’s do it now.”

“Uh, what?” you said, taking a sip from your beer.

“The kids aren’t home and I don’t want to wait and-”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” you said, knocking back your beer and flipping the cardboard down over your pizza. He stared and you burped, picking up the box. “There’s like six slices left and this is too good to waste, even for sex.”

“You have literally never been more attractive than in this moment,” he said. 

“I could be.”

“I’ll see you at the house in twenty?”

“Yes you will Ackles.”

Forty minutes later you hand was slapping against his headboard, legs squeezed so tight around his waist you were shocked he wasn’t complaining. You moaned loudly as he teased your clit and he delivered one more hard thrust. He grunted as you gripped his shoulder with your other hand.

“Jensen,” you breathed out. “I’m right there. Please, please, please…”

You arched your back when he thrust hard, fingers rubbing just a bit rougher and you came all around him, every muscle tensed and riding out that high, long, deep, absolutely perfect orgasm. Jensen thrust a few more times before he groaned and rested his head on your shoulder, big panting breaths fanning over your skin. 

He was sweaty but pulled out slowly, plopping down on the bed beside you, hand resting on his chest.

“I don’t know about you but that was good,” he said. “Damn good.”

You giggled between breaths, nodding your head slightly. You tilted it over towards his, Jensen already staring at you with soft hooded green eyes. 

“Definitely damn good,” you breathed. His lips tugged up into a smile, warm and gentle, his head inching closer to you. You sat up and leaned down to kiss him, Jensen breaking off when he needed air. You trailed a finger down his chest before climbing out of bed and excusing yourself to the bathroom. After you cleaned up you found Jensen chucking the condom in the trash and wiping himself off quickly. 

“Come here you,” he said. He picked you up bridal style and carried you back to the bed, laying you down carefully. “I’m big on after sex cuddling just so you know.”

“I find that to be a very attractive quality,” you said as he lay down. He reached down to the end of the bed and grabbed the bunched up blanket, pulling it over the two of you. His arm slid under your head and he pulled you into his side, encouraging you to use him as a pillow. “You’re warm.”

“So are you,” he said. He kissed your temple and let out a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I never thought I’d be able to do that ever again. Let alone not feel bad about doing it,” he said.

“You okay?”

“I’m great,” he said. “Really. I know Dee would have been telling me to not worry so I didn’t. I don’t...I feel like I can talk about her again, you know?”

“You used to call her your wife a lot. Recently you’ve been saying her name more. I think you really are healing, Jensen.”

“I knew the second you left earlier I messed up. I dropped the kids off at Jared’s and then I wound up at the cemetery. I saw these purple flowers there. It’s kinda a different flower but they were her favorite. I’ve only ever told one other person those were her favorites,” he said. You traced your finger over his pec and rested your palm flat on his chest. “Why’d you put flowers there?”

“Why wouldn’t I Jensen?”

“That’s how I knew I can stop being so scared when it comes to you. Purple fucking flowers. You’re just…”

“I love you too,” you said, giving his whole body a squeeze. He returned it, holding you for a long time, neither one of you saying a word. It wasn’t until you noticed the light starting to change in the room that you both moved. 

“Y/N,” said Jensen when you sat upright. You looked over your shoulder, a smile on his face. “Do you want to stay upstairs with me from now on instead of your room? It’s okay if-”

“I’d love to,” you said. “To be honest, I slept up here the other night.”

“You did?” he asked as you nodded.

“I missed you.”

“Me too,” he said.

“I know three little faces that really missed you too,” you said. He smiled and nodded. “Let’s go get the rascals.”

______

A/N: Read Part 9 here!

[ericspinkhair]

dirty thoughts from a distance

pairing: dom!changmin x virgin!reader, best friends to lovers, college au!

synopsis: you masturbate while thinking of your best friend and he catches you moan out his name

word count: 3.8k

warnings: maybe slight angst, (getting caught) masturbating, mutual masturbation, sex in general ig

a/n: y'all are crazyy! it has barely been 19 days and I have already hit 100 followers🤧 thank you guys so much for your support and sending in requests!!! everytime I see leave me nice messages I feel so encouraged to keep on writing even though there is still a lot of room to improve and I am not always completely satisfied with what I create. I wish all of you a great day and hope that you stay happy and healthy!!

this chapter is especially dedicated to @bangcrispychannie​ and anon who requested this kind of scenario ❤️

masterlist + requests

for three years you wondered why you hadn't lost your virginity yet. it's not like you didn't have enough opportunities since you had been in two relationships so far, both lasted about five to seven months.

the feelings in your first relationship were been mostly one-sided however.

when a guy in your biology class named Minho confessed his crush for you, you thought that the only logical next step was to become a couple. you were quite flattered that he had taken such an interest in you and believed and hoped you would eventually develop feelings for him as well. the problem was you didn't. after not being able to be emotionally let alone physically intimate with him for a few months into your relationship, he finally confronted you and you confessed that you just couldn't bring yourself to see him that way. your relationship came to an end just before becoming a senior in high school.

in your last year, you got close with Seonghwa. you were seat neighbors in your english class and you'd chat all the time. he was perfectly sweet, smart and funny and you instantly got along just fine. you developed an interest in him and he seemed to feel the same way. he asked you out with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and some chocolate and you agreed to being his girlfriend without much thought. you caught yourself falling in love with this boy and didn't shy away from physical affection such as kissing and holding hands. you were convinced you were ready to give yourself to him during prom night but when it came to it you chickened out. a couple of hours before, you had found out that your best friend changmin had broken up with his girlfriend of six months.

for a long time you hadn't been able to decipher why you hadn't slept with Seonghwa then. as time passed, the unpleasant answer became clearer and clearer: you had brought up your hopes.

you had been best friends with changmin basically since you started elementary school. on the first day, he scared you with a stupid horror mask he had sneaked in from home and made you cry. he felt so guilty and was determined to make it up to you and to become friends. you had been inseparable ever since.

when he got his first girlfriend in junior year you were devastated. you convinced yourself that the reason for that was that you had been scared he was going to replace you as his best friend but in reality you had felt jealousy.

you were suppressing your feelings because if you confessed, things might become awkward. there was no way changmin could ever like you the same way.

all of this became more difficult as you moved in together for college. you were sharing an apartment now and every day, it became harder to avoid your growing and troublesome feelings. your heart would beat faster whenever he walked around shirtless (which was most of the time) and you decided to try to ignore him. this was especially difficult since you wanted to appreciate his physique. when had he become this handsome? changmin had been dancing all his life so he had always been fit but now that he was majoring in it and training most of the time, his body had developed and he had become super toned and his abs were more prominent.

he'd often make his way into your dreams and you'd let him do inappropriate things with you. you'd wake up wet and needy and even more confused. you were ashamed of seeing him this way. this was not how one normally thought about their best friend.

it was a wednesday morning and you were eating breakfast when changmin joined you in the kitchen. he flashed you a big smile, making his pretty dimples appear which you didn't see as you did not look at him.

'good morning, y/n!' he greeted you in a good mood. you just grunted in response, intensely staring at the cereal swimming in your bowl.

the fact that you couldn't even spare him a glance hurt changmin but he tried to not let it show. he wanted to get you to talk to him.

'do you want to watch a movie and play some board games today after class?' he proposed. you hadn't spent a lot of time together ever since you had become aware of your feelings.

'I have an essay due tomorrow,' you quickly made up as an excuse. the corners of changmin's mouth twitched but you didn't notice as you were too preoccupied with doing anything that didn't include looking at him.

'then maybe on the weekend. or next-' 'I'll be busy,' you interjected. 'I have lots to do.' you stressed the lots to emphasize there was absolutely no way you would be able to hang out with him any time soon.

'umm… okay. I'll be going to class.' he told you dejected. your heart sank but you didn't respond. he was wondering whether he had done anything to make you upset but he couldn't wrap his mind around it. this had been going on for a while and he was starting to become desperate.

when you first got the apartment you spent every free minute of the day together, happy that you finally moved out and could be with each other 24/7, but then you stopped talking to him completely out of nowhere. from one day to the other, you would avoid leaving your room when he was outside and barely talked to him anymore. at first, changmin thought you were just stressed and that you'd eventually warm up again when exam season came to an end but a few months had passed and, if anything, the situation was even worse than before.

you were watching the time and after ten minutes you decided to leave for classes as well. you had started doing this so you couldn't possibly catch up to him and risk having a conversation.

'hey, y/n, what's up!' your friend chanhee hugged you when you arrived on campus. you were both majoring in fashion design and were getting along on well since the beginning of the first semester.

you sighed exasperatedly. 'changmin's up.' you puffed your cheeks and pouted. chanhee nodded knowingly. he was the only person who was aware of your little secret and that was only because you had accidentally drunk confessed the whole story to him at your first college party.

'you know maybe you should tell him. this whole thing is clearly not making you happy and I saw changmin walk by a few minutes ago. if I had to guess I'd say he was in an even worse mood than you. someone accidentally ran into him and he pushed them hard and called them names. it's not like him to overreact like this. he's usually super collected. I think you finally managed to break his spirit,' chanhee reported to you.

this had never been what you intended. why did everything have to be so difficult? you didn't want to be the cause of your best friend's unhappiness.

'he must feel like I despise him. but I cannot confess to him, that would be the end of our friendship!' you were constantly torn apart by this dilemma.

'well, if you're not gonna act on your feelings, maybe try to move on? find something casual or serious with someone new? then you'd forget all about changmin and you'd be able to go back to acting normal around him' he suggested.

chanhee's advice didn't sound too bad. if you couldn't get with changmin then you had to de-crush yourself and find somebody different to focus your emotional energy on. but on who?

'is there anyone you could think of?' you ask chanhee. he had great taste in practically everything so you highly valued his opinion.

'hmm, you could potentially try younghoon hyung? I've seen him eyeing you for weeks now and he even told me thinks your gorgeous.' he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

younghoon was a pretty art student, whom chanhee knew from high school. you didn't talk to him often, mostly at parties and he wasn't exactly your type but you tried to remember shouldn't judge him by his first impression when you haven't even got to know him.

chanhee pulled out his phone and soon you felt yours vibrate in your back pocket. you looked at him questioningly.

'I sent you his number in case you're interested,' he explained proudly. he put his hand on your shoulder and you could see the concern in his eyes. 'you really need to get over changmin if don't want to confess,' he insisted firmly.

so you decided to text younghoon during class. he was very polite and you thought he was cute as he seemed excited to talk to you. you agreed to hang out sometime to get to know each other and decided to meet up friday for dinner.

after the end of your classes, you walked home to warm up yesterday's leftovers. to your dismay, changmin had also decided to come home for once. since you began acting all weird and refused to eat with him, he usually spent lunch time with his dance mates as they had practice after anyway. why had he decided to come here today? your question was answered when he ran up to you, smiling from ear to ear and you noticed he was hiding something behind his back.

'you know how there is a blackpink concert downtown on friday? guess what!' he held up two tickets. surely you would at least agree to spend time with him if it meant being able to see your favorite group, right?

he must have gone through so much trouble to get tickets for you and since blackpink were your favorite music artists you were actually contemplating on going but then you remembered you had made plans.

'I can't. I'm going out with younghoon friday night.'

'kim younghoon?' he raised an eyebrow skeptically.

'why would you to be spending time together? I didn't know he was even talking to you,' he questioned you. anger was boiling inside of you.

'maybe it's because you don't know everything about me,' you snapped at him. you were aware that you were being harsh but somehow his words hurt you. why did he doubt you? did he think you weren't able to get with someone as awesome and popular as younghoon? did he not consider you pretty enough?

the microwave beeped, indicating your food was ready, making you snap out of your thoughts.

'y/n, I swear, that's not what I meant.' he stepped directly in front of you so you were forced to look at him. you stared deep into his pleading eyes as you closed the microwave door, turned your back to him, stomped to your room and slammed the door shut, leaving changmin behind in the kitchen.

your whole body was tense as you listened closely to any sounds coming from outside and felt relieved when you heard the front door close. feeling sad and depressed always made you feel tired so you decided to take a nap to forget about all the negative feelings.

when you woke up you were horny af. you had a dream about changmin taking you on the kitchen counter and now your panties were completely soaked with your arousal.

desperate, you pulled them down and tossed them somewhere to the side. it didn't matter. you needed relief now.

you closed your eyes as you slowly started rubbing your clit, imagining it was changmin's slender fingers touching you instead. your imagination was running wild and you sped up the tempo.

eventually, you plunged your middle finger and then your index finger inside you, pretending that changmin was stretching your walls with his cock.

you moaned loudly and picked up the pace, chasing your high. oh, how much you wished he was the one making you come.

'yes?' you opened your eyes and gasped loudly as you saw changmin watching you from the doorway. you hecticly pulled up your blankets to your chest to cover your naked lower body. for how fucking long had he been standing there?

'oh fuck, changmin...' you cursed out loud.

to your surpise he laughed. 'oh, is this why you have been so distant? were you embarrassed about imagining doing dirty things with me?' your cheeks were burning red and you were unable to move a muscle.

'you know, if you had told me you were thinking of me while doing it then I could've helped you out already. that would have spared both of us a lot of frustration.' he stepped into the room and pulled the sheets away, his hungry eyes fixed on your desperately dripping pussy. you tried to hide it with your hands.

'n-no… what are you saying? aren't we best friends? ' you couldn't comprehend what was happening right now. the way he was acting was so unexpected that you didn't know how to react or what to say. he brushed his hand over your burning cheeks. his eyes were conveying disparity.

'but what if I told you I don't care? that I like you? that I see you as more than just my best friend?'

'wait, you like me?' you couldn't believe your ears. was he actually reciprocating your feelings?

he groaned in exasperation. 'y/n, why did you think I ended things with my ex out of the blue?' you shrugged your shoulders as you weren't sure. you had thought it was because she had lost interest in him, at least that's what changmin had told you back then.

'because I realized I was in love you, you dumbass. how could I be together with someone if I had feelings for someone else?'

'I actually ruined my chances of having sex with seonghwa for the first time for the same reason. it was just after I had found out about the breakup,' you confessed, relieved that you were finally beginning to make sense of everything.

he climbed onto the mattress and positioned his knees next to your closed legs, leaning his hands on the wall behind you so that he was hovering above you.

'I'm sorry that you lost that opportunity. let me make it up to you,' he whispered with his face mere inches from yours and then kissed you. losing all self-restraint, you immediately pulled his body closer so that he was straddling you. after all these months filled with sexual frustration and just frustration in general, you were desperate for his touch. your hands wandered under his dance shirt and you were finally able to touch those abs you had been secretly admiring for so long.

you broke the kiss to take off both of your shirts and changmin skillfully unclasped your bra.

while his tongue was exploring the insides of your mouth, his hands were kneading your breasts, occasionally rubbing and pinching your hardened nipples. you felt his hard dick press against your lower abdomen as he grinded himself into you to get friction.

after having dreamt about this moment for so long, you felt impatient. this was too good to be true and you were scared that if you didn't act quick, your bubble would bust.

without thinking twice about it, you pulled down the hem of his sweatpants and boxers just far enough so you could easily reach inside and whip out his dick. you stopped for a moment to admire his length. it looked even better than you had ever imagined in any of your wildest dreams.

he sat upright, leaning on the wall behind you, while you stroked his cock. he was sensitive to your touch and not shy to show you how well you were doing by responding with moans.

'fuck, y/n. you're doing amazing.' his praise made you eager to show him just how good you could make him feel. your lack of experience was barely noticeable as the adrenaline flowing through your veins was guiding you.

you tapped his thighs to signalize him to inch closer. that way your mouth had easier access to his dick. you hesitantly licked up his length and were fascinated by how he tasted. wanting to have more of it, you swirl your tongue around his pink tip. changmin eventually became impatient and forced more of his dick inside your mouth so you tried to take as much of him as you could but your gag reflex made it difficult for you. instead, you worked your hands where your mouth couldn't do its job.

not wanting you to feel neglected, changmin reached behind him to stimulate your clit. he skillfully started rubbing all the right places and you moaned around him, sending vibrations through his cock.

he couldn't take this stimulation for much longer before he had to force himself to pull out of your mouth.

'wow, you almost made me come there.' he panted heavily. 'but I want to be inside you first.' you got lost in his touch as he placed a long kiss on your lips but a sudden thought brought you back to reality.

'wait, I don't have a condom,' you informed him embarrassed. you hadn't planned to lose your virginity any time soon so you hadn't bought any. did that mean the end of this wonderful dream?

but changmin laughed light heartedly. 'no need to worry. hold up, let me get some from my room.' you relaxed again as he disappeared and came back shortly with a condom wrapper in his hand.

you were prepared for him to start right away and took a deep breath in preparation but he didn't do anything.

'I don't think it's a good idea to start yet since I haven't even prepared you. the last thing I would want to do is hurt you so just lay back.'

he positioned your legs over his shoulders so your hips were hovering in the air. you felt his warm breath against your vagina before he drove his tongue inside you, seeing for himself how wet he had made you and tasting your arousal. you clasped your hands over your mouth to stop yourself from releasing any sounds.

'don't do that. I want to hear how good I make you feel,' changmin complained.

when he slid two fingers inside you, you couldn't hold it in anymore and let out some kind of aroused squeal. you felt self-conscious but it seemed like changmin was only more eager to please you.

at the same time, his tongue was abusing your swollen clit and it was impossible for you to hold back the curses that were spilling out of your mouth. the pleasure he was making you feel was a whole different sensation from anything else you've experienced before.

'more please, changmin!' you begged. you wanted more. you needed more. you needed him.

he carefully lowered your hips back down. 'are you sure you want this?' he asked you, waiting for you to clearly consent to having sex with him.

'I want you. you, and only you,' you reassured him and brought his face closer to kiss him. changmin's typical bright smile formed and you felt the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

he positioned himself at your entrance, swiping his dick between your folds like a credit card to coat it with your juices.

you gripped his arms tightly as he pushed in. he slowly continued until all of him was buried deep inside you before stopping. the feeling of a whole penis inside of you was very different from your or changmin's fingers. it filled you up to the brim and was rubbing all the good spots. while it initially caused you a bit of discomfort, it wasn't overwhelming and it also felt good in a weird way.

when your walls finished adjusting to his length, he began to steadily move his dick in and out.

changmin intensely studied your face. he couldn't believe that after all those years you were finally close to being his. he wanted to savor every single expression you made while he was inside you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso, trying to push him deeper. he slammed his cock back inside you.

'you are mine,' he declared and started going harder and faster.

'I am yours,' you confirmed and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

because of the extensive foreplay and your own masturbation prior to this, it didn't take long until your walls were tightening around his dick and you felt an orgasm approaching.

driven wild by you clenching around his cock, he thrusted into you even faster. you rested your sweaty foreheads against each other as both of you almost came simultaneously.

changmin kissed the top of your head before he pulled out and threw away the used condom. you opened your arms and he let himself fall right into your embrace.

'I know this might be kind of weird to talk about right now but do you want to be my girlfriend?' Changmin asked you. he still wasn't too sure what all of this meant for your relationship and he desperately needed to know where your mind was at.

'after having liked you for all this time I'd be an idiot to say no.' 'you're an idiot anyway,' he teased. you slapped his arm.

'hey! I'm not the one who ignored you for a couple of months because my hormones are out of control.' you hid your face in the crook of his neck, too embarrassed face him.

'I'm really sorry for that. you just mean so much to me and I didn't want my feelings to get in the way of our friendship.' he stroked your hair.

'I do understand that. if I hadn't heard you moan my name today I wouldn't have acted on my feelings either. but all is good now, right?' 'right.' you smiled and placed a small kiss below his ear.

'there is still one thing you need to do,' changmin tried to remind you. you looked at him, puzzled.

'what do you mean?' 'younghoon,' he hinted. you immediately started looking for your phone. that date was definitely going to have to be cancelled. there was no need for you to find a distraction anymore since you had been granted your wish after all.

[kurokoros]

liar liar | bakugou katsuki

Rated: M

Words: 9.4K

Pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

Summary: Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.

Bakugou is hit with a strange quirk. You reap the benefits.

AN: This fic is 50% crack and 50% raunchy smut. I have zero explanations for this. Also big thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for ranting with me once about the fandoms weird level of hatred towards Bakugou, thus inspiring me to write something for him. I’m so sorry it was this.

Warnings: smut, language, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub undertones, rough sex, degradation, spanking, choking, inappropriate use of quirks

***

Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.

Kirishima glances at him out of the corner of his eye as they step into Bakugou’s office, red eyes narrowing in concern as he sees Bakugou’s gritted teeth and clenched fists. “Are you sure you’re okay, bro?” he asks, a little hesitant.

“I’m fine,” Bakugou practically snarls between his teeth. Fuck. The tingling sensation starts in his gut, heat spreading through his limbs, and he nearly swears aloud as the sensation shifts to his dick, his boxer-briefs getting uncomfortably tighter. Shit, he’s probably up to at least another inch by now. Thank god his pants are baggy.

Unfortunately, Kirishima isn’t so easily convinced. Brows furrowing, he looks Bakugou over slowly, searching for any lasting effects from their earlier scuffle with a few low rank villains. “You’ve been acting kind of… strange,” he settles on after an awkward beat of silence, “since you got hit by that quirk. You know, you probably should have gone to a—”

“I said I’m—” Bakugou cuts himself off as that tingle comes back. “I’ll be fine,” he corrects himself. The tingle goes away, and he almost groans in relief as his dick returns to its normal size. “Drop it, Kirishima.”

Kirishima holds his hands up in front of him, placating his huffy friend. “Okay, okay. I get it.” He backs off, still eyeing Bakugou warily as he pulls his phone from his pocket. He glances at the time. “Look, man, I gotta go. I have a date in twenty, and she’s gonna kill me if I’m late again.” His smile is apologetic, but exhausted.

