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simpee9000 · 2 months

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Not Just Friends - 4 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Not edited : 3.8k words

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

You've spent the past week working through Katsuki's watch. Only putting it down when handed a time restricted request for a support item fix. Testing the quirk removing feature on Mei and a few others around. Since you couldn't remove your own, at least you wouldn't realize until a week or so.

Once all the kinks were worked out, you placed it in a nice sleek black watch box. Tying it closed with a burnt orange ribbon. You were giving it to him as a gift, just like all the other watches you've given him in the past. This one just a lot more expensive and fully designed by you.

It was already Friday by the time the watch was done, completing two days before you said you would.

Friday's were also the days that Katsuki worked at his own agency a couple blocks away. So after getting a cab to his agency, you walked through the door. Instantly being recognized by the security team for the office and being allowed through with only a quick screening, just in case someone was pretending to be you. You smiled at the receptionist, giving a quick wave before you headed to the elevator.

After pushing in the button for the top floor, the floor that only held him and his closest heroes, you opened your phone to check the time. It was right before his lunch started, which meant he would likely be getting out of the showers. He always took a shower after first patrol and once getting home.

The task of looking at your phone made you think of making yourself a watch, maybe with a support item for yourself incase within. Break-ins for support items were getting a lot more common now days and you couldn't be safe enough. With nanotechnology you could probably make an upgraded suit to the one you've made in high school, that shared many similarities to Iron-man's.

Before you could ramble in your own brain about the idea anymore, you reached Katsuki's floor. Stepping out of the elevator and greeting his manger who was sitting just outside Katsuki's office in his own desk.

"How's your day so far, Tanaka?" you smiled at him.

He looked up at you, "I work with Dynamight," he said plainly and looked back down to his monitor. He reminded you of Shoto that way. Blunt and straight to the point.

You laughed lightly, "Right, he can be a lot." You looked around the office for a moment, "I'm assuming he is still in the showers."

"You'd be correct," his monotone voice would of made you feel stupid if you didn't know him. He's always like this, never changing his tone. He was always one steady mood, it's the main reason Katsuki chose him. Tanaka wouldn't get upset, but rather not take no as an answer. Which Katsuki hated but needed at the same time. It helped his press a lot.

You rocked on your heels for a moment, "Well, I'm going to wait in his office."

"Wait," he paused you, his face slightly paled. He looked stressed.

"What?"

"He told me not to let you in there without him," he answered, face back to normal without the threat of you going in the office.

Your brows furrowed, "Why?"

He shrugged, "Just made it clear to not let you in."

"Okay?" you stood confused on what to do. Kirishima wasn't in the office yet, and neither was Denki or Sero. It was the main reason Katsuki had lunch at this time. "Do you have anything I can help on then?"

He looked at you from over his glasses, "I suppose. Do you think he is more likely to do an interview with Heroes' Gossip or a fan signing at a Hero Expo next week?"

Katsuki hated both those things. Heroes Gossip was exactly that, heroes' gossip, and it got into the nitty gritty details. People who did well on that show were Heroes like Denki and Sero, ones with enough charm to by pass and person questions. Katsuki only went on once, and it was a train wreck, they brought up the details of his childhood with Deku and you. Asking how he felt about the idea of you and Izuku dating. It set him off.

On the other hand, he hated standing or sitting in one area for too long, especially signing things for fans all day long. It was hell on earth for him. He'd have to deal with fan girls trying to grab at him as well as older people criticizing his work.

"I think a Hero Expo might be better, as long as there isn't a hero he hates there and it isn't longer than three hours," you gave your feedback.

"You don't think he's over the last interview?" Tanaka rubbed at his eyes under his glasses.

You hummed, "He likely is, but that doesn't mean that it won't happen again. It'd be another PR nightmare."

"What is?" you looked towards the voice. Giving Katsuki a bright smile.

"Just you," you teased.

"Fuck off," he grumbled, walking past you and to his office door.

"Am I allowed in now?" you stepped alongside him.

Katsuki looked at his manger, giving him rare look of appreciation, and opened his door, "Yeah, Tanaka got food for a us a little bit ago. Should still be warm."

He opened the door for you, letting you walk in first and stepping in behind you, letting the door fall shut.

"What's up with the extra chair?" you pointed towards the chair that sat to the side that matched the one at his desk.

He walked towards the chair, grabbing in at rolling it to sit on the other side of the desk, "Yours, you always fuckin' steal mine."

You flushed at the gift. It was a open invitation into his office. It showed your place next to him. You ran your hand over the top of the chair, spinning it around to see the small details of your favorite color in the stitching. He custom ordered it.

"Thank you," you smiled at him, "You're the best." Finally, you take a seat and rolling it closer to his desk in order to eat. Setting your bag down next to you.

He flushed at the praise. "Tanaka got some of the food you likely from down the street," he pushed a takeout box near you. You instantly opened it, seeing it filled with your favorite order. It was a small sushi bar that you went to often, loving their rolls. Kirishima showed it to you after Fat Gum showed him.

You cracked open a pair of chopsticks that were left on top of the takeout box. Quickly looking to see that he was already digging in, obviously starving from work. "Busy day?" you asked picking up some food and eating a bite.

"Two bank robberies from one group. Pain in my ass," he grumbled, quickly scarfing down more food. After he physically couldn't fit more food in his mouth, he swallowed and drank some water before adding, "Got their asses though."

You nodded along, eating your food at a normal human pace.

"You do anything?" he put picked up another sushi roll in his chopsticks, dipping it in a spicy soy sauce.

The watch in you bag basically burned you with how quickly you remembered about it. Excited to finally give it to him. Before the look could wash over your face, you schooled your features. "Just normal work, Mei blew up some of her new project, so that was something." You were slightly surprised he hasn't brought up his watch to you recently. But you figured it was because his quirk calmed down a little, you haven't seen it act up since Tuesday.

"Isn't she always doing shit like that?" he asked, pointing his chopsticks at you.

"Yeah," you laughed. Looking down at his box you saw he only had two pieces left when he order two full rolls. "God damn vacuum cleaner," you laughed at him.

"Fuck off," Katsuki barked, "I was fucking workin' my ass off today."

"Still, god damn," you often teased him for how fast he eat compare to you. While he was on his last bites, you still had five to go. It wasn't that you were a slow eater, he was just a insane person.

He bit down on the last bites of food. Grumbling and crossing his arms. Proving whatever point he had.

Katsuki went on about his day as you finished up your food, going over how the chase went and what quirks the people had. It was the normal conversation of your lunches. He shared what he could about his job and you did the same.

Once you were done, he grabbed your take-out and threw away your trash. Harshly falling back into his chair, black with orange lining, matching yours.