“Whatever.” Bakugou tosses off one of his gauntlets, letting it clatter against the floor noisily. Breathing slowly through his nose, he peels off his mask as well, setting it down on his desk. It’s fine. Everything is fine. He can handle this. It’s just a really fucking annoying quirk that’ll probably go away on it’s own by the end of the day.

Another tingle stirs in his gut, and then his underwear tightens again.

Fuck. He can’t even lie to himself.

Just as casually as before, Kirishima says, “Yeah, and since I figured you shouldn’t be alone, I called you a babysitter,” as he types out a quick text on his phone. If that wasn’t bad enough, Kirishima calls out your name in a sing-song voice.

Bakugou drops his other gauntlet on his foot and whirls around. “You what?” he hisses, only half because of the pain. The sound of your name definitely doesn’t cause his heart to do something stupid like flutter in his chest. And his pants definitely don’t get snug around his crotch as he blatantly lies to himself. “Kirishima, what the fuck? Why would you call her?”

Taken aback by the outburst, Kirishima puts his phone away and shrugs. “I figured she’d make you feel better.”

“I don’t fucking want her here,” Bakugou tells him. Nothing happens in his pants. Like the bullshit quirk affecting his dick can’t decide if that’s a lie or not. Hell, Bakugou isn’t really sure either. Sure, he likes having you around, even if he’d never admit it. He likes seeing your pretty smile as you come flouncing into his office wearing one of those little skirts that make him want to bend you over his desk and—

He squeezes his eyes shut, banishing the thought before it can go any further and his pants grow any tighter from non-quirk related reasons.

On the other hand, you’re quite possibly the last person he ever wants to see him like this. Too bad the universe seems intent on fucking him over today.

“Nice to see you too, Bakugou.” 

The sound of your voice hits him like a lightning strike, still sweet despite the sarcastic inflection of your tone. Bolts of electricity shoot up his spine. In his chest, his heart pounds viciously against his ribs, and Bakugou’s shoulders tense as every one of his senses suddenly becomes a tune to you. Even from across the room, the scent of your perfume tickles at his nose—something floral or fruity that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s heavy and enticing and he tries not to shiver as it wraps around him.

He doesn’t dare turn to look at you as you take a step further into his office, determinedly staring at the wall and hoping you’ll leave with Kirishima. Yeah, un-fucking-likely.

When his silence persists, you roll your eyes and turn to Kirishima instead, the pinched expression on your face relaxing into a pleasant smile when you meet the eyes of the more friendly half of the duo. “Thanks for calling, Kiri,” you say, smoothing out your skirt.

A wide grin is the response you get. “Of course,” Kirishima says, stretching out and linking his fingers behind his head. “Figured he’d listen to you over anyone else.” He ignores the glare Bakugou sends his way, his lips twitching in amusement at the stark silence coming from the explosive blond.

You scoff. “Hardly, but I’ll try.” Casting a glance at Bakugou, you’re a little glad he seems intent on ignoring you, because it gives you the perfect opportunity to give him a slow once-over—for injuries, of course. He looks fine to you, a few superficial scrapes and bruises, but nothing severe enough for Kirishima to call you.

The tension in his shoulders is the first thing you notice. Bakugou is awkwardly hunched over himself in a way that isn’t like him at all. Usually, the Pro Hero exudes confidence that would border on cockiness if he didn’t have the skills to back it up, but right now he just looks... uncomfortable. What little of his face you can see is pinched, but not in annoyance; it’s more like pain, you realize, but then his expression melts into one of relief and you’re left baffled once again.

Before you can think too hard about it, your gaze wanders lower and you’re promptly distracted by his bare arms.

Kirishima clears his throat when you stare at Bakugou’s biceps a little too long.

“What happened anyway?” you ask, turning back to Kirishima. Your face feels warm, and by the way he grins you can tell he notices your faint blush. “You didn’t say much on the phone.”

He sobers a little as you bring the conversation back to the other Hero. The humor bleeds from his eyes, his shoulders drooping. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t have much time. We ran into a couple of villains on patrol. One of them caught Bakubro off guard and he got hit with their quirk. Wouldn’t let anyone check him out after.” He shrugs halfheartedly, looking at you apologetically. “You know how he gets.”

Don’t you ever. You’ve never met someone as stubborn as Bakugou before in your life. He can be a real pain in the ass when he wants, and you can’t blame Kirishima for his best friend being a dumbass.

You prop your hands on your hips, eyes narrowing in on Bakugou again. “How long has he been sulking?” you ask just loud enough for Bakugou to hear you.

Ruby eyes pin you with a heavy glower that would probably make anyone else piss themselves. Bakugou’s lip pulls back in a snarl, his teeth bared, and you ignore the pleasant tingle that shoots down your spine. “I’m not fucking sulking!” he snaps at you, making your eyes roll.

“Sure you aren’t.” Before he can start arguing with you, you turn back to Kirishima. “What do we know about this quirk?” 

“Nothing. Cops are questioning the guy now, but he’s not talking.” Kirishima gestures to Bakugou with his thumb. “And Ground Zero here keeps saying he’s fine.”

Across the room, Bakugou grumbles to himself under his breath, noticeably displeased with your lack of attention, but like hell he’s going to say anything about it. Jealousy is a bitter taste in the back of his mouth, and for once he can’t even pretend that’s not what it is as his glare shifts to Kirishima. Fuck, he wants you to look at him again. Pay attention to him.

The honesty is surprising to him, but he keeps his mouth shut and definitely doesn’t pout as you and Kirishima continue to chat like he isn’t even there. When it becomes clear that you aren’t going to end the conversation immediately, Bakugou huffs and turns around, glaring as he leans back against his desk, watching the two of you. His gaze skips right over Kirishima and lands on you, and he swallows back a frustrated groan when he finally gets a good look at you.

Fuck, you look good today. Unable to help himself, he’s absolutely shameless as he stares at your legs, your short skirt and high heels making them look even longer than usual. Bakugou grits his teeth as his mind drifts to those legs wrapping around his hips and yanking him closer. For once, he allows the thought to linger, lost in his own head.

“I see,” you murmur as your conversation with Kirishima comes to a close. With your lips pursed in thought, your gaze shifts back to Bakugou, only to find him already staring right back at you, watching you intently. Your pulse jumps under his piercing gaze, and it takes everything in you to break eye contact with him and smile at Kirishima instead. “I’ll take care of it. Have fun on your date, Kiri.”

Kirishima shoots you a megawatt smile and a thumbs up.“Will do! Good luck with this guy!” He pays no attention to Bakugou’s grumbling as he heads out the door, closing it quietly behind him, leaving you and Bakugou alone together in an office far away from other people.

Yeah, this should be fun.

You twist on your heels so that you’re facing Bakugou directly. Trying for a charming smile, you prop your hands on your hips. He glares at you and crosses his arms over his chest, clearly not planning on cooperating. And boy does it give you an excellent view of his muscled forearms, all tanned skin and silver scars from years of hero work. You wet your lips, suddenly thirsty. 

“Okay, Ground Zero,” you start, giddily noticing the way he puffs up at your use of his hero name, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong or do we have to do this the hard way?” Your voice lowers at the end, coming out as a husky whisper.

Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and he grits his teeth against the pleasant warmth that curls in his chest. “Piss off,” he bites out, a low and dangerous edge to his voice that you easily ignore.

If you hadn’t known him for years, maybe it would be intimidating, but despite his gruff attitude and biting tone, you know he would never lay a hand on you. “Come on, Bakugou,” you try again, taking a step towards him as a small pout forms on your lips. “Please tell me? I just want to help and make you feel better.”

The breathy whine you let out paired with you wanting to make him feel better does absolutely nothing to help the situation going on in his pants.

His gaze slides to the side, avoiding your eyes as he tells you to “Just go home,” because he doesn’t want to see the disappointment there.

But you don’t back down. You can be just as stubborn as him when you want to be, and there’s no way in hell you’re leaving just so he can cling to his manly pride, or whatever it is he’s worried about. Clearly, asking nicely isn’t going to work. Honestly, you’d be more surprised if it did. “Hard way it is.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen, and his head snaps towards you just in time for you to launch yourself at him. It’s a bit difficult, between your skirt and heels, but you catch him off guard, and that helps. He tries to twist away at the last second, leaving you to cling to his back, limbs wrapping around him tightly. A surprised grunt escapes his at your sudden weight on him, but he doesn’t even stumble, letting you curl your body around him in a one-sided hug.

“Get off me, loser,” he growls at you, glaring at you over his shoulder. Despite his irritation, Bakugou makes no move to shake you off. In fact, one of his big hands latches onto your leg when you start to slip, allowing you to shift yourself for a better grip. He lets go of you just as quickly, standing stock still in the middle of the room while glaring at everything that isn’t you.

Your fingers dig into his shoulder where you’re grabbing him. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

This time, he does try to shake you off, and you squeal as your grip starts to slip. “I’m fine!” he snaps at you, only to wince a second later.

Ever the opportunist, you don’t think twice before hooking your leg around him and going for his knees. Bakugou swears as he loses his balance, and somehow you manage to knock him to the floor using a grappling move that he taught you. He ends up rolling in time to land on his back, cushioning your fall aa your knees press against the floor on either side of his hips, straddling him as you pin him with a firm look. Long fingers grasp at your upper thighs, his thumbs grazing the hem of your skirt, and he lets you go just as quickly, as if you’ve burned him

Bakugou looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, but, again, he makes no move to shove you away, though he definitely could.

“Oh, yeah, clearly you’re just fine,” you reply, sarcasm laid on thick. Your hands are pressed against his chest for balance as you regain your bearings, and you can feel the angry breath he takes. Bakugou is warm and solid beneath you, hips pressed snug against yours. It feels way too good, but that’s not what you need to be thinking about at this moment. “Now stop acting like a baby and tell me what’s going on.”

Looking up at you, Bakugou sighs when your fierce look doesn’t relent. He mutters something under his breath that’s too low for you to make out clearly, then grimaces. “It’s nothing,” he tells you again, a harsh edge to his voice.

You pin him with a glare. “You got hit by a strange quirk, Bakugou,” you tell him slowly, contempt dripping from every word. “That’s not nothing.” The crack in your voice on the last word is what makes him drop the sour look on his face. You wince, fingers curling tighter around his shirt, like that might keep you grounded. All the fear you felt when Kirishima called you earlier comes surging back through you, and it feels like a blow to the ribs. You stare at his chest as you continue, the words bubbling up and out before you can stop them. “I know you. You’re too damn prideful to go see a doctor and admit something is wron—and that scares me sometimes, you know? One day you could get really hurt.” Slowly, you force your eyes up, meeting his stare with your own tentative one. “Please, just tell me what’s wrong. For me?”

Bakugou’s expression softens nearly an imperceptible amount. His glare smooths out. “Fuck,” he growls under his breath, trying to ignore the violent tug on his heartstrings that comes with that pleading look in your eyes. He’s always been a sucker for you, and you damn well know it too.

But he’s not going to give in this time.

The tingle that goes straight to his crotch proves him very wrong.

You freeze above him, body locking up as something big and hard presses against your inner thigh. “Katsuki,” you say, forcing yourself not to react aside from the widening of your eyes. “Is that your…”

“Yeah,” he replies, jaw clenched. His tone is nothing short of mocking when he tacks on, “You’re sitting on my cock, sweetheart.”

Well, shit. You blink at him owlishly, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of literally anything to say in this situation that isn’t stupid, crass, or a blatant change of subject. It’s surprisingly hard to think with his bulge pressed up against your leg like this, and you blurt the first thing that comes to mind. “Are you turned on right now?” you ask incredulously, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I swear to God, Katsuki, I’m trying to be serious here, and you—”

He cuts you off. “I’m not fucking hard.” A pair of big, rough hands latch onto your thighs to keep you from squirming over his lap. “But if you keep moving around like that, I will be.”

“You liar.” A gasp sticks in your throat as he tightens his grip on your legs. By this point, you’re pretty sure you’re blushing, but honestly, you can’t find it in you to care when you are, in fact, basically sitting on his lap. Besides, Bakugou doesn’t look that much better. “If you were that big while soft, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed by now.”

Well that catches his attention. A smug smile stretches across his face. All teeth. “You spend a lot of time looking at it, angel?” Oh, this time he’s definitely mocking you. The palms of his hands slide up your thighs until his fingertips graze the hem of your skirt where it’s hiked partway up your legs, revealing a few tantalizing inches of your bare skin.

“Oh, no, you aren’t changing the subject,” you snap at him, sitting up a little straighter. “Why the hell is your dick so big, and what the fuck is going on?”

Your questions echo awkwardly through the otherwise silent room. For a tense moment, Bakugou just glares up at you. One of his eyes twitches slightly, his lips turned down in a grimace. You don’t relent, glaring right back at him. Eventually, one of you is going to have to give in, and it’s sure as shit not going to be you this time.

“Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head back against the floor. His fingers bite into your thighs when you shift on top of him, leaning a little closer. “It’s that dumbass villain’s quirk,” he sneers, baring his teeth in a snarl as he opens his eyes again. There’s nothing that could possibly prepare you for what he says next. “When I lie my cock gets bigger.”

You almost laugh. Almost. The deathly serious look in his eyes is the only thing that keeps you from bursting into a fit of giggles. And you believe him. You probably wouldn’t if you weren’t currently straddling his lap and sitting on his abnormally large cock. But, yeah. Sure. His dick gets bigger when he lies, and somehow that makes perfect sense.

“What, like some kind of kinky lie detector?” You almost suggest Pinocchio, but you doubt he’d take that well at all. 

Predictably, he makes a face at your comparison. “Sure. Whatever.”

Again, neither of you say anything, letting an awkward silence develop between you. While Bakugou just looks all around uncomfortable with the situation, your brow is pinched in thought. Honestly, this quirk seems like some bullshit. You can’t imagine what benefit anyone would get out of making someone’s dick grow when they lie, aside from the exact situation you’re currently in. You almost feel worse for the poor sap stuck with such a bizarre quirk than the Pro Hero currently lying between your legs.

A full body shiver runs through you, and every nerve suddenly becomes highly aware of the man beneath you. Every breath he takes moves his chest beneath your hands, and you can feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath your palm. The tips of his fingers ghost against your thighs, not quite touching you, like he isn’t sure what to do with his hands anymore. And, suddenly, all you can think about are those hands grabbing you by the hips and grinding you down against him.

Unbeknownst to you, similar thoughts are wreaking havoc on Bakugou. From where you’re sitting on top of him, he has a perfect view of your legs and chest, and every time you shift, the movement goes straight to his cock. He almost hisses between his teeth as your thighs tighten around his hips, which only presses the growing bulge in his pants harder against you. His fingers twitch against your legs. It would be so easy for him to roll the two of you over, pin you beneath him, and show you exactly what you do to him. Fuck you senseless until you—

“What are you thinking right now?”

The question is like a hard slap across the face. His eyes snap from the apex of your legs to your face, caught red-handed. There’s no way for him to get out of this one without his dick giving him away or an actual slap across the face. He chooses his traitor dick. “That I want you to get the fuck off me.”

You look entirely unimpressed when his dick moves between your legs, growing larger in seconds. “Liar,” you deadpan. You drum your fingers against his chest, unintentionally matching the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Tell me the truth and maybe I’ll move.” Nevermind that he could definitely throw you across the room one handed if he really wanted to. Frankly, you’re a little surprised he hasn’t already, given your current situation. 

Not that you want to move right now. You’re quite comfortable where you are.

Bakugou’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip. Those ruby eyes drag down your body slowly, shamelessly drinking in the sight of you sitting on top of him. An unexpected lick of run runs along your spine; your breath catches. “You look really fucking sexy right now,” he tells you, and his hands grab your thighs again.

It takes a second for you to register his confession, though you can’t say you’re that surprised. “Huh. Never pegged you as a guy who wanted someone on top.” You can work with that.

His brow furrows. “You know, you’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“I work in quirk registration for the police,” you remind him, shrugging. “This isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve come across.” Honestly, you aren’t even sure it makes the top ten, but you keep that to yourself. You get the feeling he’d take that as some kind of challenge, and you don’t need that kind of stress in your life. “How long has it been like this?”

A shrug. “Shit, I don’t know.” Bakugou shifts beneath you, craning his neck to look at the clock on the wall. “Thirty minutes, maybe. Why?”

“Effects from quirks like this typically only last an hour or two,” you explain. “Maybe twenty-four hours at most, depending on how much training the user has.” Your head cocks to the side as you give him an entirely unsubtle once-over. “It sounds like he didn’t give you and Kirishima much trouble though. I’d put your... little problem at an hour and a half maximum. You should be fine.”

There’s a wicked look in his eyes. “Nothing little about it, babe.” His palms slide up your legs, rucking up your skirt even higher on his way to grab your hips. “Hour left, huh?” A low hum rumbles through his chest. “I can work with that.”

You freeze. “Katsuki, what are you—”

“Look,” he cuts you off with an irritated sigh, “I’ve liked you for a long time, so if you want to fuck right now, that’s fine with me.” Heartbreaking honesty shines in his eyes, only partially masked by a layer of annoyance and boredom, like he doesn’t care either way. The way his fingers dig into your hips tells a different story.

Your eyes widen at his crass confession, your lips parting as you stare down at Bakugou in shock. “Are you…” you hesitate, swallowing down the sudden lump in your throat as your fingers curl against his shirt. “Are you serious?”

Bakugou glares at you, but his faint blush gives him away. “You’re the one sitting on my magic cock, you tell me.”

You sit there for a good minute, just staring at him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of any kind of response. Eventually, you settle on, “That is, by far, the worst declaration of love I’ve ever heard.”

If you thought he was glaring before, it has nothing on the look he levels you with now. “Who fucking said anything about loving you, dumbass?” he snaps, huffing, cheeks turning an even darker shade of pink. “Like hell I do!” He grits his teeth as his dick tingles.

“Yeah, well, your magic cock reveals your deceit,” you mock him. “You’re such an emotionally stunted pain in the ass, Katsuki!” 

He opens his mouth—probably to start yelling about something—but you lurch forward and meet his mouth in a fierce kiss before he can say anything. He grunts in surprise and squeeze your hips, but kisses you back eagerly, immediately tilting his chin for a better angle. The hands that were on your hips don’t hesitate to move. One slides up your back to fist in your hair, pulling you closer as the other drops to your ass. A hard grope makes you gasp against his lips, your fingers clenching tighter in the front of his hero suit.

Before things can get too heavy, too fast, you pull back, leaving just an inch of space between your lips. He doesn’t let you go much further. “I like you, too,” you whisper against him. He stiffens as your fingers touch his bare chest where his hero suit doesn’t cover him.

His heart is pounding just as quickly as yours, and he’d never admit it, but he swears your little confession does something funny to his chest. All of it does. The heat of your breath. The gentle weight of your body on top of his. Something about you makes him feel inexplicably soft, and he wants to hate that feeling, but he still can’t lie to himself without his cock growing two sizes. And if he’s going to stuff you full of his cock, he wants it to be all him.

At least at first.

With the hand still tangled in your hair, Bakugou yanks you back down. Your lips mold against his perfectly, the space left between you nonexistent. When he kisses you it’s all teeth and tongue, and your lips part readily beneath his demanding touch. He makes a low sound of approval in the back of his throat, slotting his lips harder against yours. Using the hand cupping the back of your head, he adjusts you above him, tilting your chin until he finds a position he likes.

The dominating way he touches you makes you keen, and your quiet whimper is smothered by his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you. Your legs tremble on either side of his hips as the hand on your ass gropes you again. By now, your skirt is hiked halfway up your waist, and if anyone were to walk in they’d get a perfect view of your ass and the damp spot forming between your thighs.

You arch into his touch at the thought, moaning as his teeth tug at your lip.

By the time you pull away, you both have kiss-swollen lips.

When Bakugou recalls what you called him a moment ago, he chuckles, deep and throaty, and it sends a thrilled shiver up your spine. “I’ll show you a real pain in the ass later, sweetheart,” he promises, squeezing your ass cheek for good measure. The squeeze is followed by a sharp slap, and you lurch forward, a startled squeal slipping out of your mouth.

You glare down at him. Well, you try to. It’s a little hard to pretend to be mad at him when his hand comes up to rub the spot where he smacked you, which only presses your hips closer to his growing bulge. Your tone is dry when you say, “I’m sure you will.” And then, because he’s already propositioned you and has his hand on your ass, you grind yourself against his dick.

“Shit,” he grunts, grabbing your hips. His fingers bite into your skin, twitching like he doesn’t know if he wants to still you or shove you down on his cock. A slow exhale hisses through his teeth. “You tryin’ to be a cock tease?”

The satisfaction that bubbles up in you only feeds the damp heat between your legs. He’s hardly touched you, but you can already feel yourself getting wet just from the thought of him filling you. You brace yourself against him, palms pressed flat against his chest. “You want me to stop?” Purposefully fluttering your eyelashes at him, you slowly work your hand lower, fingers grazing over lean muscle until you stop at his waist, pressing down on his belt.

As your eyes start to follow the path of your hand, Bakugou reaches out and grabs your chin. A warning squeeze makes you mewl expectantly. “Keep talking, baby, and I'll put that mouth to better use.” The pad of his thumb traces your bottom lip. Before he can let go, you tilt your head into his touch, teeth barely grazing his finger as you nip at him. “Such a little brat,” he sneers. 

You’re thrown off balance when he sits up. His abdominal muscles flex against your stomach as he crushes you against his chest, and your hands fly to his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto. Bakugou kisses you again, lips hungry and demanding as they press against yours, and you give him complete control. He tilts your chin, pulls your hair, bites your lips, and every touch makes you feel hazy and warm.