You looked over his face, idly listening to him go own about his day as you admired him. He had a scar covering the right side of his face. Looking at it too long reminded you of what happened that day. The thought made you want to through up. Quickly, you pinched the fat of your thigh, reminding yourself of the present. You often went into thoughts like these. It was painful but the life of a pro heroes girlfriend.

Rather than dwell on his injury, you looked over the rest of him. His eyes were bright with a fire as he explained how he saved a kid from being buried in cement. You looked over the broad length of his chest, watching it rise with his breathing. Scanning down his arms till you saw his rough fingers drumming across the desk. All the small ways the proved he was alive.

"You good?"

The sudden question knocked you out of thought, you plastered on a smile, "Yeah."

His face scrunched up. before he could call bullshit you moved to reach for your bag.

"I actually brought you something too," you move your hand around your bag before you brought up the watch case. You placed it in the middle of the desk. His face was blank but his eyes were running over the box like crazy. You pushed it towards him when he didn't make a move for it, "Open it."

He glanced up at you, receiving a nod of encouragement, before he grabbed the box. Despite being a rough person, in attitude and everything else, he undid the box as carefully as possible. Sliding the ribbon off and opening the box slowly, as it would shatter.

His hands started shaking at the sight of it. In fear of dropping it, he rushed to place it back on the table. Frantically wiping his hands on his pants.

"Do you like it?" you questioned, worried from his reaction.

"How does it work?" he replied instead, picking it up and putting on his right hand.

Relieved that he liked it enough to immediately wear it, you leaned to point at the watch. "So if you twist this dial to the left one click, then to the right two clicks, and then back to the left for three click, you will have it unlock for identification, " you explained the detailed process. He wanted to make sure that no one else could unlock it and you made sure of it. Even you couldn't activate it once you set passwords in place. "Finally, see how it says 100% that's what your quirk is at right now, so turn it to zero and see how you feel," you sat back in your seat, watching him turn the dial.

He looked like a kid on Christmas as he spun it to 0%, his eyes flicked to you, "So I can try to use my quirk and it won't work?" You nodded.

With the dial at 0% he immediately felt the difference, the constant buzz of his quirk washing away, leaving just the buzz of your presence to warm him. He raised his hand outwards, still weary as he tried to set off his quirk, getting no spark or feeling of it at all. He tested a stronger explosion but received none.

"It fuckin' works," he smiled almost wolfish. You could see the ideas running though his brain at the lack of spark.

He played with the dial a little bit, seeing how the 20% and 40% suppressed his quirk. You glanced at the clock above his desk, seeing your lunch almost up. You'd have to leave soon if you wanted to stay on schedule. "Will this help your quirk training?" you asked, making sure he got what he needed.

"Huh?" he looked down at you from where he was standing and testing his quirk.

"You asked Z' about it for quirk training, that and your quirk's been weird," you filled in the gaps, lost as to how he didn't understand what you were talking about.

He let out a cough followed by a nervous laugh, "Yeah, should work great."

You shot him a look at his odd behavior, picking up your bag and standing to leave.

"What's your plans tonight," he fumbled with his words slightly.

"None?" you hiked the bag better unto your back, grabbing your phone so you could place an uber back to your agency. You didn't have your walking shoes on today. "I was just going to head home and read," you finished answering, "Why?" You quickly finished placing an uber before looking back up at him, confused once again.

His face flushed, " Ramen then? At out favorite spot," he stumbled to add on.

Your face softened. That was your main date spot, only used on highly celebrated dates or anniversaries. "Why there?"

"Just want to have a date with you," he mumbled, face now bright red.

"That happy about the watch? Kats you don't need to take me to dinner, I make you support gear all the time," you stepped closer to him, having been separated by his desk before he stepped around to you as well.

"You wanna go or not?" he huffed, fed up with being embarrassed.

"We don't need to-"

"Do you want to? Cause I want to," he cut you off, he crossed his arms as he leaned into his desk, you standing in front of him.

"Sure," you held back the tease, not wanting to set him off.

"Good, we'll leave home at seven," he pushed off from the desk, walking you out to the door.

You smiled at him, "See you then."

---

The ramen joint was fancy and hidden. Hardly anyone went there if they didn't want extreme privacy. It was something you and Katsuki quickly learned that you needed in your relationship. The public didn't fully know about your relationship, but they did know you two were close and childhood friends. So people speculated off that. So to avoid rumors, Katsuki and you went to hidden gem restaurants.

This ramen joint being a favorite, it was lit purely off candles or warm low lights. It was one of the only, if not the only, romantic restaurants that you two went to. Cozy lights with a dress code of formal.

So the two you walked up to the door, Katsuki offering a hand to help you up the stairs before the restaurant. While your heels and dress didn't make it too difficult, it was nice that it was offered. After grabbing his hand, you expected him to let go at the top of the stairs, but he led you through the restaurant, following the hostess and dragging you along.

Only when at the table he let go. Once the waiter got your drink orders Katsuki fumbled with his hands, "Thanks for the watch."

"Kats, it's nothing," you laughed off, "I've made you many support items, I don't know why you're so happy about this one." His face flushed at the call out. It really confused you, he seemed thrilled that he could turn off his quirk. It was honestly sad. Before you could ask anymore, the waiter gave you your sake and water before taking your food order. The service was great, but annoying for conversation currently.

"Just noticed the detail in this one," he shrugged, "fits me well and shit."

Now he was trying to play it cool? It was all weird.

"Are you sure you're telling me everything?" you accused.

"How was work this week? We spent lunch talkin' 'bout mine," he redirected the conversation.

You shot him another glare at his weird behavior, you'd figure him out eventually. For now you'd have a nice dinner with him.

---

Dinner was just that. Nothing much more. Service was great, so was the food, but conversation was horrible. He dodged any question towards himself, even if it was small. It was all about you and it felt wrong, in a strange way.

The two of you walked the short way back to your apartment. But with looking up at the sky, you regretted that decision. Small water droplets cover the sidewalk slowly. The rain painting it slowly. The streets were empty at only 9pm, you should of taken that as a sign of bad weather. Regardless, the two of you continued walking, him grabbing your hand once out of the restaurant. It was weird, but you let the thought fade at the chance to hold unto him for a little longer.

You swayed in your steps taking up the sidewalk as you stretched your arm to stay linked with Katsuki. He gave you a smile at your behavior. Making you flush and focus more heavily on your step. It reminded you of the romance movies the described this exact situation. A couple walking in the rain, late at night, streets empty as they confessed their love.

Katsuki tugged you towards him, spinning you into his hold, his hand letting go of your and grabbing onto your hips and you leaned into him. Your hands resting on his chest from surprise at the sudden change.

"You got that look on your face again," he smirked down at you. While used to his smile over the years, his smirk still made you weak in the knees.

"Huh?"

"You have a face you make when your thinking on your shitty romance movies," he pointed out.

"I do not," you pouted.