Anticipation churns in your stomach. Your hands slide over his shoulders, looping around his neck. He grunts when your wrist brushes against the side of his neck, and when you card your fingers through his hair and tug, he lets out a sound that goes right to your core.

The hand on your ass gives you another sharp spank. The motion jerks your hips against his, and you grind down against the hard cock rubbing your inner thigh. His fingers knead your ass and the back of your thigh, groping and squeezing and helping your hips along as you rock languidly over his lap. Each roll of your hips has his cock dragging across your damp panties, the head kissing your clit through the layers of your clothes. You shudder, lost in the feeling.

You’re only half aware of him moving, not noticing until the hand that was in your hair slips beneath your shirt to palm your breast. An appreciative squeeze has you arching into him, hips stuttering against his. Bakugou nips at your bottom lip hard enough to make you whimper, and when he pulls away you’re sure it’s swollen and flushed from his treatment.

But he doesn’t leave you for long. You’re barely given a moment to breathe before his mouth is on your jaw, your cheek, your chin. Bakugou trails heated, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, only stopping when he finds a spot that has you lurching against him, a pretty little moan falling from your mouth. He laves attention to that spot, right over your racing pulse. Teeth dig into your sensitive neck, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to suck, intent on leaving a mark. You don’t stop him as he works a hickey just below your jaw, eyes fluttering shut at the onslaught of sensation. 

Before leaving that spot, he drags his tongue across your neck to soothe the bruise he’s left behind.

Desire curls in your chest as a thought comes to mind, and you’re too slow to stop it from spilling out. “I wanna touch you,” you choke out as his mouth trails lower. Bakugou pauses, lips hovering just shy of your throat. The heat of his breath fans your damp skin, sending little pinpricks of electricity all the way to where your hips are grinding against his. You swallow, one hand fisting in the back of his shirt as his thumb brushes against the lacy cup of your bra.

“Already are, baby,” he says, partly muffled by your neck as he ghosts his lips against you. “Grinding against my cock like a little slut. Gonna get yourself off for me just like that?” He’s hiding a smirk. It’s clear what you want by the way your hips roll against his faster, grinding down harder as teasing touches turn desperate, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you begging for his cock before he fucks you.

He ruts against you, alternating between squeezing your breast and ass. 

“Bakugou!” You try to sound reprimanding, but his name comes out as a breathy whine. There’s no way for you to get your hand on him with the way he has you pressed flush against his chest. And he’s definitely not going to make things easy for you.

As if he knows what you’re thinking, the man beneath you laughs. “You want it that bad, you better take it yourself, sweetheart.”

Huffing, you try to put some space between your hips, but his grip is firm. Bakugou swats your ass when you try to move, and you whimper as it forces your hips harder against his. You try a second time, and he pinches your nipple through the flimsy cup of your bra. Your head falls back with a moan, giving him greater access to your throat, and he smirks as he bites down on your soft skin.

Fine. You can play this game, too.

With a sharp grind of your hips, you rub your clit against him just right. Your back arches. Your thighs tense around his hips. “Ground Zero,” comes out as a needy whine against his ear. You feel him tense beneath you, his grip faltering for just a second. That’s all you need.

The momentary distraction is all you need to slide back on his thighs, putting just enough space between your hips to grab his belt and grind the heel of your hand against the massive bulge straining against his pants. Even through his pants you can feel how thick and long he is, and your pussy clenches at the thought of him fucking you senseless.

He grunts as you palm him, squeezing gently as you trace the outline of his cock. His mouth leaves your neck with a wet pop. “Shit,” Bakugou murmurs. Soft strands of his spiky hair tickle the side of your neck as he rests his head against you, reveling in the feel of your light touches.

Your fingers brush against the back of his neck, your palm grinding against him when his hips rock forward. Strong muscles flex beneath your thighs. Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow. 

Unable to stop yourself, you duck your head, pressing your lips against the side of his neck. It’s hard to find an angle with the bracers around his neck, and your attention turns to the front of his throat instead. Bakugou groans as you kiss him, lovebites and lipstick stains left in the wake of your mouth. He lets you kiss and nip your way down to his collarbone.

Thank god for the low cut of his shirt, you think, biting down on his chest hard enough to leave a mark. At the same time, your fingers grasp at his belt, nearly snapping the buckle in your hurry to get your hand on him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware of him saying something—calling you needy or naughty, you aren’t sure which—but you don’t care as you finally get your hand in his pants and grab his dick.

“You’re so big,” you murmur, eyes widening. The tips of your fingers don’t touch as you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him languidly from base to tip. You can’t get a good look at him from your position, but you can feel every ridge and vein of his shaft, and you bite your lip at the sheer girth of him. “Is this from the quirk?” you ask him, swirling your thumb over the tip before dragging your hand back down, giving him a firm squeeze. You lean back a little, wanting to look at him, but Bakugou lurches forward to get his mouth on you again.

He groans against your ear, pressing a harsh kiss against the side of your jaw. “All me, babe,” he tells you, smug. For once, you really can’t blame him for being cocky. “Fuck, that feels good.” 

The way your soft hand slides against his shaft wrecks havoc on his brain, and Bakugou presses another heated kiss to your neck to smother a loud moan. He’s already painfully sensitive from having you hump his lap, and your tentative touch only makes him harder. And that damn quirk didn’t help at all. After over a half hour of that bullshit cock tease, he’s just aching to bury himself in your dripping pussy.

Your thumb traces the thick vein on the side of his cock, pressing against it gently before twisting your hand. The sudden change in angle and the way you squeeze him have a low sound tearing from his chest, and then your hand is being yanked out of his pants. Bakugou’s fingers clench around your wrist in a vice grip, and you wince at the mild sting.

“Get up,” he demands, nearly growling. His fingers are digging into your ass hard enough to leave faint bruises, but you don’t care. When you hesitate, he releases you only to slap the back of your thigh. “Now.”

You pussy clenches at the pain that quickly dissolves into pleasure. “What’s wrong, Katsuki,” you can’t help but tease, hoping to get a reaction out of him, “afraid you’ll cum too fast?”

He doesn’t spank you again, though his palm does press against your reddening ass cheek in a way that speaks of a warning. “Don’t make me tell you again, baby.”

It takes another second before you shift off his lap, your legs quivering as you stand. You almost consider ignoring the command. Almost. But it doesn’t take much for you to decide you’d rather see what he has planned for you.

Your thighs rub together as Bakugou rises from the floor in one fluid motion, years of training making him silent, almost catlike. He reaches for you as soon as he’s standing, towering over you, an imposing figure. The scattering of small marks on his throat makes you grin, but the smile is wiped from your face as he grabs your chin roughly between his fingers and forces you to meet his eyes.

Ruby red and blown wide with lust, the look in his sharp gaze makes your breathing hitch. A wet crackling sound leaves your mouth as your lips part for him. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Such a dirty fucking mouth,” he growls.

You stumble a little as he starts walking you backwards, not touching you aside from the firm grip he has on your jaw. You go willingly, eyes on his. Excitement has your stomach flipping, a nervous flutter in your belly, and you gasp when your back hits the side of his desk, the cold wood pressing against your skin where he’s tugged at the hem of your shirt. 

Bakugou’s thumb delves past your lips, dipping into your wet mouth, and your lips wrap around him greedily. Sucking gently, your teeth press against his skin possessively, tongue laving attention to his thick digit. With his free hand, Bakugou grabs the front of your plain blouse and yanks it open, careful not to rip any of the buttons. You let your shirt fall to the floor, wriggling a little as it sticks around your elbows. He reaches up to palm your breast, humming in approval once he sees your pretty bra.

“Get on your knees, baby,” he tells you, pulling his thumb from your mouth and smearing your spit across your lips, watching them glisten. “I want to see your mouth on my cock.”

You do as you’re told, practically shaking with anticipation as you drop to your knees for him. Now that you’ve gotten a feel for his cock, you’re desperate to have him inside you. Your mouth. Your pussy. It doesn’t matter which. Any thoughts of playing coy or being a brat disappear into the back of your mind as he pins you with a harsh stare. Bakugou pets your hair, threading the soft strands through his fingers to hold you still. 

You bite your lip as his free hand drops to his waist, Bakugou shoving his pants and boxers down just low enough for his cock to spring free. The size makes you swallow. He’s bigger than you thought. Thicker. And you remember how your hand couldn’t wrap all the way around him. Your thighs clench, rubbing together as a dull ache builds between your legs.

He doesn’t waste his time. Shifting forward, he palms himself, lazily stroking his cock with his own fingers, just out of your reach. When you try to lean forward, he pulls your hair, forcing you back again. “Such a little slut,” he murmurs, allowing the head of his cock to press against your wet lips, his hips slowly rocking back and forth. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, and he groans. “There you go,” he says, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from your face before he starts pushing his cock into your mouth.

You immediately close your lips around him, bobbing your head forward as much as his tight grip will let you. Bakugou feeds you his cock, sliding into your wet mouth slowly as you start to suck, letting you adjust to just how fucking thick he really is. His girth has your jaw stretched wide, forcing you to breathe slowly through your nose. You glance up at him.

“That’s it, angel,” he groans as you bob your head again, “suck my cock.” His hips rock forward in a shallow thrust; his eyes lock on your lips, stretched obscenely around his length. Wet trails of saliva stick to his cock as you pull back to swirl your tongue around the head. 

Whimpering around him, you suck harder, swallowing around him, anything that might pull another filthy moan from his mouth. Your hands grab his thighs for balance, your fingers digging into his legs as you try to pull him closer.

You’re rewarded with a low moan rumbling from his chest. Bakugou’s eyes slip shut for a second, his head tilting back in raw pleasure. “Figures you'd be a perfect little cock sucker,” he says under his breath, almost too low for you to hear him. “I bet you want me to fuck your face, huh, baby?”

You settle for moaning instead of nodding, watching him through your eyelashes as he pants above you. 

“Fuck.” A long, hissing exhale escapes through his teeth, and his hand tightens in your hair just a little bit as he watches you work his cock. You look so fucking pretty with your mouth wrapped around him, your lips slick with saliva as you take him deeper into your mouth. There are tears beading at the corners of your eyes. “Fuck,” he says again, “you feel so good.” He grunts. “How long have you been thinkin’ about sucking my cock, babe?”

You flush under his gaze, unable to answer with your mouth full of his dick, but the answer must be clear as day on your face. You don’t know what it is he’s thinking about, but you swear his cock gets bigger in your mouth, that strange quirk making him thicker so that you’re nearly choking on him.

Bakugou holds your head still as he starts to rock his hips; he moves slowly at first, his thrusts shallow and even, but he quickly picks up speed when you whine around his cock. It isn’t long before he’s fucking your mouth, thrusts as rough as you’d expect from someone like him. His cockhead brushes against the back of your throat, his hips stuttering as he holds you like that, your lips pressed nearly against the base of his cock.

Somehow, you manage to keep your eyes on him. You force your throat to relax and swallow around him. His eyes almost roll back at the sensation, but he keeps his ruby gaze locked on you, watching how well you take him. He can only imagine how good you’re going to take his cock, too. He speeds up again, groaning as the pressure in his gut starts to build.

His cock pulls from your mouth with a wet sound, and you cough, sucking in greedy mouthfuls of air. Bakugou drags you off the floor, and your startled gasp is cut off by his hand wrapping around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, unfortunately, just holds his palm there. The next thing you know, you’re being shoved against the nearest wall, your cheek pressed to the chilly surface as Bakugou all but rips off your skirt, leaving you in just your underwear and shoes. 

The fabric pools on the floor in a crumpled heap, and Bakugou kicks it aside in order to spread your legs from behind. You brace your hands against the wall, ass out, and he’s on you in a second.

Teasing is thrown out the window as he finally—finally—touches you. One of his hands reaches around you to grope your chest, palming your breast roughly before shoving the cup of your bra aside to tweak and pinch your nipple. You’re a panting, whining mess by the time he gets his hand between your legs. Two thick fingers drag over the crotch of your panties, and he actually laughs when he feels how wet you are. “Shit, you get that horny just from sucking my cock?”

Blearily, you nod, pressing your pussy closer to his hand. Bakugou shoves your panties to the side, fingers skimming through your wetness before rolling over your clit. You nearly sob at how good it feels to have him touch you. It’s like his hands were meant to please you, big and rough, his calloused fingers providing the perfect amount of friction. Each precise stroke of his fingers feeds the knot in your belly, keeping you right on the edge of coming undone.

“You’re gonna feel so fucking good on my cock,” he tells you removing his fingers from your clit to squeeze your ass. His cock quickly replaces his hand between your thighs, his thick length rubbing against your slick pussy, the head bumping against your clit with every stroke. Bakugou lets go of your breast; his hand slaps against the wall beside your head for balance. “Pretty cunt squeezing around me. That what you want?”

“Please. Oh, please,” you mumble. Anything to get him inside you. It almost hurts how turned on you are right now. From the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the hem of his shirt, about to pull it off. “Don’t!”

Bakugou goes absolutely still at your sharp cry. The only movement is his eyes snapping up to meet yours, flooded with concern as he checks to see if he’s hurting you.

But you whimper, trying to shove yourself back on his cock. “Don’t take it off,” you clarify breathlessly, legs quivering with the effort of holding yourself up.

The concern bleeds from his eyes, and they’re taken over by something dark and hungry instead as he realizes what you mean. He thrusts his cock between your thighs, your slick covering his cock as it drips from you. Your eyes flutter as he pressed against your clit again. “Don’t take what off?” He wants to hear you say it.

And you’re so painfully aroused that the words come spilling out of your mouth before you can stop him. “Your costume,” you choke out around a loud moan. “I want you to fuck me while you’re wearing your costume.” That’s one dirty little fantasy you’ve had for a while, maybe ever since you met him. The thought of him fucking you while he’s still in costume is almost too much, but god do you want it badly.

“That so?” he drawls. His hand drops from his shirt back to your ass cheek, groping you before spreading you from behind. He takes a step back, ignoring your whine, and whistles when he gets a good look at your dripping slit. Bakugou tugs your hips back, forcing your back to arch for him. “What a naughty little slut. You got a thing for heroes, baby?”

Just you, you think, but all you can do is moan his name. “Bakugou.”

You cry out as he slaps your ass. “No, no, no,” he repremends. “That's not what you call me.”

“Katsuki, please,” you manage to whine around a harsh swallow.

He spanks you again. “Come on, angel, you know what to say.” It takes a second for it to click, but when it does you blush. “Fuck, look how wet you are.” He chuckles as he looks at your glistening thighs. Another love tap lands on your reddening ass. “You like it when I spank you?”

“Yes,” you mewl.

He spreads your legs open wider. “Yes, what?”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, cheek pressed against the wall in front of you. “Yes, Ground Zero.” Your tongue runs across your bottom lip. “Sir,” you tack on.

“Good girl.” 

There’s no warning as he adjusts himself behind you, cock slamming into you hard enough to steal your breath. There’s no resistance, you're so wet. You pussy clenches around him, your walls sucking him in deeper. That’s all it takes for an orgasm to rip through you, the knot in your belly snapping so fast that all you can do is let out a silent scream as you slump forward against the wall.

Bakugou is equal parts shocked and amused as you try to milk his cock, and he grits his teeth as his dick twitches inside of you, almost pulling him over with you. “Fuck,” he laughs. “You cum just from me filling you up?” You whimper and nod. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” 

He presses you closer to the wall, and his arm slips beneath your knee, lifting your leg and holding you open. Your thigh burns from the stretch. His cock drags along your walls slowly before, only the tip left inside before he thrusts back into you, reaching deeper.

He picks up a steady pace, slamming into you over and over. You’re already so sensitive from your first orgasm, and little gasps and whines keep falling from your mouth with every brutal thrust as Bakugou finds your sweet spot, hitting it perfectly as he pounds you. He’s thick and hard inside you, even bigger than he was in your mouth, and your eyes widen when you realize he’s doing it on purpose. “How big can you get?” you gasp, moaning as his cock expands inside you, filling you up completely.

“As big as you fucking want me,” he snarls back, fucking you faster, hiking your leg up higher.

All you can do is hold on and take it.

You don’t know how much time passes, the only sounds are your heavy breathing and his harsh panting against your ear. Sweat drips down your back where he’s sliding over you, and his fingers bite into your thigh as he almost loses his grip. “You know whose office is on the other side of this wall?” he asks suddenly. “Answer me, baby!” A particularly harsh thrust follows the demand.

“No, Sir,” you pant.

“Fucking Deku.” He grits his teeth as that now familiar tingle goes right to his cock, but you don’t seem to notice the lie. “You think he’s in there right now? His desk is right on the other side.” You pussy squeezes around him, and Bakugou moans against the side of your neck. “I bet he can hear you in here panting like a whore as I fuck your slutty little cunt.”

Your back arches into him, the revelation reigniting the fire he lit inside you. That knot comes back, just as tight as before, and you tremble as you realize he’s going to make you cum again. “Ground Zero,” you whine.

He lets go of your thigh, but keeps your knee hooked around his elbow. His hand snakes around your hips to rub your clit, and you jerk against him. “He’s got some new intern, too. Some little high school brat.” A high-pitched, needy sound falls from your mouth. “Fuck, you sound so pretty when you moan my name.” He rolls your clit harder between his fingers, and the heat rolling from him is so sweltering that it’s hard to breathe. “Shit, you’re gonna be filling this kid’s fantasies for weeks. He’s probably gettin’ off to you right now.” His cock gets bigger inside you; his hips grind against you harder. “But your pussy’s mine, angel. Got that?”

You nod, delirious.

And, fuck, he just doesn’t stop talking. “You gonna cum?” he asks, fingers moving faster over your clit. “Gonna cum from thinking about Deku and his intern listening to me fuck you?” You shudder and gasp, shoving yourself back on his cock in a weak attempt to match his brutal pace. “That’s it, baby, cum on my fat cock. Let everyone know who’s making you feel so good. I wanna hear you scream so fucking loud that everyone in this goddamn building knows my name.”

Bakugou pinches your clit. Your eyes slam shut, body locking up as he throws you into another powerful climax. “Katsuki!” you shriek, his name ripping from your throat in a raw scream.

This time, he doesn’t hold himself back. A series of harsh thrusts drag out your orgasm until you’re sobbing, a few tears slipping out and rolling down your cheeks. His cock twitches, swelling, and he shoves inside of you as deep as he can go before cumming inside you, his thick seed filling you up and dripping down your thigh.

He doesn’t pull out, leaning his head against your shoulder as you both try and catch your breath. Bliss washes over you as he kisses your neck, mumbling a string of garbled praises against your ear.

You blush when something he said hits you full force, finally able to process it now that he’s not fucking you senseless. “Midoriya,” you gasp, trying to crane your head around to look at him.

Bakugou presses more of his weight against your back, slowly lowering your leg back to the floor. His hands grasp your hips when your legs threaten to collapse beneath you. “Bastards office is on the other wall,” he says, calming you down. “‘Sides, it’s his day off.”

Relief floods through you. “You have absolutely no filter, do you?”

He shrugs, kissing across your cheek. “I don’t see you complainin’.”

You laugh a little breathlessly. “You made me cum twice,” you remind him. “I don’t give a shit what you were saying.” You shift in his embrace, wincing as his cock moves inside you. Fuck, you’re sensitive.

He stills you. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asks. When he sees your obviously confused look, he gives you a shallow thrust, his cock still hard inside you. “Oh, angel, we’ve still got thirty minutes, right? We’re just getting started.”

[httpdabi]

My pet

Genre: romance, smut, normal AU with no quirks, university!reader x professor! Dabi,

Summary: Maybe skipping his class wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, the detention could wait for some other time, not like you weren’t getting sick of it anyway.

Words: 6.8k

Warnings: 18+, praise kink, bit of fingering in public place, semi public sex, unprotected sex, creampie.

Taking a deep breath you tried to calm yourself down a little. From all the papers, you had to lose the one from Professors Aizawa’s classes, which was pretty important. And the fact that he had a pretty big dislike of you didn’t help either, since you were sure that he will nag about it a whole moth or give you little to no time to write it again.

Rolling your eyes, you collected all the papers on the floor, putting them in one box, accepted the fact that your paper is nowhere to be found. With a big sigh you stood up and poured the hot coffee in your cup to go, before you took your bag from the floor and left your apartment.

You weren’t in the mood for Uni today, but at least you had only few classes, which meant you won’t spend much time there.

You checked your phone one last time, before you locked the door and hurried downstairs to catch your bus. Using the app, you always checked when will the bus arrive, giving yourself 5 minutes to catch it. This time you went out a bit earlier, since Aizawa’s class was the first one. After all you didn’t have the paper done, you couldn’t afford yourself more shit with being late.

,,Fuck’’ you hissed when you saw the bus already on the bus stop. You were about to run, but once you noticed all the people squished in it, you couldn’t force yourself to do it. After all, you were never sporty, every time you had to run to catch the bus, he would simply speed off and leave you half dead on the bus stop. Yeah, you had a condition of a dead horse.

,,I’ll be a bit late’’

you texted your best friend Mina as you sat on the small waiting bench. The next bus will arrive in 8 Minutes, which was enough time for you to smoke one. Upset about everything, you smoked your cigarette almost aggressively, puffing on it like it was your last one.

You don’t run. There is always a possibility that you will die if you run. So, it’s better if you come a bit late, then not at all. You thought to yourself.

Some people don’t come to the classes at all and no one gives a shit, yet you are worried about some stupid paper and being late.

When the bus arrived, you turned the cigarette off and got inside, finding yourself an empty seat as you hopped into it. Momo texted you that Aizawa is not even there and that maybe there’s a chance you’ll arrive before him.