"Yeah it's like this," he scrunched him face to mimic yours horribly.

"Is not," you slapped his chest lightly, "I'd be surprised if you dated me while I made that face."

"Uh huh?" he teased, "cause it was spot on."

You rolled your eyes, face red from being in his hold.

"So what were you thinkin'?" he pushed, squeezing your hips slightly.

"Just all those movies with couples," you dodged until he squeezed again. "Fine, couples kissing in the rain, happy?"

His face flushed, matching the red hue on yours, before he looked up to avoided your stare. You were surprised he was holding you in general, but the fact he hasn't let go truly stunned you. Hugs between you two didn't last longer than a couple seconds. And this was a lot more romantic than a hug.

"Do you wanna?" he looked back down, his eyes tracing over your face between landing on your lips.

"Wh..what?" you stuttered. He looked back up to your eyes.

"Do you want to kiss?" he spelt out for you, face becoming impossibly redder.

"Yeah," you breathed out, looking down to his lips before both your eyes shot to look at each other. Making sure this was okay.

The tension was shooting through your bones. He hasn't offered to kiss since graduation, which was over a year ago.

He pulled his hand away from your waist and up to your face, wiping away the rain that fell on your cheek before he slowly leaned in. You eyes fluttered shut before you felt his lips hit yours. Instantly melting into the new feeling.

Every time before he was either freshly from the hospital or the two of you were excited and let it run you into a kiss that only lasted a moment before you were off running to friends and family during graduation.

Your knees caved slightly, letting you fall even deeper into the kiss, deeper into him, as you tilted your head. The kiss was just like him, explosive. It left you buzzing as he pulled away for a breath.

He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes before breathing out heavily, "I'm sorry we don't do that often enough."

Your once closed eyes shot up, you slightly pushed away from him, "What?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, "I just wish I haven't been holding that out of our relationship."

You pushed yourself out of his hold, stepping back, "Katsuki Bakugo."

"What?" he almost demanded.

"I told you that I was fine without physical touch. I've been fine without it. Yet the second you've found out, you've been weird," you pushed a finger into his chest, "Now your kissing me, saying sorry? How do you think that makes me feel?"

He shook his head, "I don't see the problem."

"Of course you don't," you basically lectured, "Our relationship has been steady. Sure it hasn't been typical, but it's been us. Yet the second someone mentions that I like touch, you've been all weird."

"I want to make you happy? Is that fuckin' horrible?" Katsuki huffed.

You scoff, "No, but you were already making me happy. Now you are doubting our relationship, not telling me about your quirk issues, and worst of all, pushing yourself when I didn't ask. If you aren't ready for things that's fine! If your never ready, that's also fine. I just want you Katsuki. I want the you that doesn't give two fucks about what anyone thinks."

His head hung, his hands coming up to rub at his face. "I don't know how to fuckin' do this shit," he mumbled.

You stepped closer to him, "Just stop worrying about every little thing. I'm with you, you don't have to win me again. Just do what you want and I'll tell you if I have an issue."

"And what if what I want is to kiss you more and other stupid shit," he muttered under his breath.

Your face flamed with the comment, "Well," you cleared you throat, "if that's what you want, then I'd be happy to. But only if it's what you actually want."

"Of fuckin' course it is, why wouldn't I want to kiss my damn girlfriend," his wolfish grin was back quicker than ever as you pulled you into him. Quickly getting over the little spat the two of you just had.

"I don't know, you haven't wanted to before," you shrugged in his hold.

"Oh I've wanted to," he protested.

"Then why haven't you?" you tilted your head.

"Reasons," he took your held tilt as an opening, slotting his lips against yours. You slapped at his shoulder for dodging the question but you quickly moved to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. He hugs you closer as he swayed the two of you in your kiss. Letting the rain soak the two of you to the bone without a second thought. Only worried about the one in front of you. Any worry dripping out of your soul just as the water dripped out of your clothes. Because even though he hated the rain, he loved you more.

-Next Part-

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toxic-libra · 3 months

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moth to a flame pt.2 - csb (m)

pairing: soobin x fem!reader word count: 6.6k genre: friends with benefits-ish (he helps her with dating tips and stuff), angst if u squint really hard, smut, fluffy, inspired a bit by moth to a flame - the weeknd warnings: 3rd person pov (as always), mentions of reader in love with another guy (haechan <3), slight fwb dynamic, mature content (big dick!bin ofc, oral sex, brief fingering, mirror sex hihihi, protected sex bc yeah important) tagging: @once27, @pageriviera, @gyuzlover, @kookley77-blog, @sendhelpiloveyeonjun, @bunnyspeach, @pagesoobinie, @acidsoju, @cheekycountesschoi, @pinkbabi

[a/n]: part one here, for those who want to read.

Feeling his stomach swirl as he entered Y/N’s apartment wasn’t common, but so wasn’t having a heart-to-heart with Beomgyu minutes before going to a party… And both happened.

Soobin cursed his gullible mind and male weakness. All those weird thoughts and flutterings had nothing to do with real emotions, they were just his head clouded after crossing the line between friends and something else, plus a good blowjob – Beomgyu’s words, minus the ‘good blowjob’, for Soobin preferred to be ran over and buried alive than telling his best friend about his sex life.

Yeonjun was laying on the couch, reading something on his phone. “Y/N’s in her room.”

“Alright.”

The muffled music made him hesitate in knocking. She was listening to some old EDM tracks, something she did whenever getting ready to go out. After the third knock, the noise stopped and he heard the low ‘Come in’.

Opening the door, he put his head inside. “How long until you’re ready?”

Turning around, she smiled. “Oh, hi Bin! And, uh… Five minutes at max.” She pointed to her jewellery box. “Just deciding on accessories. Why?”

“We’re all waiting for you.”

“Mimi too?”

“Yeah.”

“Good Heaven’s, I’m late then.” She chuckled. “Just give me a second.”

He stared at her dressing table, noticing an open bottle of soju. “Drinking already?”

“I’m quite nervous, so...”

“Just try to relax, everything’s gonna be fine.”

If by ‘going to be fine’ Soobin meant ‘dancing instead of trying to flirt with Donghyuck’, then yes, everything was fine. Because from the moment she arrived, until then, Y/N had barely talked to Hyuck, resorting to her own cowardness and seeking refuge at the safety of the dance floor.

It was too soon.

She wasn’t ready for it yet.

She’d probably never be ready for it.

Walking towards the bar, she asked for a shot of vodka. It was her third, and maybe by the fifth she’d be a bit more confident. However, while waiting, a pair of pretty hands rested on the counter by her side, the slender fingers and pale skin catching her attention.

“Choi Soobin.” She forced a grin.

“What are you doing back there? I thought we were supposed to put our plan into action!”

“I kinda… Chickened-out last minute.”

“I already told Hyuck a thousand times how pretty you look today, and how plump your ass looks in this dress, but if you’re not around, there’s no way he can see it!” Soobin rolled his eyes.

Y/N’s breath caught, cheeks warming. “You said that?”

“Of course I did! Wasn’t this the main…”

“You think I look pretty today?” She cut him off, wanting to sound cheeky, teasing even, but it came out shaky, laced by that unwanted shyness and self-doubt.

He frowned. “Of course I do.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Isn’t it for the plot, then?”

Soobin moved before his mind calculated the pros and cons of doing such. Hand on her chin, he tipped her face up, thumb trailing her lower lip. “Not everything I do is aiming at our plan, Y/N. You look pretty every day. You are pretty.” He stated as if telling her the sky was blue.

They stared at each other, atmosphere changing and charging with confused, risky thoughts. The way his palm smoothly flattened on her cheek, his finger still on her lip, eyes tender but darkened, and the absolute warmth that came with Choi Soobin himself… Y/N wanted to dive in so bad.

He was her safety-pin.

But before she could act on any emotion, someone tapped her arm, breaking their connection.

“Your shot, miss.” The bartender didn’t look guilty for interrupting.

“Oh, thank you.” Y/N cleared her throat, putting some distance between her and Soobin. Taking a deep breathe, she downed it and turned to him again, holding his hand and intertwining their fingers. “Ok, I’m good now. Let’s go. I’ll try to talk to him a bit.”

Soobin hummed, swallowing an annoyed sigh at the impulse to tug her closer.

First, they stopped by the dance floor so Y/N could tell her friends she’d rest for a while. Walking there wasn’t easy, for the crowd kept blocking their path. Twice, Soobin got elbowed for trying to protect Y/N against the dancers, who moved carelessly to the rhythm – each time, the feeling of her body pressed against his was enough to make the pain of being hit worth it.

Their table was pretty close to the side they got out, but Y/N felt the pang of insecurity again and dragged Soobin to the bathroom area, saying she needed a minute.

Knowing better than pressuring her, he stood at the hall, calmly waiting.

Once alone, she took a deep breath and went for the sink, where the mirror was.

“Get a grip of yourself.” Y/N murmured to her reflection. “Focus on your goal. You got this. Go there, bat your lashes, crack some jokes, smile prettily and go home.”

With Soobin.

She scowled, telling her mind to shut the fuck up.

However, it made sense. If she left with Soobin, they could sleep together and she’d be ready to finally pursue Donghyuck. It was exactly the reason she sought his help, wasn’t it?!

All her resolve crumbled when the first thing she saw after opening the door was a girl all over Soobin. As if on cue, his eyes found hers and he frowned in annoyance, silently pleading to be rescued. Y/N’s mouth twitched in some unexpected anger and possessiveness, jealousy slowly boiling up her blood. The nerve of some girls!

“I’m back, baby.” She smiled wickedly. “Did I take too long?”

“Not at all, love. Let’s go?” Barely looking at the girl, Soobin offered a bowl. And not missing a beat, he took Y/N’s hand.

“She looked like she was bothering you.” Although she didn’t need to explain, she did it anyway.

“She was.” He nodded, fingers intertwining hers. “Are you ready?”

“You want the honest answer or the expected one?”

“Hyuck’s a good lad, you two already talk, so no need to fret.”

“We talk, yeah, but we don’t flirt… I don’t know how to flirt!”

“He’s gonna do all the work, trust me. You stay there just being pretty, looking at him with your starry eyes and perfect mouth and he’ll be sold.”

Soobin thought she was pretty!

Though her eyes starry and mouth perfect!

God, why was her heart racing?! Why did she feel so proud of herself?!

Taking a deep breath, Y/N tried to push those sensations away. “Ok. Let’s do this.”

“You make it sound like a penitence.”

“Being insecure sucks.”

“Just try to relax, I’ll be by your side.” He squeezed her hand tenderly.

“Give me a second, then. Just a second.” She stalled, still quite far from their table.

“You’re overthinking again.” Soobin murmured. “You don’t have to jump his bones, love, but just... Try to interact a bit more, touch his arm while you talk, brightly smile at him and stuff.”

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that? You do it with me, with Yeonjun…”

“It’s different.”

“Because Yeonjun is your kindred spirit and I’m a mere best friend?” He jested, though his face was slightly serious. She rolled her eyes, recognising the banter.

“No!” Y/N groaned. “I mean, in Yeonjunnie’s case, yes. But in yours… It’s different too. A good different.” She quickly added.

“Such as…?”

The same words she uttered to Yeonjun not a day ago floated on her mind. Saying them to Soobin was a risky move – he shouldn’t be her focus here. However, Y/N hated when he acted like Yeonjun was more important to her.

“With you, things are easy. I don’t feel anxious, nor insecure. On the contrary.” She stared at the floor, quite embarrassed of herself. “I feel… Seen. Cared for. Special. It makes sense.”

Soobin blinked, surprised by her words. He never expected that whatever they were doing would affect her this way – she seemed so sure it would help her with Donghyuck and not change anything between them. He knew he’d prefer an easy, calm love over any turbulent feeling, but…

Oh, fuck.

He shut the thought before it fully took form.

“Well, love…” He cleared his throat. “It’s easy because you don’t have a crush on me.” It wasn’t a 100% true, for there were people that fell in love quietly (his parents, for example), but it didn’t apply to their reality. “So, naturally, since you do like Hyuck, you feel more pressured.”

Their eyes met, and her gaze didn’t hold the same assurance it did when she first asked him for help. No, it held a foreign emotion he had yet to see on her – it looked like a mix of confusion and agony… Like she was trying to decipher what she was really feeling.

Like she was second-guessing her crush on Donghyuck.

“How can I help you get more confident to face him now?”

Y/N knew it wasn’t ideal, but he’d proved her once that it didn’t mind how inexperienced she was. She just needed… Reassurance.

“Would you give me a kiss?”

He hesitated. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s cringe, but whenever we kiss, I get that adrenaline rush as if I’m actually a femme fatale or something like that… I don’t know. It stuck in my head ever since you refused my blowjob…”

Thankfully, before she could utter more nonsense, Soobin covered her mouth with his.

The mention of the night he fingered her, but the recent memories of the perfect blowjob, and whatever weird emotions brewed between them were enough to get him into action.

His tongue found hers immediately, a satisfied sigh leaving her lips as her fingers caressed from his long arms to his shoulders and neck, wrapping around his nape. He crowded over her, too tall that even being on her tiptoes wasn’t enough to ease the distance, so he needed to bend a bit more. He circled her waist, pressing her body against his and relishing at her warmth.

They kissed until her mushy brain gave in, deciding she wasn’t ready for Hyuck yet. But she was ready for Soobin. She had been since that night in his kitchen.