Of course there’s no chance you’ll be able to do it, since the bus driver took his time driving. You were sure they had something against you. When you are trying to catch a bus, they suddenly turn into Formula 1 drivers as they speed off, but when you are inside of the bus, they follow every possible rule and drive so slow.

The moment you arrived, you walked pretty fast surprisingly, every second step you took, you tried to force yourself to run. You tried to push yourself between the students that had their best time in the fucking hallway of the Uni. Most of them giving you a weird looks as you started to run for the first time, upstairs.

Opening the door of the huge class, you stood there confused. The man standing there wasn’t Aizawa, so you looked around to check if the classroom was the correct one. It was. Scanning the room, you saw Momo in the last row giggling at you. Giving the man one last look, you made your way to your best friend.

,, You didn’t check your messages, did you?’’ She whispered quietly, as you hopped between her and Mina. Shaking your head you took out your notebook and placed it on the table, while Momo explained to you what’s going on.

So, Aizawa had some problems which forced him to be absent for the next 6 months, making his assistant Touya Todoroki take over his classes.

The three of you chit chatted quietly, as your new so called Professor was calling out your names to mark the list. Like in high school, you thought to your self as you put your hand up when your last name was called. Professor Aizawa never did that, one look was enough for him to notice who is absent and who’s not.

Everyone knew Touya Todoroki. He was around your age, and that made students a little bit more comfortable around him. You heard that he finished Uni one or two years ago, being one of the top students. Being that smart, and Aizawa’s one of favorites, they gave him the chance to work there as his assistant.

In your opinion, joking around with the students wasn’t really smart of him, since there’s always a possibility that they won’t take him seriously later on. But hey, maybe you were wrong.

Once the introduction was done, and he said enough about himself and all the plans Aizawa had for the next 6 months, he said that he’ll call your names out in alphabetical order, for you to give him your paper and sign the list he prepared for it.

You felt a bit uneasy when you realized that till now, all of them had their work finished and the possibility that you’re the only one that didn’t have it made your stomach twist.

When your name was called out, you thought about some lies you could tell him, none of them good enough.

,,I’ve lost it’’ you breathed out as you clapped your hands and slowly nodded your head. He gave you the ‘’are you serious’’ look as you stood there embarrassed a bit.

,,Is that even possible ?’’ he asked as he raised his brow at you, eying you out while you played with your fingers nervously.

,, Obviously, it is’’ you said, crossing your arms on your chest. What kind of question is that even? People come here and lie about their test being eaten by their pets, yet your honest and sad excuse was suspicious to him.

,, When is the next date ?’’ you added, hoping he’ll give you enough time to write it again.

,,Tomorrow’’ he said, not even looking at you.

,, WHAT ?’’ a scream escaped your lips, loud enough for everyone in the class to hear and look at you. Is this dude insane ? Even tho Aizawa didn’t like you, he would still give you maybe a week to finish it.

,,Take it or leave it’’ he said, with a small smile formed on his lips, like he didn’t just tell you to do something impossible. Rolling your eyes shamelessly, you turned around and made your way toward your seat, where Momo and Mina waited excitedly to ask you what happened and so on.

The moment your last class finished, you had to cancel all of your plans, making your way home immediately after it. That day, you couldn’t even afford yourself to make a lunch or dinner, since every second and minute counted. The only food for you was coffee and cigarettes that day.

The good thing was, that you remembered lots of things you already wrote, but sadly, the paper wasn’t really small, forcing you to write and write without taking even a small break.

You hoped that you’ll finish it till 11PM, since your first class started early in the morning, at 7 AM. Sadly your big hope sank like Titanic when you checked what time it was when you almost finished your paper.

It was fucking 3:37 AM.

That disgusting motherfucker, you thoguht to yourself, as you imagined how great it would feel if you had the possibility to break his fucking tattooed neck.

The moment you heard the alarm, you wished you were dead. If someone placed a gun on your forehead at that moment, you would probably beg him to shoot you. Taking more time then usual, you found yourself being late again. This time you didn’t give a single shit about it. You didn’t give a shit about looking like half dead bird, with your hair tied up in way too messy bun and dark circles under your eyes.

Stomping into the classroom, you didn’t bother to look or greet anyone, forcing yourself to sit in the first row, since more students remembered that they actually go to Uni and suddenly decided that today is the best day to show up. Mina and Momo didn’t sit close to each other or to you either, since the class was unusually much fuller.

Grabbing your phone out of your pocked, once it started to vibrate, you saw that Mina and Momo were writing shit in your little group chat.

,, Are we having this piece of shit all day?’’

you texted, ignoring the topic they were writing about.

,, Yeah, we’ll have one and half hour break in between, and then him again. I don’t mind it tho. Dude’s handsome as fuck’’

Mina replied, making you roll your eyes.

,, Handsome as fuck my ass. Bro looks like random junkie from the main train station’’

you tapped furiously sending the message, scrolling down your Instagram feed, not even bothering to look at him, when he called your name out when he checked the absence list.

,,No phone in my class’’ he said loud enough, when he noticed it. Ignoring his statement, you just continued to use your phone. It’s not his problem if you are using your phone, it’s not his fucking problem if you decide not to follow his class and fail it at the end. Sure, if you were interrupting the class, then it would make some sense. But since you didn’t interrupt him or anyone, it shouldn’t bother him at all.

In one moment, you had your phone in your hands, the next one it was snatched from your hands. Looking up, you saw him standing in front of the desk you sat in, with your phone in his hands, scanning the room if anyone else was using it too. Both Mina and Momo hid their phones fast, when they realized what just happened.

He stood there quietly as he did something on your phone. The only thing you could see was his thumb scrolling something on your phone up. Whatever it was, he had no fucking right to do it and it made your blood boil.

,, There is something called privacy, you sick fuck’’ you hissed loudly. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the fact that you had less then one day to finish your paper, but you couldn’t stop yourself from insulting him. The moment you spat those words, you felt his eyes on yours. You noticed a small smirk formed on his lips as he turned your phone off.

,, You just got yourself in detention Miss.’’ He said, as he placed his phone on his desk ignoring your complains.

At that point you weren’t sure if he got all the dislike on you from Aizawa, or if you had that kind of personality that made people easily dislike you. Sure, maybe you overacted and embarrassed yourself in front of the whole class, but in your defense, he didn’t have the right to do it. None of the students were children. All of you had the right to decide on your own if you will pay attention to the class or not.

When the first class was done, Mina and Momo came to you immediately, eyes wide in shock as they talked about what just happened. The two of them waited for you beside the door, as you took your finished paper and made your way toward his desk.

He pushed your phone from the end of the desk toward your direction, as he told your friends that there’s no need to wait for you. Confused, they left immediately, not wanting to pull themselves into troubler or give you more of it.

,, Sit down’’ he said, as you stood there confused as well, gripping tightly onto your paper. Being a bit lost, you didn’t follow him immediately, standing there totally lost.

,, Sit the fuck down’’ he repeated, this time a little louder. You sat there, eyes wide open in shock. Sure, he started off as someone that looked like all of your classes would be fun with him, but with todays actions, and the small amount of time he gave you, definitely changed the view of him to the rest of the students. To you even more, since his sudden behavior wasn’t really pleasing.

,, Paper’’ he simply said, as he tapped with his hand on his desk. You gave it to him immediately, not sure if you are allowed to leave or not, also unsure if you can take your phone or not anymore.

,,Good, now go clean the desks or whatever’’ he said as he took your paper, scanning it a little bit.

,, You gotta be kidding me’’ you laughed. This dude has some serious issues, you thought to yourself. ,, We ain’t in fucking high school’’ you hissed. You were about to grab your phone, but his hand stopped you, as he grabbed your wrist with his left hand.

Without saying another word, he just shook his head towards the direction where the small bucket was. Usually prepared for the Cleaning lady that does her job once the class is over.

You wanted to make even more drama, and curse him out instead of apologizing for interrupting his class, but at that moment you didn’t have the balls for it. First of all, because you were pretty sure he was in contact with Prof. Aizawa all the time, and second, it was already clear enough that he dislikes you more then Aizawa does.

You took a deep breath, as you prepared the water. Hoping he will let you go soon, since everyone else is already on the break and if you were being honest, you were getting pretty hungry.

The whole time, he just ignored you as he was correcting your paper. He already corrected the paper the rest of the class turned in, so he wanted you to have your note too. Aizawa told him about you, never paying attention to the class and appearing just to avoid the shit you could get for missing the classes. He heard enough about all of you, and he wanted to make sure none of you will misunderstand him just because of his young age. Starting of with you, and giving one good example to everyone else. Sure, it wasn’t very nice of him to give you less then one day to finish your paper, but only you were the one without it, and he didn’t want to wait too long for it and make you lose the little focus you had on the rest of the class. He was pretty sure you would mostly focus on the paper you had to write, ignoring the other stuff he prepared.

You took your time cleaning the desks, humming some song that was in your head last few days. When you finished your task, you made your way toward his desk. Sitting down to the desk in front of his own, you wanted to ask him if you may leave or take your phone, but somehow it felt too weird to do it.

,, Spit it out’’ he said, his eyes focused on the paper you gave him. Of course he noticed the little uncomfortable glances you gave him, and the way you played with your fingers. Something about it gave him the feeling of power, in some weird twisted way.

,, Can I go ?’’ you asked fast.

,,No’’ he replied as fast as you asked, like he was prepared for you to ask him that, making you whine loudly. You were pretty sure if it was Prof. Aizawa instead of him, you wouldn’t even dare to react that way.

,, Text your friends to bring you something to eat. You ain’t having the break today’’ he said, still correcting the paper. With a huge sigh you took your phone and turned it on. Messages popping up one after other. Mina and Momo cursing him out, sharing their location with you and simply being worried a bit. You told them about the break thing and asked them to bring you some snack, as you complained how he’s actually torturing you.

His coughing took your attention, making you place your phone on the table as you watched him stretch his arms out, as he placed your paper in front of you. Your eyes widened when you saw a huge D and 52% written on your paper. Some students would just be happy they passed, but not you. The worst grade you ever got in last two years was C, and yet you almost failed this fucking paper, only few percent’s saving your ass.

,, The beginning was alright. You missed lots of points. In the middle, some stuff you wrote didn’t make sense at all.’’ He sighed as he rubbed his right eye a bit before he continued telling you what you fucked up.

,, The end was terrible, from all the facts you wrote, to your grammar. It was painful to read ’’ He added, as he played with the pen in his hands.

,, Not sure what you expected from me when you gave me less then 24 hours to finish this shit.’’ You spat, anger taking over you again. At this point you found yourself missing Aizawa, and first time you felt unsure if you will be able to pass this class.

,,Is this detention done now? Can I leave now ?’’ you asked, wanting this shit finally to be over, ignoring his words from before that you won’t have a break today. At your surprise he just laughed you out, pissing you off even more if it was possible at all.

,, This ain’t your detention sweetie’’ he laughed, as he took his phone out of his pocket. Telling you how you will have to stay every day after classes for 1 to 2 hours to help him prepare his stuff for next classes. For the next four weeks.

You weren’t sure if he was joking around or not. You knew that some students had to do it, for example, Mina had to do it for a whole week, since she pissed off your Professor Shigaraki, always being late to his classes last year.

The next day, you ignored what he told you, as you made your way toward the exit when the class was done, only to be stopped as he called your last name out. That was enough for you to understand that he wasn’t joking around, and that the next four weeks you will have to give up 1 to 2 hours of your precious time.

At the beginning all you had to do was print the papers he prepared for the classes, and grab some stuff he needed while he was writing something down, or correcting some shit. You found yourself regretting the decision to go to that fucking uni. Usually professors don’t give a damn if a student pays attention to the class, if he passes or fail. They are here to teach, not discipline and if you feel like failing, that’s your issue. Well, not in this case. You felt like they enjoyed torturing y’all just for their own satisfaction.

Later on he would command you in the middle of the class to grab something out the office, since you already spent few hours in it, knowing where his stuff is. You also got yourself a new nickname in class, which was ‘’Todoroki’s pet’’.

,, Chill out, you only have 3 more weeks’’ Mina said as she took a bite of her sandwich, saying how she knows how you feel.

,, Bitch, no one called you Shigaraki’s pet. This is embarrassing’’ you whined, taking a sip of your coffee. The two of you decided to ditch the rest of the classes, since it was his one anyway. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to anyone’s shit today, since she had one sleepless night, and you weren’t in mood to stay 2 extra hours.

Both of you spent some time in the café, gossiping about some people form your class and making plans for tonight. Since it was Friday, both of you wanted to enjoy your time a bit, instead of spending the night home being lazy as fuck. Mina told you that Keigo invited the three of you to his little house party that he made every now and then. Every time his parents would go somewhere because of work, he would throw a party that made him so famous among other students.

He knew you, Mina and Momo from the high school and he always got along with all three of you. Sometimes even tagging along with the three of you to grab a coffee, nagging about his affairs and so on.

Mina didn’t go home, since you invited her to come over to your place. Both of you getting a good ass nap before you got ready for the party. She wore some of your fancy clothes and you wore a simple white shirt, and your pastel purple strap dress over it, that hugged your curves perfectly. The two of you did your make up before you wore your black Martens boots and made your way to the party.

Momo was already waiting at the party for you, drinking her beer with Keigo. She placed her drink on the counter when she saw the two of you get in. There were already some people you knew, but you knew that in the matter of time the house will be full as fuck.

,, You two sick fucks, why did you leave me all alone today’’ she laughed out as she took one sip of her beer.

,, No one’s in the mood to talk about that fucktard and his annoying ass classes here.’’ You said loudly, as you made a drink for yourself, mixing Malibu with some cherry juice as Keigo asked the three of you what happened.

,, Professor fucking Todoroki is torturing the shit out of me.’’ You said as you placed a cigarette between your lips. ,, I never thought I’ll say this, but I really miss Aizawa’’ you said in one breath making your friends laugh at your sudden confession.

,, Ah, I heard about your new nickname tho’’ Keigo said with a huge grin on his face, making you roll your eyes. ,, What is it again?’’ he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You were about to tell him to shut the fuck up and drop this topic already, but a arm placed around your shoulders threw you out of the tact.

,, They call her My pet’’ a familiar voice said, making you almost choke on your drink. Momo’s eyes were looking at you in shock, and Mina tried to make herself unnoticed, since she skipped his classes with you today.

,, Bro, I heard that you are giving her some hard time. What did you do to my girl?’’ Keigo laughed loudly, as he greeted his ‘’friend’’. You sat there frozen, totally forgetting that you have a cigarette in your hand, that was now half way done. You weren’t sure how much he heard.

,, Nothing she didn’t deserve.’’ Your prof. answered, laughing together with Keigo. You forget that he was around your age, and that it shouldn’t be such a big deal to see him at party’s like this. After all, everyone enjoyed his company. You, Mina and Momo exchanged one look that told more then any word could. All of you grabbing your drink, before leaving the two of them in the kitchen.

,,What the fuck is he doing here ?’’ you spat out, not giving a shit if he will hear you or not.

,, I have no idea. This was so embarrassing’’ Mina said, laughing loudly as she drowned her drink down, grabbing another one immediately.

,, Why ?’’ Momo asked confused, making you ask yourself how much she drank already.

,,Girl, the fuck are you even asking ?’’ Mina asked her, still giggling around. ,, Usually people get smarter in Uni, what happened with you? ‘’ she added wrapping her arm around Momo’s shoulders.

,, Downgrade’’ you said, making your friends laugh, as Momo hit your arm lightly.

Keigo was playing the music, his phone connected to the large loudspeakers. At the beginning you hated his taste of music, but later on you simply got used to it and at some point you started liking the songs he would play.

The three of you were fooling around, chitchatting with some people you knew from Uni. Once you heard that Anxiety from Blackbear started playing, you made your way toward the kitchen where Keigo was. The moment he saw you he started making some silly dance moves, as you immediately started to hop around and copy his moves. The first time he showed you this song, you literally hated it so much, only later on to learn every word as it became the song of you two.

He started singing as you prepared another drink for yourself, waving your left arm in the air like Keigo did, following the beat of the song. At that point, you didn’t give a fuck about the presence of your Prof, since it looked like he didn’t really want to bother you either.

,, Having fun?’’ Keigo asked, as he placed his glass in front of your lips, forcing you to drink every drop of his drink.

,, Disgusting’’ you hissed, making a face. He laughed at your silly face and reaction as he pat your head. Taking a sip of your sweet drink, trying to cover up the Whisky he just gave you.

,, Touya, your detention ain’t shit. She still doesn’t have any manners’’ Keigo joked, as he shook his head a little.

,, I’m working on it’’ He answered, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

,, Oh shut the fuck up, both of you’’ you blurted, trying not to give them much reaction, since you were pretty sure they were just provoking you at this point. The two of them only laughed at your reaction, finding it cute.

Hopping of the long chair, you pulled your dress down, and made your way to find your friends. The house was full at this point. Greeting every third person, you tried to find either Mina or Momo, only to give up at the end.

Not wanting to go back in the kitchen, you made your way upstairs where the guest room was. Keigo and Todoroki noticed you going upstairs as Keigo tired to call your name out, only to end up being ignored since you didn’t hear shit.

You hopped onto the bed, your feet still on the floor, since you were too lazy to take off your boots. You placed the small ashtray on the bed, and lit your cigarette as you watched the people in the small hallway dance around and have fun.

Taking your phone out of the small pocket of your dress, you sent a message to the group chat, asking your friends where they are and telling them that you are in the guest room. Dropping your phone to the side, you enjoyed your cigarette, and the muffed sounds of the music. Looking at the ceiling, you waited for your friends to reply or come finally, since you wanted to drink and have some more fun.

The moment you heard the door close, your body twitched up.

,, What do you want now ? ‘’ you hissed when you saw Todoroki making his way to sit next to you. Instead of answering you, he just sat beside you, taking the small box of cigarettes and lighting one with your lighter.

You did the same thing, trying to cover the fact that you indeed felt a little bit uncomfortable. You laid down again, ignoring his presence as you puffed on your cigarette. You could feel his stare on you, as you tried to pull your dress down a little, scared it showed more then is should.

He laid down next to you, placing the ashtray to the side. In that moment you wished you were drunk, since the whole situation was freaking you out a little.

,, Chill out doll, we ain’t at Uni.’’ He said, placing his hands under his head, answering your question only now.

He looked a bit different then usual. Wearing simple black shirt with jeans, and Nike airforce. It looked good, but it kinda felt weird since the only outfit you saw him in was the formal one, in the uni.

You tried to move to the side a little, since he was a bit too close. Placing the ashtray on the nightstand, you took it as excuse to move a bit form him. Sure, he was handsome as fuck, sure you wouldn’t mind him that close, laying down beside you, if he wasn’t your fucking professor for the next six fucking months.

He noticed you wiggling to the side. How could he not notice that, as your dress got a bit up without you even realizing it, giving him view of more skin. He’s not stupid, he knew he made you uncomfortable, but he liked it. He liked the way when some of your friends called you by your new nickname. He loved the fact that he marked you his, without trying at all.

The moment you stood up, realizing that your dress is showing more then you intended to, grabbing the edges of it and pulling it down while whispering small apologies, his dick twitched inside of his pants. He placed one more cigarette between his lips, as he grabbed your wrist, forcing you to sit on his lap and not giving a single fuck if you could feel his erection.

,, What’s wrong doll?’’ he asked once you gasped in surprise. He loved how you didn’t dare to complain or even say anything. But was there even something to say? Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t find yourself to form a normal sentence anymore.

,, You heard what Keigo said. ‘’ he whispered, as he inhaled the smoke of his cigarette. ,, That my detention ain’t shit’’ he added, his finger on your jaw now, making you look at him.

,,What should I do’’ he wondered out loud, turned on only by the confused look on your face. You weren’t sure if he already noticed, but all he did at that moment turned you on. His grip around your jaw got stronger, forcing you to open your mouth lightly, as his lips got closer to yours only to exhale the smoke in your mouth.

,, You know, I have to punish my pet for being absent today’’ he said, his face only inches away from your own. ,, Sure, I thought you were sick at first. But look at you, healthy as fuck’’ he said, his other hand squeezing your ass tightly as he pulled you closer to his body. The position you were in was embarrassing for you, and you were pretty sure if someone walked in, you would be labeled as Todoroki’s pet forever.

He placed you onto the bed, slowly standing up to turn off his cigarette. You weren’t even sure what was happening anymore. You just sat there on the bed, as he locked the door before he made his way back to you. Standing in front of you, looking down on you, he couldn’t hide the smirk that appeared on his face.

Pushing you back lightly, your upper body fell onto the mattress giving him a perfect view of you, before he hovered over your body. He wanted to fuck your brains out, he wanted to hear you scream his name all over again as he fucked you into the mattress, but he had to risk it all with a question. Since you were giving him mixed signals, he had to be sure you wanted this as much as he did.

,, You sure about this ?’’ he breathed out, hoping you won’t turn into a fucking brat again and storm out of the room, or make any other unnecessary scene.

,,Yes’’ you managed to nod your head. Sure, the risk for you was huge, but what could even happen anymore ? You were already labeled as his pet, because of the stupid detention.

,, Good. Fucking. Girl’’ he said pointing every word out, as he placed soft kisses all over your neck, leaving sloppy purple marks shamelessly. Your breathing got a bit heavier hearing these three words coming out of his mouth.

He didn’t have time for foreplay, first of all, because he wanted to be inside of you, second, because the risk of people noticing was too big. Sure, he was around your age, but at the end he would probably lose his job.

,, Someone’s calling you’’ he said, still abusing your neck. Ignoring the phone and his words, you just enjoyed the feeling of his lips on your neck, wanting more.

,,Pick it up doll’’ commending, he pulled your panties to the side, as he touched your clit, groaning loudly when he felt how wet you already are. The thought of fucking you while you were talking to your friends got in his mind, and he couldn’t ignore it at all.