“Take me home.” Y/N murmured against his swollen mouth.

Putting some distance, he frowned, unsure if he heard right. “What?”

“Take me home.”

“Are you sure? What about…”

“Home, Bin. Now.” She cut him off, her clipped tone indicating only one thing.

He couldn’t refuse her. Not when the confusion on her pretty eyes had dissolved into lust.

They preferred to leave quietly, mostly because both were trying to ignore what that ‘impulsive’ move actually meant. The silence wasn’t heavy, but it did bother them a bit.

Instead of going to her apartment, Y/N went to his.

Through the darkness, they walked to his room and Soobin thanked God the city lights peeking through the window were enough for them at the moment. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise (not exactly a surprise, but anyway).

She turned to him, vexed, confused and desperate.

“Choi Soobin, I really, really want to sleep with you tonight.”

Although he felt the blow of her confession on his whole body, the only thing he did was suck a breath, letting each word perforate his heart like sharp claws.

“Are you sure, love?”

“Yes.”

And if he was keen to melodramatics, he would’ve fallen to his knees at her consent.

He closed the distance, mouth on hers before she got to say anything else. Before she could even think of regretting what she said. It was manipulative and wrong, but Soobin wanted her too much to give her enough space to think thoroughly about their situation.

Her head fell back mid-kiss, body limp and pliant to his ministrations. Lips closing on the skin of her neck, he prayed the marks would last for weeks. And at the thought of seeing them, he was reminded of the new decoration of his room… The whole reason why he kept themselves in the dark until now, standing at the door like two fools.

Soobin’s hands trembled a bit as he took her dress off. Her skin was ablaze, although goosebumps rose everywhere his fingers touched. He kissed her shoulder, cupping her boobs and pinching a nipple – the moan she let out was pornography, reaching his dick and making it twitch. “Lay down and close your eyes, love.” He ordered, reaching for the lights. When she thumped on the soft mattress, he took a deep breath, expectant. “Now open.”

Y/N was met with her reflection on the ceiling. “A mirror?”

“Got it installed yesterday.”

“Why?”

“Because I liked it?”

“That’s… Very kinky of you, Choi Soobin.”

The dimples showed up, warming her heart at the sight of his boyish smile. “You’re the first one to see it. I didn’t think much when I bought it, but you’re here and it makes sense now… You were right. Everything makes sense with you.” His knee dipped the bed. “Wanna try it?”

Thank God she was laying down, or else her wobbly legs would give in.

Everything makes sense with you.

“Of course I do.”

He gave her another one of his cute smiles, those that didn’t mirror any of his naughty intentions, and took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor. “Then keep looking up and see the magic happen.”

She giggled, for his words were a bit cheesy, but her smile died as soon as his mouth touched her collarbones. He left some tender bites while his hands kneading her boobs, then, as her fingers threaded between his dark locks, his lips circled a nipple, sucking and licking the hard bud. Y/N moaned, eyes begging to close, but too entranced by their reflection to do so. She could see his tall frame over her, the way her legs rested at each side of his hips, her own face filled with pleasure.

Soobin kept trailing her body with kisses, until he reached her navel. His teeth scraped near her panties’ waistband, his large hands fondling her chest before coming down to her thighs, grabbing them and keeping them open. Y/N held her breath, attention fixed on the mirror – his head was so close to where she wanted it, she could even feel the warmth of his breath. Then, he sucked her over the fabric, and her back arched, heart fluttering at the sensation… But it still wasn’t enough.

“Fuck, Bin.”

“Is everything ok, love?” His voice was tinted with mirth.

“It’ll be when you take my panties off.” She confessed, too hypnotised by him and blinded by her neediness to be bothered of expressing it.

“So impatient.” But his fingers rolled them down, tossing them somewhere on the floor. Before Soobin could dive in, he glanced above, seeing her now naked body splayed on his bed. “Isn’t it such a nice view?” He mused. “I wish I had eyes behind my head to witness everything.”

And then his mouth was on her, not wasting even a second.

His tongue rippled against her clit, soft, curious. His fingers dug into her thighs, pushing her legs as open as he could. Pleasure sparkled on her veins, the feeling of his lips on her pussy so good, so annoyingly good. She moaned, eyes glued to the mirror above, entranced by the erotic sight and caress. She could see his head moving, could feel his smart tongue bumping her needy bud, drawing figures and learning what she liked, what she tasted. Her hips found enough strength to move together with his ministrations, making one of his hands detach from her plump thighs and force her belly down, trying to keep her still.

Y/N’s eyes couldn’t stay open, no matter how wicked and delightful it was to see everything reflected. Her mind went blank at the buzzing of his mouth on her cunt, lapping and coaxing her orgasm. It was all too much – the weird night they had, being with him, the desperation she felt for him, the need to let him rearrange her insides if he wanted to.

A small cry escaped her lips, mixed with his name, body moving as the high crashed on her like waves at the coast. Soobin groaned in pure satisfaction when her thighs closed around his face, suffocating him a bit, but her release was too sweet of a death for him to mind. He kept licking her, drinking every drop, pussy drunk on her ectasis… Until she forced his head up, pulling at his hair with a painful but delicious tug.

“Fuck, sorry, I–”

“I’m good, love.” He purred in reassurance, knowing he couldn’t give her insecurity any space. “You good too?” He grinned sheepishly.

“Shut up.” She couldn’t help but chuckle, despite her racing heart.

“Is this the kind of treatment I get after making you cum?!” He tsked. “Maybe we should stop, then, if you’re going to be rude…”

“No!” Her eyes widened. “No, I’m sorry.”

His adorable dimples deepened. “Well, if you want to keep going…”

“Please! Please, I’ll be good!” Y/N shook her head like a little girl.

“You really want me to fuck you, huh?”

“Desperately.”

“Or else you’ll go berserk?”

“Exactly.”

“We can’t let that happen.” He moved a bit, lips touching her belly, then the valley between her breasts. “Think you can take my fingers now, love?”

“I can take anything you want me to.”

“Just two fingers, then, or if you’re feeling generous, three.”

Y/N softly hummed. “Anything you want, Bin.”

“Here, suck it for me.” He patted her mouth with his index and middle finger. “Get it wet.”

She obeyed, holding his wrist while her tongue coated his skin with glossy, warm spit.

His eyes never left hers, drowsy and hungry. And when he sunk his digits inside her, without as much as a warning, Soobin couldn’t help but get hypnotised by the way her breath hitched, head falling back on the mattress and legs trying to close around him again. She looked so pretty like that, all pliant to his ministrations, vulnerable and desperate for him.

He was rather uncomfortable in his trousers, but stretching her was his priority – it had to be good for her, she couldn’t get hurt or feel any pain that didn’t hint at pleasurable. He knew he’d feel amazing regardless, so there was no need to rush.