,, Yes?’’ you asked, sounding whiny more then you should, while he played with your pussy.

,, Bitch, the door is locked’’ you heard Mina on the other line, eyes wide in shock. You tried to pull yourself up, but his hand stopped you as he pushed you back into the mattress.

,, I’m.. I’m not.. ahh shit ‘’ You almost moaned when the sudden feeling of pleasure and pain took over you, as he entered you without a warning. Throwing your head back, you tried to talk, you tried to think of something, anything, to tell to your friend.

Touya closed his eyes, enjoying how your walls felt around his dick. Your pussy felt like it was made just for him. And it felt even better once he heard you fight the moan, while you tried to talk to your friend.

,, Keep being good for me’’ he groaned quietly, as his hips started to move at rapidly speed.

,,Are you with someone?’’ Mina screamed, as you closed your eyes, feeling every inch of his dick moving in and out of your core. All you wanted to do was throw the fucking phone away, and enjoy what he was giving you.

,, Y-yeah, friend’’ you said, trying to hold the moans, as he fucked you hard. Mina hang up after she told you that they will wait for you in the kitchen with Keigo. The moment the call ended, you threw your phone on the bed, placing your hands on his shoulders, finding some comfort in it. You were sure that people could hear the bed slamming onto the walls, maybe even your moans that he muffed with his hand.

,, You feel so good, doll’’ he groaned, every move he made was getting stronger and faster, turning you into a whiny mess under him. You placed your lips on his neck, sucking and biting on it as you tried to keep your moans low. You felt a bit proud of the marks you left on his neck. If you were marked his, then that was the last thing you could do to mark him too. Even if it was a bit.

,, Touya, please’’ you cried when he slowed down. Snuggling your face into his neck, you took a deep breath trying to calm yourself down from the pleasure he was giving you. The slow moves were too painful for you, they made you feel every inch of his dick moving inside.

He moaned loudly when he heard his name slip out of your mouth. He wanted to hear more of it, he wanted to hear you beg for him while you say his name all over again.

,, You look so good when you want it’’ he said, tugging your hair back into the mattress, giving himself more access of your neck that was already marked by him, but of course that wasn’t enough.

,, Be my good girl and beg for it’’ he said, not moving at all. He wanted to destroy you, but at that moment he simply had to hear you beg for him.

,,Please Touya, I’ll be good. Please’’ you begged again, and that was more then enough for him.

,, That’s my good girl’’ he whispered, kissing your lips as he started to move his hips again. He was pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, enjoying the way you were whimpering under him as you wrapped your legs around him, trying to get him closer to you.

,,So close’’ you mumbled somehow, squeezing your eyes shut when you felt his fingers rub against your clit. Only few rubs were enough for you to catch your high, biting onto his shoulder as you came all over his dick.

,, Such a good girl’’ Touya said as his speed increased, shortly after it, he comes deep inside you, groaning into your neck, as your fingers found their way to his hair. You closed your eyes, feeling his seemen filling your pussy up. He continued to fuck you as he was riding out his orgasm, slowly fucking his cum back into your core.

The two of you took some time to catch your breaths. His dick still buried deep inside you. The moment he pulled it out, you whined loudly at the feeling of emptiness. Placing one more kiss on your lips, Touya pulled your panties down, cleaning the cum that was leaking out of you with them.

,, You gotta be kidding me’’ you gasped when you realized what he did, only getting a smirk as a response.

Once he was sure that you were clean now, he pushed your panties deep inside of his pocket, giving himself a little present that would remind him of you, before he commanded you to unlock your phone, so he could save his number in it. Immediately calling his own number.

,, Don’t ever think of skipping my class again for the next six months” he hissed, as he grabbed your jaw, forcing you into kiss. All you could do was nod in agreement, promising that you’ll attend his classes.

He gave you one more kiss, before he left. Telling you to wait a bit, before you follow him, to make it less suspicious. Laying down on bad, all fucked out, you smoked one cigarette as you sent a message to Mina and Momo, telling them that you’ll be there in few minutes, and asking them to make you a drink.

Once the cigarette was done, you found yourself going downstairs, noticing that Touya was already with Keigo, talking about something. The moment you stepped into the kitchen, Mina and Momo started laughing loudly.

,,Oh, I see what’s going on’’ Mina gasped figuring out what just happened. She wasn’t dumb. Maybe others didn’t realized, but your overly marked neck, and the few hickeys around his neck made your friends understand what happened. Not like Keigo didn’t already know, he was the first one to support his friend, making him follow you into the guest room.

The next days, you found yourself waiting excitedly for your detention. Enjoying the time you were spending with him. Enjoying the risky sex the two of you had in the class room, in his office or in the toilet of the University.

Touya didn’t test your limits anymore, he knew that you were ready to do anything for him, he knew that he had you under his spell. But as much as he had you, you had him. He found himself spoiling the shit out of you, driving you home, coming to your apartment almost every evening and buying you little presents you never asked for.

You loved how he couldn’t keep his hands off you, not even in front of the class, ready to risk it all for you. Ordering you to work on some of his papers, while everyone else was chit-chatting or simply playing on their phones when the lesion was done. He wanted to let them all go, so he could fuck you there on the desk, but since it was too early, he just told them to do whatsoever, as you sat beside him, focused on your work.

The small gasp that came out of your mouth, once you felt his hand on your tight, squeezing it tightly, turned him on even more. You don’t wear skirt when you are having classes everyday, he had to grab that chance he had served in front of him.

,, Not here’’ you whispered, trying to look like nothing’s happening at all.

,,Yes here’’ he answered quietly, as he acted it out like he was explaining something to you, slipping one finger into your core.

The way he pumped his finger in and out of you, acting like he ain’t doing shit was driving you crazy. Also the fact that anyone that payed a little bit more attention to you, could probably realize what was going on, didn’t help either. The adrenaline was rushing in your blood, as you squeezed your tights together, trying to tell him that he’s hitting the right spot.

That day he finger fucked you in front of everyone, making sure no one noticed. Even tho no one gave two shits about the two of you, every person in their own worlds, you felt like all eyes were on you. You felt like everyone knew what was going on, as your head hang low, hair covering your face enough for you to squeeze your eyes shut as you came all over his fingers.

Once you found yourself breathing normally, you took your phone, opening the message that Mina sent you.

,, Girl, you can’t be serious’’

The two of you made eye contact, laughing loudly. Well, someone in fact noticed, thankfully no one dangerous.

[bandaigaeru]

song of the summer - bang chan

→pairing: ceo bang chan x gn reader

→genre: kinda strangers to lovers

→synopsis: he runs one of the biggest music companies in the country, yet he inducts you to help aid him and his friends, each of them deemed as representatives of the ‘big three’, for their next official comeback.

→word count: 12.5k

→ warnings: swearing, shitty father figure

i.

A single question hangs over the dim conference room you’ve somehow scored a seat in. Does the general public want to see 3Racha? Bluntly, the answer is right in front of you. Glowing against the whiteboard from the overhead projector, the carefully curated slideshow answers the rhetorical question.

One of the dance representatives from the back of the room twirls his pen between his fingers. Leaning back in his chair, he apathetically wonders aloud, “So it’s true, then?”

“What’s that, Mr. Lee?” the marketing representative, a Mr. Choi, holds his remote between both hands as he leans toward the table. The word ‘full’ dances across his face as he steps in front of the projector’s path.

“That they’re making a comeback. A full one?”

Mr. Choi nods, scanning the rest of the patrons’ reactions with squinted eyes as he says, “That would be correct.”

Of course, the three who would walk onstage and perform aren’t here. Mr. Bang is probably running around, abiding by his role as the professional CEO who never skips a beat. Regarding the other two, you’re not sure. They’re not as predictable.

The project is pretty tight in terms of what needs to be met. Summer is around the corner, and everyone and their mother will be fighting to hold that mere title of having the temporary greatest hit. When the general public awaits their yearly easily digestible, flowery songs.

“Keep in mind that we are all under Bang! Entertainment,” Choi remarks, clicking to his next slide displaying headlines questioning the company’s next move. “It should go without saying, but all eyes will be on us as the season turns.”

You stare at the bolded words, trying to digest each of them. Joining the company was likely the best decision you’ve ever made, outside of adopting a cat named Loba. When you got scouted as a producer, you were under a different company. Bang! offered a contract, but didn’t require an interview because they ‘didn’t want to invalidate or question a talent they’ve already seen.’

It was an ego boost.

“I’m sure you all know what your roles are in this,” Choi says, taking glances around the room to make sure each face isn’t lost or distant. This is 3Racha we’re talking about. Everything must be perfect.

You take a glance of your own. A few belong to the dance department, some to hair and makeup; however, you are the only producer here.

You raise a low hand to garner Mr. Choi’s attention. “Why am I here?” you subsequently ask, dropping your hand and crossing it against your chest as before.

“The team personally requested you,” he says.

Connections, you instantly understand. In a place like this, in a time like this, they’re a necessity. Nepotism is practically required in the world of music, hence why it sucks for most aspiring indie artists. You didn’t choose to befriend a guy who happens to be best friends with one of the big three here. So, you cast a blind eye.

It’s all a game of luck.

The meeting doesn’t run much longer. A concluding statement with hints of a threat if anyone messes up rings through your ears. A project end date of July 20th, when the album is supposed to go live. You’re not nervous, per se. Simply blindsided given the lack of information. What’s the song about? When’s the due date? Will 3Racha come to you first, or do you have to take time out of your day to the CEO’s harrowing office? The uncertainties aggravate the impulse of opening a new document on your computer and delving into your producer rituals. You can’t create someone else’s project out of blankness. And that irritates you to no end.

Someone throws their arm around your shoulder in an attempt to throw you off your purposeful stride.

“Congrats,” the belonger says.

You glance over to look, even though you know the voice well. He is your connection, of course.

“Thanks.”

Minho pulls you back to a slower pace. Familiar faces from the meeting pass you to the elevator, a majority in a meaningless chatter. They expected an appearance on this project.

“What are you doing tonight?” he finally asks, stopping altogether and dropping his arm from your shoulder.

You shrug, looking curiously at him. Minho’s not one to beat around the bush.

“Hypothetically,” he starts, “how would you feel being invited to bro night?”

“And actually witness you or Felix puke on the lawn instead of hearing about it? No thanks,” you scoff, making an attempt to abandon the situation by following the distancing crowd.

He grabs your wrist, spinning you back to him. “Please?” His eyes are pleading, glaring back at you like an innocent kitten.

You tip your head and sigh. “Why?”

Instead of cutting to the chase, he sucks in a deep breath and says, “I’ll pay you.”

An eyebrow cocks. Regardless of your amusement—a desperate Minho doesn’t appear often—worries consume you. “What’s up? Why are you acting like this?”

Wary eyes jump around the hallway before they land back on you. “Follow me,” he mumbles.

His steps are calculated as he guides you to the elevator and presses the floor his office resides on. The ride is silent, as is the walk down the hall. You step into the room first, and he closes the door behind him. Despite the urge to ask if he’s about to murder you, you bite your tongue and take a seat on his upholstered couch. Identical to the one in your office.

Gently, he lowers himself into his chair. A few minutes pass of you simply staring at each other. Nerves crawl up your spine and you disguise them with a snarky comment. “Are you going to tell me why you’re willing to bribe me into spending time with your friends?”

In the time he takes to respond, you think about how the only mutual friend you have is Jisung. Sure, you know everyone on a name basis; but it’s not like you’ve known them as long as Minho. He doesn’t have other, more qualified, friends to drag to bro night?

“Chan’s kinda in a mood right now,” Minho’s words are slurred by the breath he releases as he speaks.

“And?” you press.

“I want you to see it before you work with him. And for him to understand you in advance. Y’know. You’re a little,” he hesitates, “forward sometimes.”

You should take this as an insult, but you can’t because words’ owner knows you too well. Minho never speaks unjustly.

“Touche,” you nod. It’s better to own up to your flaws. If you don’t, that’s how you end up walking into a carefully curated narcissistic personality.

His features loosen as he presses his forearms on his thighs. “So. You in?”

“I don’t really have a choice,” you emit a wry laugh. All in one sentence, you’ve managed to prove his point. It’s simple, really.

“You see, I’ve already told the boys you’re coming. Either way, I would’ve gotten you to go. The only other option would have been to threaten you with a knife,” he admits. As you gawk at him in awe, realizing you stand in the same boat, a proud grin grows on his face. With time, you begin to mirror the ones you admire. Friends, for example.

“I think Seungmin will like you,” he adds.

“Why do you say that?”

All you know of Kim Seungmin is that he’s in the vocal department, along with his younger counterpart Yang Jeongin, and that he’s a menace. Minho’s words.

“You’re both evil.”

That’s the last straw. You stand up without a word and stomp for the door.

His laugh echoes behind you, striking a quieter one of your own. Still, you stay in character and slip out into the hallway. Minho has won too many of these scenarios.

ii.

Loba sneaks into the kitchen as you wait impatiently for Minho. Thirty minutes. That’s how late he is. You consider texting him, but acknowledge the possibility he’s stuck in traffic or something. Agitation tells you to do it anyway since he only lives two blocks over.

The orange cat paws at your calf for attention, momentarily distracting you as you set your phone down on the counter. Minho’s chat is wide open. She, too, finds excuses for him.

Her head nuzzles against your palm as you scratch behind her ears. She meddles successfully enough to trick you into feeding her a few treats. While you reach for the top shelf of your pantry, a pair of footsteps sneak up behind you. Heavier than Loba’s.

“Did the cat convince you to spoil her again?”

“Son of a-” you recoil, whirling around to greet the man, the myth, the late bastard.

The familiar appearance of a sly smirk, mischievous eyes, and an outfit that makes him look like a casual runway model, pierce your vision.

“You’re late,” you mutter, stepping past him and scooping Loba up. You rest her head on your left arm, cradling her like a baby. She tilts her head up to stare back at Minho. Traitor.

Minho grabs the bag of treats for you.

“Sorry, I had to pick up Jisung. He’s in the car,” his voice trails as he slips his thumbs between the plastic fold and focuses on opening the difficult seal.

“Damn it,” he curses. Karma arrives faster in deserving situations.

“It took you thirty extra minutes to pick him up?”

He deadpans, “You know he likes to be presentable for the boys.”

When you don’t give him the satisfaction of a single laugh, let alone a change in emotion, he whines, “Oh come on, that was funny.”

“You trick me into going to your stupid hangout, and now you have the nerve to show up late?”

He sneaks a few treats to Loba. “You’re really not mad at me right now, are you?”

“Irritated, at the least,” you admit.

“Well, then I’m sorry. Jisung got off late so I had to wait at Bang! for him.”

The words sink into your skin, but you don’t acknowledge them further. The anger fades on the walk down to the car, a great distance separating you and Minho. It’s practically dissipated by the time you climb into the backseat of Minho’s Kia Soul.

Jisung turns in the front seat and offers his hand at an awkward angle. “It’s a pleasure to be working with you.”

You hold your seatbelt in one hand, accepting his with the other as you force a measly smile. “Same for you. Thanks for suggesting me to Mr. Bang.”

Confusion warps his face, twisting his eyebrows in a weird knit as he shakes his head. “It wasn’t me. Must’ve been Chan.”

Minho drops himself into the driver’s seat, suspending any further questioning.

Jisung returns to his original poise as when you approached the car. Eyes focused on his phone, actively typing something out.

You click your seatbelt into locking. An unnatural feeling plagues your gut. Mr. Bang wanted you on the team? It feels unlikely, but you know Jisung wouldn’t joke like that. Even if he were the type, his acting of unawareness gives away the truth.

Minho glances back at you in the mirror. “Ready?” he asks as his hand rests on the gearshift.

You press your lips into a line as you nod. “Mhm.”

You stare down at your hands carefully folded in your lap. For the first time since before producing, the itch to create is drowned by an intense, overwhelming brew of something lingering in your veins.

The expectation of you has pierced through the roof and is shooting out of the stratosphere.

Chan—Jisung quickly advised you to drop all formalities, so you’re rewiring your thoughts—has a home in Gangnam. Fitting for his status, but smaller than you expected. It’s still able to fit at least four of your apartment in it, though.

Jisung and Minho walk ahead of you up the stairs. The elevators in rich apartments on this end can only fit two people if you really scrunch together. What’s the money for, then?

“Today’s Monopoly night, right?” Jisung examines Minho’s side profile as he cautiously lifts one foot after the other. The stairs here are steeper than any you’ve seen. Hiking sounds better than this.

He hums in approval. “I guess we’ll sort teams later. We probably won’t live through the night with last week’s.”

A brash laugh escapes Jisung’s lips, subsequently echoing against the walls and bouncing back to your ears. “Right.”

You tune out their conversation for the rest of the climb, settling for watching your shoelaces sway with each step.

Jisung pushes on the door for the fourth floor, holding it open until you’re fully into the hallway. “Chan’s the second door on the right,” Jisung nods to one of the identical doors along the hall—appearing more expensive than your monthly rent with its rich stain.

Minho doesn’t bother knocking, instead opting for trying the doorknob. It allows access to the gigantic living space and the loud chatter previously muffled by walls.

You must be the last to arrive, but you probably could’ve guessed such.

“Hey,” Jeongin looks up from his conversation, inspiring a round of greetings from all the others.

“You all know each other enough so I’ll skip the introductions,” Minho glances between you and the group, starting for an empty end of the couch.

When Jisung follows his lead, you take a headcount. It appears everyone’s present except Chan—his birth name still feels awkwardly informal in your thoughts. You glance down the dark hallway to your right, counting one, two, three closed doors. Nature drags you into curiosity.

Seungmin, your alleged evil twin, waves you over.

As you take the empty spot beside him, he says, “Sorry, you looked a little awkward just standing there. Thought I’d save you before Hyunjin said something.” He shoots a pointed nod at the long-haired blond lounging between Changbin and Minho.

“Oh. Thanks,” you force a little smile that imitates gratitude. You didn’t feel awkward observing, but maybe your aura screamed otherwise.

Jeongin leans slightly over Seungmin’s shoulder with an inquisitive eye. “How did Minho convince you to come?”

“Blackmail,” you nod. Not attempting to summon a laugh, but managing so in the process.

“That’s Minho for you,” Seungmin tips his head in a slightly disbelieving manner.

“It’s okay, though. We’ll make tonight fun for you,” Jeongin raises his hand, and you meet it with a high-five.

Bro night might not be as bad as you thought.

“If only Chan comes out from his room,” Seungmin mutters, particularly to himself, as he leans his arm on the back of the couch and twists his body to look back into the hallway.

Questions. You want to ask them, but then Minho’s words return in full, blaring effect. Forward, he said. Meaning: blunt. In your face.

You bite your tongue. Redirect the temptation, you think, as your eyes scan the room. Admittedly, it’s odd seeing all these people away from their respective passions. However, Changbin’s phone is cradled in his hands, and his fingers are typing away potential lyrics. Felix, too, is hiding the fact his fingers are mirroring the directions of his recent choreography. Maybe passions are always a shadow of you.

“Should we just fix teams?” Minho says above the impatient silence.

“We can,” Hyunjin leans his forearms on his thighs. His hair falls in front of his shoulders like he’s some kind of Greek god.

“Team captains?” Seungmin asks.

“Let’s do the oldest of each unit, but since Chan’s God-knows-where, Changbin can represent,” Minho nods, glancing around for looks of satisfaction.

“Sure, rock-paper-scissors for who goes first?” Seungmin pushes a strand of hair out of his eye.

Short story short, Minho wins the first round with a victorious cheer of, “Easy!”

“You only say that because you know they always pick scissors first,” you accuse.

Minho points a finger at you, “Allegedly.”

You land a spot on Minho’s team since he got the first pick of the litter. Then, by Minho’s attempt at matchmaking, Chan lands on your team.

As you’re moving spots, you shoot Seungmin a sad, unmoving look.

He laughs, pushing you towards Minho. “Maybe next time.”

“What?” Minho glances between you. “Are you planning a coup against me?”

“You wish, Lee Minho,” you sigh, falling into the empty space beside him.

After a few beats of silence, for good measure, Minho leans down to your ear and says, “I told you you’d like him.”

“Yeah, he’s like a better version of you,” you turn to see the predictable look of offense on his features.

“Fine then, get Seungmin to drive you home,” he pouts, crossing his arms against his chest and pushing his back into the couch.

“Oh come on,” you nudge his elbow, laughing at his exaggeration.

You see a smile tug at his lips before he breaks, letting a chuckle break through his barrier.

In the remaining meantime that you wait, Minho calls dibs on the cat. Seungmin’s team claims the dog, with an offhand comment from Minho going, “You would choose the dog.” Finally, Changbin’s team chooses the hat.

“Is that a joke because you’re so short? So you can gain a few inches with the hat?” Hyunjin jabs.

Changbin reaches over the couch to try and hit him.

From this end of the couch, you can look directly into the dark, mysterious hallway. You watch as the second door knob slowly turns. You focus on it, and the shouting dispute fades out in your ears.

Chan steps out from the room, carefully closing the door behind him so as to not bring all the eyes on him at once. You fight your facial expressions to remain neutral as you take in his appearance—which is shockingly normal. Suits are his workplace fashion, and consequently, all you’ve seen him in. Now, he wears black basketball shorts and a black tee. His hair is even loosening into curls. Is this the same man who runs a massive music company? Are we sure?

His cover is blown the moment he steps into the light of the living room. Jeongin warily points a finger in your direction, “You’re on their team.”

Chan presses his lips into a makeshift smile as he approaches you and Minho. He pushes out a small ‘hey’ before taking his spot on the other side of Minho.

His reclusive figure makes your heart wrench. You wish you could have talked Minho out of going. To him, you’re just an outsider he has to put a front up for. But, the thing is, he isn’t trying to build a barrier. It appears that he doesn’t have any more energy to try.

You catch yourself staring when Minho nudges your knee with his. “You take the first roll.”

Collecting the die, you notice your hands trembling a little. Not good. You manage, somehow knocking Seungmin’s dog in the process. He feigns shock, whining in an accusatory tone, “You’re no different than Minho.”

The choir of laughter shuffles you back into reality when you glance back at your accused teammate, catching the look of the other. The corners of Chan’s lips are slightly turning up into a smile.

Whew. You’re amazed by the amount of relief that little smile gives you.

iii.

The game trails into the early hours of the morning, and a few times a boy will point at Chan and say, in an attempt to be lighthearted, “This is all your fault.”

To the dismay of the rivals, Changbin’s team manages to win. Jisung, a member of Seungmin’s team, flips the board twenty turns too late at the news. “This game is stupid!” he laughs through his words.

“You’re cleaning that up,” Changbin says as the money flutters to the rug beneath the glass coffee table. A cue for the group to laugh blinks above their heads, each varying in intensity. Hyunjin even claps a few times, for his vocal contribution pales insufficient.

Jisung slumps to the ground, “I know.”

Chan lifts himself from the couch to aid him with a lingering smile from all the laughs. As the night progressed, he seemed to slowly inch into his ‘normal’ state, as Jisung had referred to in the car.

Minho slips his phone out from his pocket. At the single-digit time, nearing close to sunrise, he heaves a sigh and pushes himself up. “Guess I should get you home.”

He extends a hand to help you up.

“You’re leaving already?” Seungmin asks.

“Uh, yeah. It’s like three A.M.,” Minho squints at him, turning his lit home screen at him for proof.

Chan snickers as he stacks all the thousands. “That’s early for me.”

See? He’s even making jokes now. This is a weird normal, considering all you know of him is his status, but admittedly better than whatever funk he was previously in.

“See you on Monday, I’ll just spend the night,” Jisung lifts his hand in a semi-wave.

Chan doesn’t protest. Instead, he looks up at you and sticks his hand up. “Can’t wait to work with you,” and smiles. Dimples indent his cheeks in a way that makes your stomach churn.

You take his hand and mirror his smile, though it’s rather genuine in comparison to the one you offered Jisung.

Minho has the decency to wait to call you out on it until you’re in the soundproof safety of his car.

“I saw that,” he says.

“What?”

“The smile. Don’t like Chan. That’d be way too awkward for me.”

You laugh, examining his twisted face of disgust as he starts the car. “Why?”

You’re not asking out of curiosity. You don’t like Chan, and you don’t see yourself liking him anytime soon. Or in the far future, for that matter. It’s just so easy to mess with Minho.

“Uh, my best friend dating my other best friend? That’s third-wheel central. I’m too hot to be a third wheel.”

Later, as you’re unbuckling your seatbelt to venture into the apartment building, Minho mumbles, “But, I mean, if you like him it’s whatever. I don’t want you feeling like you have to hide anything from me.”

You punch his arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re getting all sappy on me again. You don’t have to worry about stuff like that, dude,” you frown. Above anything Minho can say to you, his insecurities taking over his words hurts the most.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” you say, then adding, “Unless you want to come over sometime this weekend. I’ll be home.”

He smiles, though you sense the differing thoughts behind his eyes. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you say before shutting the door.

iv.

In all the wrong ways, Monday comes too fast. Faster than you can process Friday night, essentially.

You try to scramble your remaining thoughts into order as you walk into the lobby.

Is Chan going to be normal today? Hoping so. Why was that relief so astonishing? Did Minho catch onto something-

“Hey, Y/N!” Jisung intercepts your thoughts.

Your eyes involuntarily widen as he pops out from seemingly nowhere. Your gaze drifts to his outstretched hands, offering you one of the drinks each brandishes.

“I didn’t know which you’d prefer, and Minho wasn’t awake so I couldn’t text him. So, I got coffee and tea.”

You take your pick and nod a ‘thank you.’

“How was your weekend?” you find yourself asking as he leads you to the elevator.

He shrugs, “I did absolutely nothing other than a brain detox for this project. You?”

Despite his back being to you, your chin twitches into a nod. “Same as you, pretty much.”

“I think Chan’s in a good enough mood,” Jisung glances back at you as he reaches for the up arrow on the elevator’s panel.

“Sweet.”

Minho is your gateway to an easy conversation. Of course, he’s not here, but you slightly wish he was. You’re forced to meander in an abrasive silence until the elevator takes you up to the eighth floor.

Eight, because Chan detests the idea of being too close to anyone. He doesn’t want his presence to divide anyone’s attempt at creating their best. An icon in distancing, Minho joked as during your first week under Bang!

Jisung sucks in a deep breath as he turns into a room whose door is partially cracked. “Here goes nothing.”

On the far side of the room is an L-shaped couch. Resting upon the vertical side as if he were in his own bed is Changbin. A laptop sits in his lap, closed, but his phone is inches away from his face as he types.

“It’d be more effective if you used that laptop,” Jisung comments, resting his drink on the coffee table and sitting by Changbin’s feet. Giving Changbin the perfect opportunity to wedge his foot between the younger’s ribcage. A cry of pain shoots out of Jisung’s mouth. Truly, he should have seen that coming.

“Dude!” he shouts, jumping to his feet and clutching his side.

“I told you not to mess with me,” Changbin’s eyes narrow into a warning gaze, but Jisung laughs anyway.

“You are not scary, bro.”

You start for the opposite end of the couch, pressing your back into the armrest as you watch the scene unfold. Cupping your drink with both hands, you’re unsure if the warmth stems from it or the sibling-esque fight before you.

Changbin slides the laptop off of his lap and pulls himself to his feet. He stands before Jisung, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. Then, as his eyes flutter open, he brings his fists up.

“Come on. Fight me.”

Jisung takes a step back. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Changbin shakes his head. “I’m not.”

Jisung’s eyes flit around the room for help. It would be that when the muscle man wants to fight, the only person physically capable of pacifying him isn’t here. Pure, unadulterated luck.

“And when you break my arm, then what?” Jisung’s eyebrows raise in taunting interrogation.

“Then I break your arm? What about it? You can perform with a shattered humerus. Right, ace?”

By chance of a higher being granting Han Jisung a break, Chan enters his office with a manila folder in his hand. Only a few steps into the room, he has to halt. His hand finds his hip, releasing a big sigh as he clutches the folder. To no surprise, he’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit. Black, of course. But with a surprising navy undershirt, which you give him credit for.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to cause injury in my office? Can you imagine the lawsuit? Would you do that to your beloved friend?” he asks a stream of questions.

He seems relatively happy.

Changbin drops his fists to his sides, gaze dropping back to his abandoned laptop. He scoops it up before reclaiming his spot. To fully conclude the argument, he opens the laptop’s lid. “Jisung started it.”

The accused boy looks at Chan and silently pleads his case. His hands clasp into a prayer.

Chan waves him off with a smile and a breathy laugh before starting for his desk. He acknowledges you with a small raise of his hand.

“Ah, where to begin?” he asks, to no one in particular, as he tosses the folder onto his desk and sinks into his chair.

“Han, can you turn the projector on?” Changbin takes the initiative, reaching over the couch’s back to grab a white USB cord.

He does as told, warily trying to avoid another pseudo-fight, before rushing to the light switch and fading the room into a mass of darkness. Chan must not like having his blinds open. Black world he lives in.

Changbin’s screen presents against the vacant wall across from him. A pre-written document appears, with the title ‘TT Ideas’ and a dashed list. 1.5 spacing, you admire.

“Okay, I did my homework,” he sighs, dragging his cursor over the highlighted ideas for the title track. “These are my personal favorites, but I’m up to debate.”

Jisung shivers at those words. Debate. Meaning: duel.

In the darkness, Chan steps in front of you. He sits halfway between you and Changbin, resting his elbows on his knees as he studies the list. You notice that his lips pout as he focuses, and his eyes squint a little.

You shift your own attention, for you’ll lose pacing if you stare at Chan the whole day. Changbin has highlighted unrequited love, turning the aura of summer into a song, unique abilities, and simply ‘flexing our equities’.

“Yeah, I definitely think that last one will go over well,” Jisung sardonically comments.

Changbin sighs in defeat and drags his cursor over his beloved idea, hitting the backspace in pity, “I knew you’d say that.”

“Can you elaborate on the unique abilities?” you ask, quieter than anticipated but still reaching its aim.

“Not to tute my own horn,” Changbin starts, running a hand through his hair, “but we’re sought after. When people see our names on tracklists, they immediately know the song is going to be good. They don’t sit and wonder if they’ll be disappointed, because they know with 3Racha that’s unpalatable. Hell, I saw someone tweet the other day that their favorite artist was spotted here, and the fandom went fucking crazy.

“People know what they expect from us, and that’s excellence. We deliver. You can’t say the same for a lot of producers. Doubt is inevitable for a lot of them, even if it’s only personal.”

“Couldn’t have said it better,” Jisung smirks, leaning his extended hand out to Changbin for him to high-five.

“What if we did it with an,” Chan hesitates, tilting his head at the screen to try and ease out the right words, “unnatural sound.”

“An experiment no one else could attempt,” you mumble, not expecting him to hear. His head snaps over to you, snapping, pointing a finger, and nodding.

“Exactly.”

The boys look between each other, bobbing their heads in agreement. “We can do that,” Jisung grins.

“You know, I had a feeling you would say that,” Changbin slips his phone out of his pocket, swiftly unlocking it and opening his notes app. “So I’ve already written my verse.”

“No way,” Jisung cocks his head at him.

“Okay,” Changbin mutters, “I had verses written for all the highlighted ones.”

“You are insane,” Chan chuckles, but not in an insulting tone.

From here on out, it’s smooth sailing.

v.

Until Jisung pats the pockets of his jeans two weeks later. “Shit,” he mutters, glancing back at the elevator you had just come from.

Midnight was around the corner and Jisung had promised Minho they’d go see the late-night showing of the latest horror film.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He turns to you with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “I think I left my phone in Chan’s room. I’m gonna be late. Minho’s gonna kill me.”

You cease his rambling by putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go get it. Just tell Minho to text me when you’re done so you can pick it up. ‘Kay?”

So what if Loba’s waiting for you at home, probably pawing at the front door and meowing like, “I’m hungry”? You have a profound soft spot for Jisung. And not because Minho threatened you if you ever showed any disliking. Plus, Loba’s spoiled in all other walks of her life. She can handle you coming home a little later than usual for one night.

He breathes a sigh of relief, looking up at the high ceiling in some kind of grateful manner. “You are a lifesaver, Y/N.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you smile, starting back to the elevator as he continues his path.

The company is rather unsettling without its daytime bustle. It’s even worse on the eighth floor. A usual ghost-town, except with an increased darkness and an odd chill trailing down your back.

The hallways feel stuffy as you get close to Chan’s office, your gaze set ahead. A sniffling sound seeps into your range of hearing, though you don’t think much of it. You can get colds in summer.

Naive to think a man as esteemed as Mr. Bang would succumb to a measly cold.

As you sneak your head between the cracked door, placing your hand around its width and slightly pushing forward, the view sends your heart crashing into your stomach. Chan’s head is lowered, either hand cupping his head as incessant tears drip from his nose.

Awkwardly stepping forward, you clear your throat.

His glossy eyes, rimmed with red and slightly puffy, jump up to you. Instinctively, he attempts to discard the evidence.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he croaks, pulling his sleeve over his hand and gliding it across his damp cheek.

That’s something he could learn. If someone’s a witness, you can expect them to ease into questions. It’s only nature.

“Do you need a hug?” you attempt. Don’t be forward, don’t be blunt, don’t be mean. Minho’s reminder blinks across your vision.

He laughs, “Maybe.”

A pitiful smile creeps onto your lips as you step around the desk. Your arms link semi-awkwardly around his shoulders. He presses his cheek against your collarbone, silently crying a little. You take careful breaths, trying to stabilize your chest for him.

“Does anyone know?” Your hand rubs soft circles against his back. He shakes his head against your body. A small hiccup shakes his frame.

“You can tell me if you want.”

“I don’t want to burden you,” he manages through his tears.

You pull back a little for him to look at you. “I will smack sense into you if you say some stupid shit like that again.” In spite of his eyes crinkling into a smile—looking at you like you’re a childhood friend who he knows like the back of his hand—you try to recover. “I swear, you won’t burden me.”

He takes in a shaky breath. A blaring thought curses the forefront of your eyes. “Do you mind if we go to my apartment, though? I have a hungry cat waiting for me.”

Your arms retreat to your sides as he nods and drags the back of his hand across either cheek. “Yeah, no problem.”

You glance over at the couch, and the object of your mission stares back at you. For a second, you swear it’s glowing gold and screaming, “Your quest ends here! Bring me to my owner!”

You shuffle for the couch and scoop it up. When Chan looks at your hand in confusion, you offer, “Jisung left it. I’m the delivery service.”

“Right.” And he smiles. Comfort engulfs your body when you notice the flood has stopped.

Since you normally walk or ride the bus to work, Chan drives. His shiny sports car looks rather alien beside your used, well-used, car.

“I should warn you,” you turn to him as you push your key into the lock, “Loba’s a cuddler.”

“Sweet. I’d feel bad asking you for more hugs,” he jokes.

Sure enough, Loba is lying before the door. She scrambles to her feet and stares up at her guardian and the new intruder. Conveniently misplacing her cries for food, she scopes out the new man.

“What’d you say her name was again?” Chan asks, squatting in front of her and scratching behind her ears.

“Loba,” you say, opening the fridge to dish out Loba’s expensive special food. Adopting a cat with stomach issues, am I right?

“Loba?” Chan repeats, stifling a laugh.

“I didn’t name her,” you turn to him in defense.

Chan lowers himself, crossing his legs as Loba climbs into his lap. The love-hungry cat doesn’t even notice when you set her ceramic bowl next to her water station. She’s too absorbed in her newfound friend.

Rather than forcing them to relocate to the couch, you sit offset from them on the tile. Smiling down at the orange cat, you admit, “She’s not even like this with Minho.”

“Really?” Chan’s amused face stuns a vibration in your chest.

You appeal confirmation.

“That’s crazy. I’m a dog person, normally,” he coos down at the lovebug.

Don’t let this distract you from the task at hand, you remind yourself.

“So,” you drag. How do you say this without tempting the tears again? Admittedly, it would be nice if you had an ounce of insight. You’re walking into a minefield without a blueprint of where they lie.

Chan sighs, acknowledging his cue. “My dad doesn’t really like me all too much,” he wryly laughs.

“He seems stupid then,” you offer, not thinking further than trying to comfort him, “You’re very likable.”

“Thank you,” Chan drags his tongue against his bottom lip.

He continues, “Moreso, he dislikes his father. The one who skipped a generation when trying to continue his legacy. By association, I kind of take the brunt of it.” He looks at you through blurry eyes as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you were the only person who could have continued the company. Your dad seems,” you hesitate, “insolent. You, on the other hand, are an ace.”

“I try to tell myself that. He makes me go to all of his business parties to keep his reputation up, as well as mine in a way. You don’t want the broken family running a huge corporation,” he mimics what he’s been told.

“So you can’t tune him out,” you echo.

“Yep,” he drags the word out, prompting a heavy sigh.

“I’m not really good at the whole comforting thing,” you study the creases of your palms. “But I’ll say that you are, by far, the most amazing person I could work for. You’re really admirable. Plus, Minho really likes you. You’re kind of like the brother he never had.”

“God, you’re gonna make me cry,” he laughs, staring up at the light as he pulls a hand away from Loba to wipe at his waterline.

“I’m serious,” you chuckle. “Would I blow smoke up your ass if you’re crying on my floor with my cat in your arms?”

When he hesitates to respond, you do it for him. “The answer is no. I don’t even do that for Minho.”

“That’s comforting,” he admits.

“I’d hope so. Now, hand me your phone,” you stick your hand out.

“Why?”

“So I can give you my number. Text me if stuff goes downhill, now that I’m in the loop.”

He looks at you quizzically.

“What? Do you think I’m going to let you suffer in silence now that I know?”

He leans to the side, cradling Loba protectively, as he draws his phone from his pocket. Unlocking it before he hands it to you.

As you type in a new contact, you say, “Do you want something to eat? I can order a pizza.”

vi.

Unfortunately, peace is temporary. Always and forever.

When you enter Chan’s office a few weeks after the father debacle, prepared to start the official recording of the album as decided on the previous day, you’re met with two confused men. Admittedly, you’re a little late, but not enough for them to be lost.

Changbin looks up at you as you cross the threshold. “Have you seen Chan?”

You shake your head.

“Heard from him?” Jisung follows.

Again, you shake your head.

“Shit,” they both fall back against the couch cushions in defeat.

“What’s wrong?” The grip on your bag tightens. Despite your inquisitive words, your gut gives you a fair answer.

“We haven’t heard from him since five this morning,” Changbin looks at Jisung for confirmation on the details.

“No one’s seen him?” you follow up.

“No one. He won’t answer our group chat either.”

Your foot taps against the floor as you try to remain composed. He texted you last night about his dad’s upcoming gala but was sparse about details. Or about the fact he would straight up disappear. Obviously, you can’t offer this information to them. A promise is a promise, even if half unspoken.

“Should we work through it? Get his parts whenever he decides to show up?” Changbin speaks.

“We can’t exactly meander anymore. Tracklist goes out at noon,” Jisung shakes his phone as annoyingly clear evidence.

“And you still need to learn the choreo for the title track,” you add. There’s only a month left. You bite your tongue, allowing the pain to slightly calm you down.

“God, what horrible timing,” Jisung laughs, but no joy laces through his tone.

You point harsh eyes at them, heavy steps leading you to the microphone stand designated for recording. “Come on then. Let’s get ahead before we can fall behind.”

vii.

You leave work the moment recording is done for the day, a discovery pulling you from focusing on anything else. Chan shared his location with you a few days ago when he offered a reciprocal to what you’ve done for him. “So you can always find me,” he said via text.

Though not for the right purpose, per se, you’re going to find him. And when you do, you might have to smack sense into him this time. With love, you convince yourself as you pull up to the stadium.

Who in their right mind rents an indoor stadium for an evening party? Rich people, evidently.

You find Chan’s car, among its shiny counterparts, and park as close to it as you can. As you get out, you pull your phone out of your pocket and call him. Not expecting him to answer, honestly.

“Hello?” his voice penetrates your ears.

“I’m outside,” you say, fighting the heavy heartbeat echoing in your head. Your hands tremble at the thought of him here, all dressed up and acting like nothing’s wrong.

“What?” he mumbles.

You look up to the big screen above the gate. “Gangnam Public Stadium, right?”

The background noise slightly fades as he says, “Wait where you are, I’ll come meet you.”

“Parking lot,” you offer before he hangs up.

You step into the shade and lean against a brick wall.

Today’s one of the finer days of summer. It’s mid-June. The solstice is just around the corner. A light breeze brushes against your skin and gently ruffles your hair. It probably helps that you’re surrounded by wealthy cars. A mood booster, in a weird way.

Quick, heavy steps draw closer. You turn your head to the source.

Chan drops his hands onto his knees as he pants. “You shouldn’t be here,” he manages.

“You should’ve told someone why you wouldn’t be at work. We all have our regrets,” you nibble on the inside of your cheek as you stare at him.

“God,” he mutters, straightening himself before standing next to you against the wall.

“You’ll get your suit dirty,” you comment, but he doesn’t care.

“You should leave.” His eyes, heavy with an emotion akin to irritation and sadness, scan over your face.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me why you did this,” you stand your ground. Just like Minho would hate in a moment like this. “To get to a person, you have to ease them into it,” he guided at one point. Frankly, you couldn’t care less right now.

He avoids your eyes as he tries to flatten his staggered breathing. In due time, he composes himself and finally looks at you. His features have loosened, and you note his brow is no longer creased.

“I didn’t want to lose my cool in front of them,” he admits.

“Scared to?”

He nods. “It was scary enough having one person see me cry.”

The place between your heart and ribs begins to pulsate heat.It begins to spread across your bones and through your muscles. For once, you have to think about what to say next. You can’t be mad at him, for his reasoning makes more sense than it had before. God, this is irritating.

“Let’s make the song of the summer, then,” you reassure him with a curt nod. “Pull you out of this monster field around you and let’s make history.”

The dark surrounding encasing him cracks away as an unbelievable smile finds its place. One like you have never seen. One that pierces your heart with its joy. “Let’s do it.” And he drags you into a hug. Despite the roles taking a quick turn, you feel comforted. But he’s squeezing the life out of you.

viii.

You’ve done all you can do for 3Racha within the next week. The album is complete, as far as instrumentals and lyrics. All that’s left is promotion, along with all the theatrical elements left to be discussed. But that’s separate from you.

It feels bittersweet that it’s come to an end. You know that sometime in the future you’ll return to the studio with them, working alongside creative geniuses to invent a piece. Together. That’s the key. But it feels so far away.

You sit in your empty office, staring at the broad window as raindrops fall down the glass. Recounting the process in your head with distant gratitude. Title track: God’s Menu. You’re proud of it, viewing it as your child. Watching it grow into a real song, with real words and sounds attached to it. Wow. You catch a glimpse at the meaning of life as you watch two raindrops race down. It’s this: blossoming art from a tiny idea. Admittedly not entirely your own, but the principle remains.

The other tracks enlist an equal amount of precious memories for you. Late nights felt normal with the unreal energy coursing through your veins. You notice the products of effort as you consider all those extra hours. Admiration shoots through your body, leaving it numb.