Their figures reflected on the mirror made Y/N’s skin tingle with need. She blinked, dazed by the overstimulation, her belly coiling at each steady move of his hand. Her mouth hung open, lewd moans and whines of his nickname leaving her ever so often.

“Feeling generous?” Soobin kissed her ear, then her neck.

“Magnanimous.” Her voice came out hoarse.

He grinned against her collarbones, inserting a third finger and feeling the immediate clench of her wet cunt. It took his breath away, too. “So fucking snug.” His dick twitched, impatient. “You want to cum again, love? Want on my hands now?”

And as much as she appreciated a second orgasm, she wanted to cum together. Finding his gaze, she shook her head. “Want it with you.”

“With me?” He echoed, biting another smile. “How magnanimous, indeed.”

“Please, I’m ready. I know I can take you!”

There was her clipped tone again, and Soobin knew he had her where he wanted. Brows furrowed in frustration, Y/N stared at him like a princess on the verge of a tantrum out of sheer pettiness. He slowed down until stalling completely, not holding back his smirk.

“You’re cute when you’re mad.”

Y/N supposed that being called ‘cute’ after begging for a guy’s dick wasn’t exactly the most flattering eulogy, however, her heart warmed at the compliment. She didn’t get to comment, though, for he left the bed, unbuttoning his jeans and dropping them on the floor, briefs coming along. Going for his nightstand, he took a condom off – although he knew Y/N offered him no danger (and vice-versa), it’d be better if they kept it wrapped for the time being.

She tried not to ogle him while he put the condom on, tried not to feel wetter at the expectation of having him inside her… And failed miserably.

When Soobin hovered her again, cradling her jaw and tilting her face up, stealing a slow kiss, any inch of doubt for the decisions she took that night left her like lightening.

It had to be Soobin.

It made sense, indeed.

And she wanted that more than she wanted a lot of things before.

He rolled around, bringing her body with his, putting her on top and ending the kiss with a bite on her neck. “You want to ride me? That way you can control how much you’re gonna take and I won’t hurt you.” He suggested, a hand pushing her hair off her shoulder so he could kiss there better. “And I get to enjoy the view a bit.” His chuckle was wicked.

“Hmm… We can try…” Her heart soared on her chest as he laid down against the headboard.

Well, they were doing that.

She was finally having sex again after ages.

Y/N spat on him over the condom and smeared it as she pumped his shaft. Frowning slightly, she wondered how he’d fit – yes, he was the famous cliché ‘big and thick’, not at all like the other two guys she had slept with. With wobbly legs and a pinch of insecurity, she circled his hips and aligned him on her hole. Soobin tried to keep his attention on the mirror, but as she sat on his dick, his focus diverted – he couldn’t help the deep groan that left his throat at her snugness and warmth. He was only past the tip when she stopped.

“Too big.” She gulped. “It hurts.” Her eyes weren’t teary, but they stung.

“Slow down, love. Don’t rush.” He gritted his teeth, remaining quiet despite the urge to thrust fully in. “Look up, it’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.” Maybe the visual stimulation would get her wetter and make it easier for him to slide in without the pain. She obeyed, her head falling a bit as she faced above. Before she could move again, one hand rested on her waist and the other on her boob, pinching a nipple. “How’s that?”

“Good.” Her voice came out breathy.

“Maybe if I…” His mouth landed on the beak, sucking it.

Y/N immediately moaned, sinking a bit further on him. “So good.”

He changed sides, and her fingers threaded on his hair, tugging at the locks. She was mesmerised by the sight, as he predicted. There was something rather intimate in seeing themselves on the mirror – his face buried on her bosom, her sitting on him, her pleasured expression…

“It’s taking everything in me…” Soobin swallowed a groan, hands now on her ass, groping the flesh with too much strength. “Not to thrust in fully.”

She let out an airy chuckle. It was painful for her, but he probably was having it way worse. So, gathering the remains of courage she still had, she forced her hips down, trying to get most of his length in. “Maybe if you weren’t so big…” Her voice came out strained, bottoming down. “God, this hurts. It’s like I’m a virgin all over again.”

Soobin moaned, dick twitching at the primitive idea of being her first. It was quite an outdated thought, but he was quite possessive and romantic himself, so he couldn’t control his own mind.

“Hi.” He murmured against her jaw, leaving small bites there, hoping they would distract them both – for completely different reasons.

“Hi.” Y/N smiled.

“You’re unbearably so tight, love.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t say that. It’s not a bad thing!”

“Just hang in there for a second, please? Just until the burn goes away.” She stole a peck, thumb caressing his cheek. “I promise it won’t take long.”

This time, instead of a peck, she kissed him. Their tongues met in a sensual dance, her torso pressed against his while his hands didn’t know whether to stay on her plump ass or go back to her waist. His digits left fire where they touched, and Y/N melted on the kiss. Instinctively, she rocked her hips just a bit… Soobin’s grip tightened on her.

“Love, don’t. If you’re not ready, don’t.” He warned.

“I think I am. Eventually, it’ll get better, right? So...”

They looked up briefly, grinning at the sight. Her moves were sloppy, slow, only testing how to work that out, how to ease the pain so it would become pleasurable. Then, Soobin kissed her neck again, leaving purple marks without caring about the aftermath. She found more stability, hips going up and down as he helped her, pushing her ass in sync.

“You’re driving me insane.” Soobin groaned, searching her mouth.

That made Y/N smirk. It was so weird how he made her feel this good. At his every reaction, she felt her confidence awakening, felt some sort of inner power brewing together with pleasure. The kiss was messy, teeth and tongues clashing unnaturally, while she tried to conceal her pace and the caress. She tugged at his hair, nails burning his scalp and making him see stars.

“Help me go fast.” Y/N begged. “H-How?”

“I’ll take charge now, ok? Feeling good?”

“Ok, yes. Please. Fast.” She panted against his lips.

Soobin let his weight on top of her, hands at each side of her face, the good ol’ missionary. The new position offered a perfect angle to hit her sweet spot, not to mention how intimate it was. Sure looking at their reflection was hot, however, witnessing her expression of pure bliss was hotter. And knowing it was him who made her feel that way was… Surreal. Picking up his pace, he tried to go as fast as he could, tried to make every wish of hers command.

She held onto his forearms, back arching with each thrust. It had been so long since she felt this good, and later on she’d regret wasting so much time with her ‘celibacy’ – but right now… Right now, she didn’t want to think of anything other than Choi Soobin.

She couldn’t.

Everywhere she looked, every breath she took, every one of her cells were filled with him. Pleasure boiled together with her blood, buzzing through her body, raw, conquering. Their gazes locked, her name leaving his mouth in that husky timber he had, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead, lips swollen from the millions kisses they shared…

It was too much.

“Bin,” She panted. “I’m coming.”