It was all them, though, you acknowledge. You were only there as a caretaker, offering your own hint to mark the music.

3Racha is like a shooting star. It's fantastic, in a sense. Not everyone can say they’ve seen a shooting star in the same way not many can say they’ve witnessed the production process with three of the most talented producers in the game. They’re unreal.

A knock against your doorframe shocks you out of your thoughts. You drag your foot against the floor to turn your chair.

Chan, dressed in an outfit similar to that of boys’ night, awaits your attention. Sweat lines his forehead, glistening his skin. You can guess where he’s been.

“Hey.”

“I need your help.” His words were trailing your simple greeting so close you could say he interrupted you. Seriousness brings his face into a dimness, slightly intimidating you.

“With?” you prompt.

He leans against the frame with his arm, replaying his words in his head over and over before spitting them out, “I kind of told my dad I’d bring a date to his next party.”

“Oh?” you say, slowly realizing. “Oh.”

“Will you do it?” His features twist into a nervous reflection.

“Sure, if you pay for my outfit.”

You say this as a joke, but he fails to convey it this way. “Deal. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Does Loba need a cat tree by any chance?”

He doesn’t await your answer as he slips back into the hall. Was that conversation even real?

An indistinguishable whiplash conquers your body into a sudden realization. You turn to your desk, scooping your phone into your hands and texting Minho, beginning with, “When you see this…”

ix.

Certainly, Chan is a man of his word. From the mere month you’ve known him, you should have gathered this. But as you stand in his living room, decked out in some outfit he carefully chose for you, it blares against all of your senses in bright, evident clarity.

Minho’s message buzzes against your palm.

Lee Knows: Loba’s conked already, two minutes after she ate. Have fun ;)

You: Lol thanks again for taking care of her.

Lee Knows: Of course. Anything for my bestest friend in the world. Now, a night of yearning!

The only way to describe this feeling rooted in the base of your stomach are the words: raw emotion. It’s a cluster. Jitters mixed with a blend of uncertainty and a weird elation? To be fair, you are about to lie your way through expensive drinks and hors d’oeuvres. What even are those?

Regardless, one thing is certain. Minho was right. It’s...discouraging to admit. Frankly, you’d ignore it for as long as possible if you could. But adoration is difficult. In your face. Forward, some would refer to it as.

God, this is all Minho’s fault.

“Ready?” Chan’s shoes click against the hardwood as he departs from his dark hole of a room. He looks stunning, though his attire isn’t much different from his office wear. A small sign of rebellion appears in his appearance, which ignites a flame in your chest.

Chan brings a hand to where your eyes are burning a whole into—his hair. The curls are there, less accentuated than bro night, but evident. “Ah, I didn’t really want to straighten it. I’ve already had fried hair one too many times in my life.”

“It looks nice,” you smile. Your throat tightens as you swallow. “You look nice.”

“Same for you,” he allows a prolonged scan of you. Sheepishly, you do one of those cheesy twirls you always see in the romance movies before Prom night or whatever expensive evening the protagonists are attending. Sincerely, with all the love rampaging through your chest, you’re going to kill Minho for cursing your life like this.

He snaps out of his trance, starting for the door. “We should get going.”

Aside from the quiet hum of the radio, the ride to the venue is silent. It wouldn’t be complete without hitting every redlight, either. Jisung’s luck must have rubbed off on you when you had that group hug.

You sit at one now, red gleaming against your face as you stare out at the sidewalk vacant of pedestrians. No one’s even at any of the other lights.

“You okay?” Chan asks.

“Yeah,” you turn back to him.

“Good,” he nods, instantly averting your eyes.

Perhaps you should have found a way to decline. Even Loba would have been a better date option. At least she has chemistry with him.

x.

To no one’s surprise, the venue is huge. Potentially larger than the stadium. From ceiling to the carpeted floor, decorated properly with the black tie theme.

Chan reluctantly grabs your hand before you tackle the crowd. If you were cold, the warmth radiating against your palm is sufficient for heating the rest of your body. Unluckily, though, you aren’t cold. Your hand feels clammy in his. If he wasn’t attracted to you before, he certainly isn’t now.

You stare at your shoes as you follow.

“Just a heads up about my dad,” he glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re still there, despite the tether between you, “he most definitely thinks we’re dating, so be prepared for questions.”

“Oh great,” you mumble. How do you cure a lovesick heart? What an ambiguous question offering up to a plethora of potential answers. One incorrect answer, though: acting out romance. In real time, too.

“Sorry, I probably should have told you sooner. Kind of slipped my mind,” he squeezes your hand in apology.

Even when you break out into a free space, his hand doesn’t pull from yours. Instead, he slightly tightens the hold as he approaches an older man. Without any prior knowledge (ie. not Googling his dad after he cried on your kitchen floor over the bastard), you could guess this is his dad. They practically have the same face. Striking differences, however, given some context.

“Hey,” the man grins, eyes shifting curiously between you and his son.

You dip your head in respect. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Bang.”

His hand claps your shoulder as you look up. “You don’t have to be so formal with me.” Silence hangs onto the end of his sentence as he glances at Chan for help.

“Y/N,” Chan offers. Your name sounds pretty coming from him.

“Y/N,” his father repeats. You want to sock him for saying your name.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Would have been nicer if Chan had given a little notice,” he laughs for you, alternatively offering a subtle, but not unnoticeable, glare to Chan.

Reflexively, your unoccupied hand clenches until you feel your nails pressing sharply into your skin. Discreetly, you nudge Chan’s arm with your elbow as a sign that you’re here. Slightly, his hand loosens in yours as his nerves slowly ease.

“Sorry, it’s kind of recent,” Chan laughs. His eyes crinkle into a faux delight.

“Of course,” his father nods. “Haven’t seen any articles about it yet, which is good. You might not want this being exposed to the GP.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Chan manages through gritted teeth, albeit hidden in a way only you could notice.

Then, as if the attack didn’t have a cooldown, he reaches up and tugs at one of Chan’s curls. “Your hair looks...interesting.”

It’s really difficult trying to remain neutral in the face of backhanded advice and compliments. Especially in front of this man, who shouldn’t even be given a title as esteemed as that. He’s scum stuck to the back of your old, rusty car that won’t go away in spite of however many power washes.

“Mr. Bang,” a waiter appears behind him, stealing his attention long enough for you to drag Chan in the opposite direction. He’ll find his way into a business conversation soon anyway. With no recollection of what he said to his son whatsoever. Considering his words will always stick with Chan, your face heats up.

You ignore Chan’s repelling tug, and his words that go in one ear and out the other. A hidden area near the bar is the only place where he has enough courage to stop you. But only because you let it happen.

“If we stayed there much longer, I would have caught an assault charge,” you huff.

“You handled it well, though,” he admits, “Even if you were about to break my hand.”

In the face of anger personified, he manages to smile and crack a laugh.

“Sorry,” you mumble, finally pulling your hand away from his.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asks, glancing back at the bartender serving an established looking woman a margarita. Likely strawberry from its tint.

You shake your head, “I’m good. Thank you.”

“Well, then, I’ll be back,” he reaches out to rub your shoulder before slipping back into the crowd. You’re jealous of the effect he has to just become invisible.

You pull your phone from its hidden spot and open Minho’s awaiting text.

Lee Knows: Has he made a move yet?

You: Why would he?

Lee Knows: Idk you’re kind of obvious.

Before you can answer, an incoming notification from Seungmin pops up.

Seungmo: Is it true that you like Chan?

Minho. Lee Minho. You grimace.

You: No comment.

Seungmo: Sweet. Jeongin owes me twenty bucks. But ew. Who would romantically like Chan?

The text really ties together with the barfing emoji.

“Who’s that?” the subject of both text logs peeks his head over your phone.

You snatch it back, instinctively turning it off. “Seungmin.”

“I didn’t know you were friends with him,” Chan observes, placing the black straw between his lips. His drink is also tinted pink, but not in a margarita glass.

“Minho built the bridge during bro night. Now we plot behind his back,” you joke, promptly making Chan choke. He coughs, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he sputters.

“Don’t do that when I’m drinking!” he laughs.

Your chest heaves as you try to stifle the laugh building up in your chest.

“Oh come on, you’re even gonna have the nerve to laugh at me?” he tips his head to look at your quivering frame. He finds this funny, but he can’t just not tease you. That’s not in the rule book.

“I’m not laughing,” you try to convince him, lips pressed into a fine line as quick breaths leave your nose.

“Right,” he rolls his eyes.

If he were being honest with you, he was doing this as a ploy to take your mind off of his dad. Honesty isn’t one of his finer points, though. So he stays quiet.

“Do you want a sip?” he offers the fruity looking drink to you.

“What is it?” you ask, but accepting the glass anyway.

“Just a strawberry mimosa.”

Again, if he were honest, he’d tell you he only got it to share with you. It was a shot in the dark, neutral enough. But, again, not one of his stronger urges. Minho would refer to this as him ‘making a move’, unbeknownst to you.

You take a quick sip. Humming in approval, you hand it back to him. “It’s good, I can barely even taste the alcohol.”

He fixes his hair absentmindedly as a passing conversation arises. Subject: Minho. Goal: offering both parties ammunition for his next offhand comment or prank.

“Did you know that Minho talks in his sleep?” you laugh.

Chan pulls at a curl, pulling it straight. “He seems like the type.”

You reach up and flick his wrist.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Stop thinking about what your dad said,” you scold. The nerves in your stomach dissipate as your hand ruffles his hair, fluffing it out. He looks more relaxed as you pull away.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t apologize, or I’ll punch you next time.”

“I can see why you and Minho get along so well.”

xi.

By the time you’re set free from the hell of socializing with all of Chan’s dad’s friends who last saw him when he was ‘this high’, the effects of the single mimosa wear off. Luckily for Chan, you drank most of it, so he’s set to drive.

“My feet hurt,” you complain. Maybe it would have been smart to break in the fancy shoes Chan invested for you before the event.

“Do you want me to carry you?” Chan asks, turning to you.

Against all voices inside of you screaming to decline, your pain receptors answer for you. “That’d be great, since you're offering.”

He bends his knees slightly and holds his arms slightly out. When you jump onto his back, he doesn’t even react.

“Do you religiously workout or something?” you joke, though true curiosity shines through your words. You’re pretty obvious.

“Duh. Every breathing moment I’m not working or crying over my dad. It’s a stress reliever.” Your arms, hanging from his neck, feel each vibration in his chest as he laughs.

As he readjusts his hands beneath your thighs, maintaining a steady hold of your body against his, your body grows warm and you can envision your cheeks glowing red. Minho was so right. And the field day he’s going to have with the upcoming weeks until the joke grows stale. You shiver at the thought.

“Are you cold?” Chan asks.

“Oh, no, I was just thinking about Minho.”

“Scary,” Chan mimics his own shiver at the mention.

You press your cheek against his shoulder, his steady steps drawing your eyes shut.

The silence you find is unparalleled to the one in the car earlier. This one is comfortable, homely even. So much so that you feel yourself fall asleep.

xii.

When you get to his apartment, he nudges your shoulder.

Your eyes slowly open, fighting against the dull light from the roof of his car.

“You can spend the night at my house. I’m not confident in pulling a sleeping body out of a car. Putting you in was hard enough,” he chuckles.

You manage a smile and hazily push the passenger door open. From the rest, your feet should be fine walking to the elevator (since there’s one less body than bro night, you’ll fit) and to his apartment. Still, he wraps his arm around your shoulders to steady you all the way up to his front door.

“I’ll grab you some clothes,” he says as you fall onto his couch. You didn’t acknowledge how comfortable it was just from sitting on it. Honestly, it feels like a normal mattress.

He returns from his room quickly with a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. Both black, as you could have guessed.

You walk to the bathroom and sleepily tug your fancy outfit off, careful not to ruin it. As you pull his shirt over your head, a rush of his cologne hugs you. You fight off the ‘I could get used to this’ comment that floats through your head.

You don’t remember walking back to the couch. But you remember Chan pulling a blanket up to your chin.

xiii.

Chan pokes your cheek, drawing you away from your precious dream of living in a cottage on the seafront—conveniently with him. You whine, pulling the blanket over your head in an attempt to ward him away. Dream Chan is waiting for you.

“Y/N, come on. You can’t sleep on my couch all day.” The worst part is: you can hear the faux pout in his voice. And potentially worse: you definitely could sleep on this couch all day if your life depended on it. Even if it didn’t, to be honest.

“Go away,” you grumble.

He sighs. His presence beside you disappears for a few moments, long enough for sleep to momentarily return. The bubble of peace pops eventually.

“Hey, Minho,” his voice returns, slightly muffled by the distance and the cloth pressed against your ear.

This is enough to spring liveliness into your bones. You sit up, hateful eyes shooting in the direction of the voice. When you see him laughing, his dark phone pressed against his ear, you reel. “One of these days, I’m gonna leave your company and then your stocks are gonna plummet,” you groan.

“Is that the best insult you can come up with?” he counters, dropping his hoisted arm to his side.

“I have more, but they're still closed off. You know, since you’ve rudely interrupted my sleep.”

“I’m sorry. Not really, though. It’s like noon.”

“And?”

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he laughs.

“What, do you have a date to attend?”

Awaiting his response, you reach for your phone on the coffee table. Two missed calls. A few Snapchats from Seungmin, likely pictures of his new puppy, but no matter.

“I wish. I have to meet up with Jisung. Pressing news he has to tell me, too confidential to be told over text.”

“He’s gonna confess,” you shoot him a look.

“Yes, because Han Jisung would be in love with me,” he starts for the kitchen. An extended arm pulls at the fridge, and he pulls two waters out.

“To be fair, if I were Jisung, I’d probably be in love with you,” you say, obviously without much thought behind it.

Okay. In your defense, you were a little too focused on reading Minho’s latest string of confusing messages. Trying to decipher the code, Chan’s response passes right through you like a ghost.

Lee Knows: Y/N you won’t believe this.

Lee Knows: Loba’s gonna be so happy.

Lee Knows: I know you’re probably cuddled up with Chan or whatever but call me ASAP.

Chan lowers himself beside you, tossing the cold water in your lap. He peeks over your shoulder. “Huh. That’s pretty much what Jisung said to me.”

“Why are you invading my privacy?” you glare at him, considering elbowing him precisely between the ribs. Ultimately deciding against it, of course. Through tense internal conflict.

“Really? You’re sitting on my couch, in my clothes, refusing to leave, and you wanna talk about privacy?”

Just because he has a point doesn’t mean he should voice it. Plus, he offered the clothes. And the couch for you to sleep on. It really just seems like a self jab to you.

“Should I call him?” Your finger glides across your bottom lip as you look at him for an answer.

“Sure, why not?” he throws his hands up in defeat. “Let’s see what Jisung and Minho have conspired this time.”

The ring echoing sparks a nervous pit in your stomach. You pick at the sticker of the water bottle. It feels like forever by the time he answers.

“Morning, sunshine,” Minho’s sweet voice reeks of sarcasm.

“You’re on speaker, by the way,” you close your eyes to avoid looking at Chan’s burning eyes.

“Oh perfect, you are too,” Jisung joins in, a dry laugh escaping his throat.

“We have some questions,” Minho begins, but fails to continue.

“Such as?” Chan prompts.

“Are you guys dating yet?” Jisung bluntly jumps to the case.

Your heart rams against your chest. That ‘yet’ tugs at your insides.

“Uh, no,” you draw out.

“The media sure thinks otherwise,” Minho jabs.

Chan’s already searching for the articles by the time you can react.

“Fuck.” He throws his head back against the couch in frustration, tilting his phone towards you so you can see.

CEO Bang Chan Lands a Date Weeks Before Comeback.

Bang Caught With Employee?

Bang Chan, CEO, Makes a Striking Appearance at Dad’s Gala.

“What? Did you really think there wouldn’t be journalists there? Come on Chan, do better.” You never knew Jisung had this cutting edge to him. If the words were aimed at you, you know you’d break down. It’s a miracle that Chan is this composed.

“Can you calm down? My god,” you say without realizing. “It’s not like we can’t fix this.” How, though, you ponder?

“If it makes you feel any better,” Minho reluctantly says, like this sentence could put his life on the line, “you looked cute.”

“Thanks,” you mutter. In any other circumstance, you’d be quick to mock him. Well. At least he’s not outwardly making fun of you. Another one of Minho’s late night insights seeping into your thoughts: see the positive.

A text notification drops down against your screen. Despite having the luxury of using his voice, it’s Minho.

Lee Knows: Would now be a bad time to out you?

You: Horribly.

“Well,” Jisung draws in a sharp breath.

“Good luck,” Minho finishes for him.

After he hangs up, promptly after letting you know he fed Loba this morning, you pick up the water bottle and place it against your cheek. The shocking chill redirects your nerves momentarily.

You try not to look at Chan, but you know he’s looking at you.

After a moment to catch your breath, he sighs, “I have an idea.”

It takes an effort to pull your attention to him. A war against yourself.

“Play along with me for a second,” he says, pulling his leg beneath him as he repositions himself beside you. Fully facing you, taking in your entire being—which doesn’t help your burning skin. You’d give anything to be invisible right now.

“What if,” he starts, “we go along with it?”

You laugh in his face. “Are you sure that wouldn’t blow up even worse? Imagine people finding out we faked it. That wouldn’t be good for you.”

He messes with his fingers, suddenly finding an intense interest in the linework of them. He rubs his thumb against the crease of his ring finger. “I don’t think anyone would have to find out it’s fake, per se.”

“How are you so confident?” You look at him in awe. Even when he’s spewing absolute nonsense and under pressure, he looks like a god. Calm as ever. It’s horrifying for your heart. And for common sense, but that’s not as important right now.

“I don’t think Minho would lie to me.”

“What does Minho have to do with this?”

His dimple shows itself as a measly smile crosses his lips. “He may have told me.”

Regardless of what he may have spilled, you know instantly. “You’re kidding me,” you huff. What was the point of his dramatic message, then? A distraction, maybe.

“I mean it’s okay. It’s not like it’s not reciprocated or anything.”

“You are unbelievable,” you shake your head. “How did you know and not say a single thing?”

His hands shoot up in defense. “To be fair, I didn’t find out until after you fell asleep last night. For the second time. He texted me with this whole ‘I know something you don’t’ facade. I wasn’t going to act on it until I had a stupidly romantic plan, but then this happened,” he gestures around the room, as if it’s the decor’s fault. He’s quick to add, “And I couldn’t do that as soon as they said anything about the articles. That’d kinda ruin the mood, don’t you think?”

So Chan’s probably not good with looking amazing under pressure—he very well could be, but you wouldn’t know that right now. Which slightly irritates you, but no matter.

“Well,” you sigh. “I guess that solves the problem.”

He nods, looking at you solemnly.

“Your dad’s gonna be pissed, though,” you comment, and he laughs.

“I know.”

Funny. As soon as the problem jumped at you, the imminent solution scared you just as fast. Your head hurts from the whiplash. That must be a pattern with him.

“You know what’s kinda perfect about this?” he says after a moment.

“Tell me.”

“We can write love songs together now. Isn’t that cool?” The sheer joy in his face shatters any aggravation left in your veins. A smile creeps up on you.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“And you’re madly in love with a nerd so I don’t see what your point is.”

You pull the pillow out from behind your back and chuck it at his head.

“Oh so you’re trying to kill your beloved love interest? Real classy, Y/N.”

“Please just shut up and kiss me already,” you lean over halfway and wait for him to meet you.

Kissing a major CEO doesn’t feel much different than kissing a normal person, but there’s a striking flare of passion to it. Maybe that’s a personal thing.

His lips fit against yours in a way that makes your soul instantly tethered to him. You hope he can’t feel your heartbeat against your lips, for it’s pulsing rather loud and antsy for you.

Chan radiates warmth in every piece of his body, extending all the way to his aura. If it wasn’t for your pesky lungs running out of air, you’d never pull away.

xiv.

In spite of his idea for a romantic confession going down the drain as soon as he decided to think one up, he makes up for it with incessant gestures. Bringing you snacks when he should be in meetings. Buying you sweets when you get stressed. Purchasing Loba a huge cat tree, even though she doesn’t need to be spoiled further. Spending the night at your house even when his is way more comfortable for the sheer reason that Loba would feel lonely.When you mention taking her with you, he’d say, “I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable with the new environment.”

He even postponed bro night because you got sick and wanted to be the one to take care of you.

You don’t need reminders that he loves you, but it’s all the while heartwarming when he says it.

Even now, with his arm wrapped around your waist and his chin propped on your shoulder, he’s thinking aloud in romance land. “What if we went on a vacation to France for Christmas? Isn’t Paris the city of love?”

You watch the TV, but his voice drowns out all of the dialogue. “I don’t know, Chan. Why can’t we stay here?” you shift in his arms to roll over and face him. This close, as you’ve grown accustomed to these past months, you can count all of his eyelashes. And you can see tiny freckles scattered across his cheeks. It must be an Aussie thing.

He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “We can stay here. I’m fine with that.”

Loba jumps onto the bed, her collar jingling with her sudden movement to warn you she’s arrived. You pull away from Chan a little to make room for her between you. “Here comes the princess,” you feign disappointment with a sigh.

She claims her spot between your chests and curls herself into a ball, burying her face in Chan’s chest. Per usual. She often forgets who feeds her around here.

“Anyway,” Chan leans over her, kissing your lips gently, “I’m okay wherever. As long as you’re with me.”

After a beat of silence, you cup his cheek delicately and say, “Let’s go to the moon.”

“Yeah,” he grins, “Let’s go to the moon.”

xv.

He leans over and presses a kiss to your temple, setting a bottle of water in front of you.

Jisung gags from across the room. “Get a room,” he complains.

“You are a grown man and you can’t handle a couple being affectionate?” Changbin criticizes. “Get a life, dude.”