God, he almost collapsed at her words. Sneaking a hand between them, he found her clit, circling it and rubbing it just right. Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, legs trembling as her pussy clenched repeatedly when she reached her climax, moaning his name like a prayer.

Hypnotised, Soobin followed like a moth to a flame. If Y/N was the deathly light, he’d perish proudly, peacefully. Lost in her, he spilled inside the condom, thick, strong, intense. Her name on his lips like the only language he knew, her face the only memory he would dare to remember.

And in the afterglow, he secretly wished it could last forever.

Y/N didn’t know much about ‘morning after’s to act like a normal adult woman would. As soon as she woke up, with Soobin’s tall frame pressed against her back, she started scheming how she could flee to her apartment without raising too much suspicion. If Beomgyu was already awake and at home, she was doomed – however, if he was asleep, she still had a chance.

Untangling herself from Soobin’s embrace, Y/N cringed a bit at her sore muscles. He stirred in his slumber, a delicious groan escaping his throat as he turned to the wall’s side.

Oh, dear Lord.

Not even aiming to the bathroom first, she opened the door and poked her head out, looking to both sides and listening to the quietness of the flat. Walking on tip toes, she reached the hall, noticing neither Beomgyu’s nor Mimi’s shoes and coats were there.

Excellent.

She couldn’t go back home because they were there.

Locking herself on the bathroom wasn’t her smartest idea, but she needed to pee and wash up. When she looked at the mirror, her reflection told her everything she didn’t want to know. The glow on her face, Soobin’s marks on her neck, her dishevelled hair… What a fantastic, dangerous night she had. How was she supposed to get back on track?

Was it even possible?

Turning on the shower, she ordered herself to breath. People had one-night-stands, there was no need for her to fret. Actually, when she asked for Soobin’s help, she had that in mind… So why was she so… Antsy? Confused? Dazed?

And then, after the kitchen episode, they agreed to talk about whatever made them awkward. How could she talk about last night?! When ‘awkward’ was absolutely the last thing it was, but…

She needed some time alone.

She needed to think.

Turning off the shower without even getting inside, she decided dealing with Beomgyu was easier than dealing with whatever was going on with her right now. Gathering her dress and panties from the floor, Y/N made to the door, wrapping herself on her coat and putting on her shoes.

It wasn’t the dreadful ‘walk of shame’, however, it wasn’t a prideful one either.

She knew Soobin would be disappointed at her for running away first thing in the morning. Well, he’d have to let her off the hook for this one.

Typing the password, Y/N made way to her bathroom, safely locking herself up. Drawing a bath would be better than showering, and so she did, promising to deal with happened later on.

The cold, short replies on their chat made Soobin’s belly churn unpleasantly. Well, he only had himself to blame. Was it too soon to push her to another man’s arm? Maybe. But if he didn’t do it now, he’d want her all to himself… And she didn’t want him the same, as his empty room so kindly illustrated when he woke up alone near lunch that Sunday (not even a goodbye message left!).

In trying to play cupid, he scheduled another PC Bang meeting. And as they walked there, side to side, avoiding to touch each other, Soobin realised he lost her. The nonchalant girl by his side wasn’t his best friend anymore, and he didn’t know what to do with all the emotions that brewed inside him – from last night, from this night, from the tragic but obvious future…

The PC Bang was too crowded for their liking, so they ditched it for fried chicken and beer. Instead of taking her usual place between Yeonjun and Soobin, this time, Y/N waited for Soobin to sit and sat in front of him. Although the distance was inexpressive, she felt a bit… Safer.

It was already difficult to focus on Donghyuck when Soobin was nearby. And now that she had slept with him, it was ten times worse. Before she could get a grip of herself, her restless mind was flooded by flashes of last night; and when their eyes met, she felt her stomach tighten.

Was he thinking about it too?

Was he aware of her uneasiness towards him?

Was he trying his best not to touch her at any given chance?

Because she felt like fighting a lost battle.

“Yeonjunnie texted.” She looked up from her phone. “They’re almost here. I’ll wait outside!”

“It’s quite cold, stay inside.” Soobin reached for her hand, stalling her.

“He’s a bit sour that we left yesterday without warning, so I want to appease him.” She explained, hoping the goosebumps were from the chilly air. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“You spoil him too much.”

“I spoil everyone I care for, Bin.” She held his gaze for a heartbeat later, then forced a giggle and left – hoping they haven’t noticed how desperate she was to be alone.

Going there was a mistake.

Soobin’s attention remained on Y/N until she disappeared through the entrance door. With a resigned sigh, he took a sip of his beer and relaxed against the booth.

“You two could stop eye-fucking each other in public.” Hyuck chuckled next to him.

“What?”

“Y/N and you. I get it’s the beginning and everything’s quite out of control, but I’m feeling weirdly shy here. Like I’m intruding.”

“What about Y/N and I?” Soobin frowned, somehow knowing where that was going.

“Dating, duh. Everyone knows it already, you two aren’t exactly subtle.”

God, that was so wrong. That was so, so wrong and it would come to bite him in the ass later, but Soobin couldn’t help it anymore. “Everyone noticed, then.”

“I don’t know how you planned to keep it a secret when you two are going on dates non-stop, and I saw you making-out next to the bathrooms yesterday.”

“Oh, fuck. Sorry you got to see that.” His chuckle was forced, since he fought against despair for ruining Y/N’s plan and the unwanted triumph for people thinking she was his.

“Nah, it’s ok. I thought something was fishy when you started bringing her to our meetings often, and you just couldn’t stop talking about her… I just had to put two and two together.” Hyuck shrugged. “She’s a nice girl, bro. I’m glad you found someone good for you.”

“Thanks.”

He was so, so fucked.

Three days later

Y/N had given it enough thought. For the past three days, she witnessed Beomgyu arriving at her flat with brownies, cookies and another Nutella bread… Apparently Soobin was thinking, too. About what? She wasn’t so sure. As for her, she went through all the pros and cons of ending their agreement, of still pretending to want Donghyuck. She knew maybe that was all she would get from Soobin – maybe her mind did play tricks and he actually didn’t like her back. She knew she probably would end up with a broken heart, however, she couldn’t keep that going.

It made no sense anymore.

Not when her feelings for Soobin bloomed like ivy, getting her covered in them.

That’s why, like the day she suggested their agreement, mid-Anime episode, she muttered:

“I think we should stop.”

Soobin didn’t react at first. He was so enthralled by the story, fingers mindlessly playing against her thigh, drawing figures and reminding her why that conversation was necessary. “Mhmm. The episode is almost finished, we can do something else later.”

“No, Bin. We should stop.” She put some distance between them. “Us.”

“What?” He looked at her, confused. “Why?”

“I… I think we should stop seeing each other for a bit.”