“Yeah,” you chime in, “Just ‘cos you live a poor, single life doesn’t mean you can hate on us.”

“Jeez, I didn’t sign up for slander on this Monday morning.”

“You definitely asked for it, but let’s get to work.” Chan draws his phone from his pocket and prepares for the official meeting regarding 3Racha’s next comeback.

God’s Menu was well received from the public, sending Chan’s dating scandal into the shadows. Minho basked in the compliments on the choreography. Seungmin whined when no one on Twitter noticed he was the vocal coach—and Minho didn’t make it much better by rubbing his glory in Seungmin’s face every chance he got. And you couldn’t get Chan to stop showing you funny Tweets and praise for nearly a month. Likely longer.

Here you sit in Chan’s office at the beginning of the new year. A lot of things can go south during six months, but things can shoot north too. Generally, for you, it’s been pretty north.

This time around, Jisung has calculated his homework and broadcasts his thoughts onto the wall.

“I already know what you’re gonna choose for the title track, so let’s choose B-sides,” he adds the disclaimer before anyone can mutter a peep.

“I don’t know about you all,” Chan dips his hands into the pockets of his trousers and leans against his desk, “but I’d say I’m pretty confident in writing a love song right now.”

You groan alongside Jisung. “Stop talking.”

Here we go on the hunt for the song of the new year. Conquer the competition before anyone has a chance. Like you did in creating the song of the summer.

[retvenkos]

“would it be terribly cheesy if i said ‘it was always you’?”

requested by @biqherosix STRAP IN, FOLKS, BECAUSE TODAY WE ARE TAKING A LOOK AT WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE FOR EJ CASWELL TO HAVE A CRUSH ON A NORTH HIGH STUDENT...

so first of all, you and ej knew each other long before you ran into each other in high school. because, you see, you went to junior high together, and in those days, both you and ej were on dance company 

(you can pry dance company! ej from my cold, dead fingers)

you were arguably the better dancer, and seventh grade ej really wanted to prove himself. a baby competition sprouted between the two of you, but it was nothing big.

you both liked to show off in order to taunt the other, and you both got a kick out of trying to one up each other.

but at the same time, you were teammates. you did everything together.

so the bond between you and ej was strong. it was a competition, yes, but it was friendly competition and you both actually hyped each other a lot. 

plus, dance company does a lot of things as a group, so it was unavoidable. you were going to end up liking each other at some point. luckily, it happened sooner rather than later, and the two of you built up a nice rapport with one another - a closeness forged in friendly competition and last minute studying parties.

but all that changed when you went to north high and ej went to east high

now, since north high is completely fictional, i get to create the dynamic between the schools, so listen up everyone!

north high clearly has the better arts department, and they also have the better tennis and softball team.

east high has the better stem department as well as a better swim team and any other swim related sports.

west high has the better sport teams overall - basketball, football, volleyball, etc.

(that's why we never see any uber jocks at east high—)

now, clearly you have your boundary school, but people get on special permit all the time, and when you say you’re going to north high ej is like ???? but why ???

“they have a better arts department, ej, you know that!”

“well, yeah, but east high is the best. we always said we were going to be wildcats!”

“ej.... they’re actually leopards.”

it wasn’t a super emotional goodbye. you promised to stay in touch, and it wasn’t like it was hard. you still saw each other around the mall, you still followed each other on instagram and what not but.... time just got between you.

you slowly stop texting, you see each other less, when you see each other in public you do that thing where you give a smile but then don’t go over to say hi, because you’re wrapped up in other people. it’s not pointed things, you just... stop talking.

and you still like each others photos on instagram but you’re just... there. 

all of that changes, however, when carlos asks you to help him choreograph hsm.

at the time, the rivalry between schools wasn’t big, it was just a low simmer, and the reason carlos approached you was because once upon a time, you, ej, and him had all been in dance company together for one (1) year (it all comes full cIRCLE) and for one of your performances, you had done something hsm related.

carlos wanted to know if you remembered the routine and could help him come up with something slightly more advanced.

and while you and carlos hadn’t really kept up with one another, he jokingly brought up a time where he did something for you, and how you always said you’d pay him back one day and maybe now it was time to cash it in??

you decided why not? you’ve done a lot of stuff for north high’s dance company, but you’ve never helped out in a musical before (and as you can imagine, north high is very competitive in their arts)

so you joined the hsm cast as co-choreographer.

now, because you had your own north high dance company stuff to deal with, you end up missing a lot of rehearsals. you mostly brainstorm with carlos and add tweaks to the choreo. carlos is the one to really ~teach~ things.

which means that while you are present for ~the drama~ that was ej-nini-ricky, you actually miss a lot of it. you feel the tension, but exactly why it’s Like That is beyond you.

you tried to ask carlos once but he said he wasn’t going to get into that, thank you.

and honestly, you have competitions to keep up with, so you’re not fixated on it. you’re just hoping that they’re not still pissed at each other on opening night, when ej has to strap ricky in for “getcha head in the game”

and while you’ve chatted with ej a couple of times, you haven’t had much time to catch up.

you actually bond a lot with gina, who is on the same level as you in terms of dance. you end up talking and mention how ej was once on dance company, and that rocks her world because ej???

and that’s when you show her all of the old videos you archived on your instagram from your junior high days. carlos, ej, and you all in dance company. they’re precious.

and when ej’s friendships are strained and he doesn’t have anyone to turn to, he sees you and gina laughing and crowding over your phone, and he comes to say hi.

and thus, the friendship begins again.

it is, of course, slow going because so much time has come between you, and gina and carlos (the two you hang with the most) are not on great terms with ej, but you guys grow really close all over again. ej is glad to have another senior to talk to about college, and you’re glad you have an old friend to talk to because it’s easy to feel out of place in this school that isn’t yours.

and on opening night, you know ej gifts you something - maybe it’s a jacket or beanie with the wildcats emblem on it.

“it’s kinda stupid, but we always said we were going to be wildcats together, and we did it.”

“huh, i guess we did.”

and for some reason, you chest is really warm, and you can feel the heat sneak up to your cheeks.

“this is really sweet, ej.”

“well, you know me.”

“yeah, i guess i do.”

and then it’s his cue to get ready to go on stage.

“oh! and there should be another surprise coming, don’t hate me for not telling you!”

and you’re ??? but it turns out to be gina.

you all clearly go to denny's afterward to celebrate, and if ej feels his heart seize in his chest everytime you laugh or steal one of gina’s fries, it’s not an unfamiliar feeling. because really, it had always been like that, with you. you never cease to amaze him.

and once you’re on the east high theatre group chat, you never get taken off of it, so you know everything that’s going on with your theatre buddies, after hsm has finished.

and this is where a conflict of interest really comes in...

because, you see, once hsm is a hit, some of the theatre kids at north high think you’re a traitor. you gave east high their secrets, and now east high is an actual contender. uncool, (y/n).

so you kind of get iced out by a lot of north high kids. like i said. competition there is  s t e e p  and you’ve been accused of fraternizing with the enemy..

but when zach roy shows up and he hears about the drama surrounding one (y/n) (l/n), he gets an idea... so he approaches you one day after dance company practice...

“he asked you to do wHAT?”

you’re texting ej, carlos, and gina in a group chat

“he asked me to co-choreograph their show.”

“are you going to do it?” - carlos

“of course they are! do you think opportunities like this just fall out of the sky?” - gina

“i don’t know, though, i feel like he’s working some angle with me. there’s something about him that doesn’t feel genuine.”

“it’s those piercing blue eyes.” - carlos

“i have piercing blue eyes!”

“and you’ve never done anything underhanded?” - gina

“we did that together!”

“what should i do?”

“accept, clearly!” - gina

“i’d be careful, if i were you. miss jenn doesn’t trust him for a reason.” - carlos

“it’s up to you, (y/n). you’ll do great, and it’s a great opportunity.”

“but?”

and everyone can feel the pause - the conflict where ej doesn’t know what to say.

“but nothing! this is a HUGE opportunity! he’s dancer extraordinaire derek hough zach roy! i’d be the villain of your eventual documentary if i were to try to hold you back.”

“okay... i think i’ll do it. you know how competitive things are, here. this could really give me a boost.”

“hell yeah, (y/n)!” - gina

“spy on their production for us?” - carlos

“anything for you <3″

i imagine you clash a lot with lily, but you actually become really good friends with howie and antoine. but that’s beside the point.

and while things are on good terms at first, your bond with your wildcats stays strong, and you’re carving out a place in north high rehearsals, lily is quick to find out that you’re on the east high group chat.

and because this is hsmtmts, i get to have some fun with this premise.

lily gets some kind of tech nerd on her side, and she gets him to make it so that somehow, the text that you get from the theatre group also send to her phone, for maximum stalking of the competition. that’s how she always gets one step ahead of east high.

and as north high seemingly continues to have insider info on east high, someone suspects there’s a leak.... which leads to you. who else has access to north high? so they send a fake text and wait to see if north high takes the bait.

they do. so now east high thinks it’s you.

but at this same time, you keep noticing that suspiciously, whenever you get a text from east high theatre department, lily’s phone goes off to. literally at the same moment, you’re doing your own test to see if somehow she hacked your phone.

(you had your suspicions because lily is actually terribly bad at hiding her hand and constantly makes remarks that make you Think™.)

you confirm lily to have hacked your phone, and so you go old school and show up to east high, hoping to tell them what happened and find some fix (since east high is the mother of all tech schools in this universe.)

but when you walk into the auditorium, the cast is being really passive aggressive toward you? and you’re so confused? what happened?

of course, ricky is the only to confront you because these days, it seems like he’s always one (1) moment away from blowing up.

and you explain that you were played just as much as they were - it was never your intention to betray them. east high is your family.

“oh, yeah? i’ve never known an east high leopard to go to north high.”

and so now we’re in shambles! we’re divided! 

you leave, upset, and ej catches you in the hall. he tries to explain that ricky’s been on one, recently, that none of his anger was really meant for you, and that he believes you - truly. he knows you’re the last person to ever betray them. you’re not like that. that’s more him than it is you.

and you just give him the world’s biggest  h u g .

now you’re probably wondering why i insisted on this particular plot line, but let me tell you - ej never really understood completely what a complete breach of trust it was for him to steak nini’s phone and violate her privacy like that. now he can see how deeply it affects you - how it can really ruin people in ways you never intend. it’s about the learning curve.

anyway, it takes you a while to build up trust with east high again, but you say “hey, why don’t you guys continue to send false leads to this group chat? make another for yourselves, and continue to spread misinformation to me.

ej is like... do you really want to sabotage your own show? but you tell him something along the lines of “our show is still going to have superior choreography, lily is just going to waste her time doing pointless side missions. it has nothing to do with the quality of my work.”

and ej loves this competitive and devious side of you so much. but he’s also deathly terrified of telling you how much he cares about you, because he always manages to screw things up.

and gina finds hilariously endearing because of all people to be self conscious... ej caswell? the ej caswell? she would be his hype woman if she wasn’t so busy finding this all too Good to be true.

eventually, lily will find out, but when she confronts you and threatens to tell the cast that you’re the reason they’re so behind in their production, you tell her that to do that, she’d have to confess to stealing your phone, hacking into it, and using it to spy on you which breaks like 23 different school rules. but sure! tell everyone! you’d love to see how the principal reacts when you film it and show it to them on monday.

(this is getting really long, let me see if i can wrap it up, quick)

clearly, ej is an Idiot when he’s in love, and even though he’s deathly afraid of telling you his feelings, that doesn’t stop him from expressing them.

both of you are in your respective musicals, and your rehearsal schedules align really nicely, so a lot of the time, ej will drive up to north high afterward so he can give you a ride home. (you don’t have a car, okay?) you guys always stop to get fast food or a drink at starbucks or something, and you have little “dates” where ej parks the car and the two of you eat in his car, just chatting about your day.

or on weekends, you and ej go and drive up to the state college that ej was admitted to, and you walk around campus, trying to envision him there. and if you’re also going to a school nearby, you do the same for you. (bonus points if you’re going to the same college, so you walk around and pick out the places where you’ll chill together.)

and if these little excursions of yours are the highlight of your week, and all you want to do is hold ej’s hand forever, singing in the car with the windows down and driving into the sunset... well, you just hope that ej wants the same.

and since ej is in av club, and he’s really trying to dig in and figure out what his story is, he’s always got a camera of some kind out, and some of his best work, he swears, are pictures and videos of you.

anyway, at some point, you confess to ej that you have a crush on him (howie probably pushed you to do it because he was tired of seeing you pine).

it’s a weekend and the two of you are procrastinating on your respective school assignments (study sessions being interrupted with senioritis? sounds about right) so instead you’re just sitting on the floor, staring at the ceiling, talking about whatever. and i think it just slips out, and when you realize what you’ve said, you’re vvv embarrassed, and you don’t even want to look at see how ej reacts, but he calls your name and you turn to him, a deadly mixture of dread and hope rooted in your stomach and shaking you to your core, but ej is smiling and in his eyes is something brighter than the sun, and when he tells you he’s feels the same, it’s like that dread in your stomach blooms into pure joy and when he tells you he’s had a crush on you since you were eighth graders and you were a better dancer than him, you can’t help but laugh until all of that warmth in your stomach has escaped into the air and hangs around the two of you like low hanging stars - so close, you can reach out and touch them.

anyway, cue lots of sneaking around north high - not because it’s a secret but because it’s fun hiding in the back of the auditorium and sneaking into the empty dance room.

cue cheering for each other at the menkies and congratulating each other when east high gets best musical, and north high gets best choreography (amongst others).

cue going to denny’s to celebrate and laughing until your sides hurt, stealing each other’s fries, and holding hands under the table.

(also... ej 100% would kiss your fingers when your hands are intertwined and that’s truly a blessing)

cue going to pool parties together for no other reason than i want all of the east high kids to do an impromptu rendition of “all for one” and ej gets to hit ricky with one of those blow up beach balls “for revenge” on the basketball moment in season 1.

plus, a pool party would do wonders for destressing, don’t lie.

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

taglist: @maybanksslut, @theletterhart, @brokenandheadoverheels, @neelia-thedaughtherof-athena @kitsdeadwife, @amortensie // add yourself to the taglist here!

[lucy90712]

Sapnap- face cam

Wc- 1987

Warnings- none (I think)  I've been up for almost 30 hours mainly because I was doing college homework all of last night and because my boyfriend Sapnap was streaming and being very loud which kept me up in the first place which was why I did my homework anyway. I love Sapnap to death but sometime he can be a little annoying but I put up with it.

Sapnap only got into bed at 4am and he's still asleep now at 11pm meanwhile since then I've finished a big essay, cleaned the apartment, done another essay and then made breakfast for myself which I'm eating now. I wish I could be this productive when I've had sleep but somehow it never works like that.

Eventually Sapnap came downstairs sauntering because he was still sleepy, some of us wish. He walked right over giving me a hug from behind as I washed some dishes and gave me a kiss on my cheek.

"Morning babe you alright?" He asked

"Yeah I'm good a little tired but I'll live" I replied

"Just to let you know I'll be streaming later" he said

He always tells me when he's streaming because his fans don't know about us and he doesn't want to accidentally reveal anything to protect me which is cute but it gets hard when he streams for hours on end and I need help with something. Sapnap is good about to it though if I really need help I either text him or message him on discord and he'll help but he sometimes doesn't read his messages.

I gave him some of what I made for breakfast and he sat down to eat it while I talked at him about college work that he pretends to care about. He's very supportive of all my college work and he'll let me get on with things if I have to but he will also talk about things with me if I want to. Thats one of the best things about Sapnap is his ability to adapt to how I'm feeling at any given moment and I like to think I'm at least ok at doing the same for him.

After breakfast Sapnap cleaned the rest of the dishes and let me take a shower which was nice and relaxing and woke me up a little bit as the cold water at the start hit my back, usually I would not be under the water as it warmed up but today I felt like I needed a shock to my system to get it going for another day. I had more homework and a lecture to do today so there was no chance for a nap until the evening when it's kind of pointless anyway.

After my shower I got dressed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt because it was comfy for sitting down all day in. Sapnap had got my laptop ready for me and had got me a glass for water which was sweet of him. My lecture was in about 2 minutes so I logged onto the class ready for it to start, when it did I put my headphones on so that Sapnap didn't have to listen to my teacher going on about whatever we were doing today, he always says he doesn't care but even I don't want to listen to it sometimes so there is no way he does.

As I tapped away making notes Sapnap put his hand on my knee rubbing his thumb in circles comfortingly. He does this all the time whether its sat on the sofa like right now or while we're driving somewhere but its safe to say that I love it, it lets me know he's there in a weird way it's like he's acknowledging my presence. At one point he got up and went to the kitchen and when he came back he had my favourite snack which he put between us so that we could share. What a lovely boyfriend he's being today, I'm starting to wonder what he thinks he's done that's he's trying to make up for.

My lecture finally finished after what seemed like and age so I went to get straight on with my last essay that needed submitting by the end of the month but Sapnap shut my laptop before I could get the document open, he grabbed my hand and pulled me up from the sofa and towards the door.

"Come on were going out for a walk" he said

"Why, I have an essay to work on" I whined

"You'll never leave the house if I don't drag you out so come on" he said handing me my shoes

I put them on and grabbed a jacket because according to the weather it was meant to be a little bit chilly out today, Sapnap grabbed the house keys and pushed me out the door onto the street. We don't often go out on walks because neither of us like leaving the house that much if we were to go out it would most likely be in the car to just go for a drive.

The two of us walked down the street holding hands and swinging them back and forth as we took steps forwards. Sapnap clearly had a good idea of where he wanted to go because he was making turns all over the place. Eventually we ended up at the target not that far from our place and we went in looking at everything like you do in target and we topped up on some snacks for a movie night soon.

We left with our snacks and Sapnap dragged me to the nearest park so we could sit outside and get a bit more fresh air. The nearest park is actually the one that we went to on one of our first dates so we have good memories there, on one of the benches by the duck pond is where we had our first kiss and many more after that.

I always love going back to that park with Sapnap because each time we reminisce on the past and talk about the future which seems to change each time we come here. We walked to the exact bench that we had our first kiss on and sat down looking at the scenery. It had changed quite a bit since the first time we were here, there used to be a little play park for kids in the distance but now thats gone and is replaced with a small flower garden instead.

The first time we came here and we talked about the future all we wanted was to still be together after we left for college which of course happened, then the next time we wanted to move in together which we did and now. I'm not really sure what the future holds for us but I'm sure it will be interesting.

"Wow its been so long since we came here we have changed so much and achieved everything that we wanted to" he said

"I know its so weird to think that our last goal was to move in together and now we have been living together for 5 months where do you think we will end up in the future?" I asked

"On man I have no idea but I would love to still be living together and maybe in a bigger place and maybe even be engaged" he said

This shocked me I never expected him to say that but I guess that is the next logical step for us to take in our relationship.

"I like the sound of that" I said  

We went back home and Sapnap went to stream while I worked on my essay he didn't tell me how long he was going to stream for but it will probably be about 3 hours. So I sat down and got on with writing the last 15 pages of my essay which would probably take me the entire time he was streaming maybe longer.

My essay took me almost exactly 4 hours to do but when I tried to submit it it wouldn't upload which happens from time to time. I looked at the upload speed of the WiFi since Sapnap taught me how to do it and it was fine but I assumed that it was being used for something else. This problem has happened before when Sapnap is uploading a video so I assumed that was the issue.

It got up and walked to Sapnap’s streaming room waiting outside for a moment to double check that he wasn't still streaming, I waited a couple minutes and heard nothing so I knocked and went in.

As soon as I went in I saw that Sapnap was still streaming and his face cam was on which meant that I was now on his stream in front of however many people. I've never made such a stupid mistake especially one that outs my entire relationship, I just stood in shock not being able to move and get out of the shot. Sapnap had the exact same reaction his face was filled with shock and fear at the same time.

Nothing prepares you for the moment that you expose yourself live in front of probably 100,000 people or more who will record anything that happens. Nothing prepares you for the chaos that will ensue when you do the before mentioned thing and definitely nothing prepares you for the guilt you feel doing so.

"Um hi y/n" He said trying to make things less awkward

"Hey" I replied shyly

He motioned for me to come over because there was no point trying to hide this anymore since no one will believe anything we say now. I stood next to Sapnap luckily being short enough that I still fit in frame but he had obviously given up caring at this point because he pulled me down into his lap to sit while we talked to his chat. Again he did the thing where he rubs his thumb in a circle on my leg and this time it really was for comfort.

"Well chat this is y/n and shes my... girlfriend" he said

"Hi everyone" I said shyly

"Now chat I'm going to need you to be nice to her or I'll be angry because she is very precious to me" he said

His chat were going insane telling others to clip this and people getting way to excited about all of this and some were asking questions. The whole chat was going so incredibly fast that it was hard to read all the messages.

We answered some of the basic questions like how long we have been together and other things, people also asked if George and Dream knew which of course they did and they have made jokes about Sapnap having a girlfriend but no one ever took it too seriously. At one point dream joined the call and started mocking us for being stupid and exposing ourselves and he told some stories that he knew we wouldn't mind him saying which the chat enjoyed.

I started yawning more and more as I stayed on the stream because I wasn't keeping my mind busy my tiredness was taking over. I leant back into Sapnap to rest my head on his shoulder, he out his hand on my head running it through my hair which is very relaxing.

"Are you tired?" He asked

"No I'm fine I can stay awake" I said

"I don't want to hear it I know you've been awake for over 24 hours so you are going to sleep" he almost demanded

He put his arms around my waist and pulled me into a comfortable position where I closed my eyes and fell asleep almost right away forgetting that Sapnap was still streaming but it doesn't matter.