Dread pulsed through Soobin, turning his body rigid. Her face dropped, and he read all the wrong emotions there. Shaking his head, he forced himself to stand up, rage and guilt finding their way to his mouth. Before he could articulate any proper thought, his impulsiveness got the best of him.

“You promised nothing would change between us!” He quipped. “You promised we’d still be friends after everything, Y/N. You swore!”

She felt her eyes burning, but as always, she didn’t cry. “I know what I said, but…”

How could Soobin come clean, anyway? She wanted to stop seeing him, probably because after letting him fuck her in the best way possible, she really noticed how strong her feelings for Hyuck were… Although Hyuck thought she was his girlfriend.

They were doomed from the beginning.

“Now I’ve lost you twice.” He turned around, ready to flee from that overwhelming bubble of unsaid feelings. “I knew things wouldn’t end up good, but I still did it… And now I’ve lost you again.” Not even a step was taken when he felt her fingers on his arm.

“Bin, wait.”

“I don’t have the energy to deal with this now.”

“But if we don’t talk, then how…”

“He thinks we’re dating, Y/N.”

“P-pardon?” She froze.

“Donghyuck thinks we’re dating, that’s why keeping this is pointless. He won’t be interested in his friend’s girl.” Soobin looked at her over his shoulder. “But we’re not dating, are we?” He knew exactly what was going through her mind, knew those turbulent eyes better than anyone else. “And I didn’t correct him.” The words came out heavy, poisoned. “Aren’t you asking me why?”

She gulped. “Why?”

“‘Cause yeah, he might be a good match for you, you might have something in common and he’s a nice dude… But will he help you out of your shell like I do? Will he be alright with Yeonjun’s place in your life like I am? Will he…” ‘Love you like I do?’. It was on the tip of his tongue, however, Soobin remained silent. It was too soon for that. “I’m sorry things ended up this way.”

The hand around his pulse tightened. “Aren’t you going to fight for me, then?”

“What?”

“So you tell me all this, but don’t say the only thing that matters?! And you expect me to do what?! How can I feel safe enough to confess my feelings for you when you’re about to leave with a lame ass ‘sorry, I can’t deal with this’, as if it wasn’t obvious I feel the same?!” She sounded angry, and Soobin turned around, finding her scowling at him. “God, Bin, it stopped being about Donghyuck the moment I had your fingers inside me! I get I was kinda slow to notice, but you could’ve guided me to the right path! You’ve been guiding me all along anyway!”

“You realise you just confessed to me, right?” He was half amused, half confused.

Y/N hesitated. “I do.”

“You don’t get to take it back.” He shook his head, coming for her.

“I don’t.” She agreed.

“Say it again, full words now.” Soobin held her chin up, eyes locking with hers.

“I’m not being the one to take the first step again, Bin. I did it twice, it’s your turn now!”

He had some cheesy lines on the tip of his tongue, but she was right. She deserved something genuine after being brave enough for both of them.

“I love that you trusted me to take you off your shell, to help you find confidence and bloom. I love that you were crazy enough to cross the line for both of us, because if you haven’t… I wouldn’t be here now.” Without warning, he stole a peck, relishing on her surprised moan. “I love that you showed me all your versions and let me fall in love with each of them. I love that it’s you and that I get to tell you that it’s you, Y/N. I love you. For real.” She blinked, and Soobin’s eyes winded. “W-Wait a minute! Is this… A teardrop?”

Y/N chuckled, feeling the wet drop on her cheek. “Well, you can’t get all poetic and expect me to be unphased by it! Not after trying to give me up like the hero of a sappy book would!”

“I didn’t know, love.” He shook his head, wiping another tear. “I didn’t know you felt the same. You’re so good at channelling everything, I misread it.”

“I can’t hide much when it’s about you. You make sense, and you make me special.”

“You are special, love. To me.”

“You’re special to me too, Bin. Thanks for deciding on helping me despite the risks.”

“To have you in the end, I’d do it all over again.”

“I love you, Bin. Sorry it took so long.”

“It didn’t take long, we both were just… A bit blind.”

She smiled, agreeing and kissing him again. Now, with honest feelings out in the open, she noticed that the anxiety from before had disappeared. It wasn’t that she was insecure and shy, she was just focusing on the wrong gamer guy.

thank you all for reading <33

as always, english is not my first language, so any mistakes please feel free to tell me!

#soobin scenarios #soobin smut #txt scenarios #txt smut #txt #marieverso

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ruby-red-inky-blue · 18 days

Text

Post hoc ergo propter hoc

A con of being friends with the White House Press Secretary, Jyn finds, is that the good-natured hazing in front of the rest of the press room goes on for far too long. Another is that Leia will absolutely not take no for an answer on the “mandatory tour”, even though she clearly doesn’t have time for it, going by the four aides that immediately besiege her as soon as they step out of the press room.

Jyn is sure there will be pros as well, but she hasn’t found any so far.

“Leia, Draven wants you in his office in half an hour about the HUD thing,” says the last of the aides, jogging to keep up with them.

“Thank you, Kate,” Leia says without stopping, her arm still firmly linked with Jyn’s. “I’m just going to finish the tour for Miss Erso here. She’s my latest charge, she took over for Hal.”

“Oh!” The aide smiles brightly and shakes her hand. “Congratulations, ma’am,” she says and disappears down a corridor.

“Four people have called me ma’am today.”

“Get used to it. This is the White House, it’s like a reflex.” Leia stops to delegate some more important press secretary business in the next office over – Jyn gathers it’s the Communications Office – then returns to scoop her up again and drag her down another hallway.

“You haven’t shown me a thing, Leia.”

“Well, that was Kleya Marki’s office, and down there’s the mess, that’s always important –“

Jyn has a sudden realization followed by a horrible, sinking feeling. “Leia, please tell me we’re not –“

Too late. Leia has spotted her prey at the end of the corridor, and pulls her towards him, smiling brightly and heels unmistakably loud on the polished floor.

“Cassian!”

Oh God. “Leia, come on, he’s busy. It’s my first day, he can –“

“Nonsense, he just looks busy. He always looks busy.” She grabs Jyn by the sleeve and drags her further down the hall. “Cassian, meet the new Post correspondent!”

Jyn stumbles along, feeling like an absolute fool for falling for Leia’s whole spiel and letting herself be dazzled by the West Wing of it all – and for knowing the guy she was stupidly, wildly in love with in college and then left without a word now worked in this building, and still putting off preparing what the fuck she would do when she actually met him again until, well… right now.

The man who has stopped at the end of the hall is in a fairly rumpled suit, carrying a stack of files and looks achingly familiar even from afar. For half a breath, she’s standing in some Yale hallway and is about to run to catch up with him and probably do something silly like try and tackle the papers out of his hands – and then she’s back in the West Wing and they’re all ten years older and successful, serious people again. And she’s back to wondering if he still knows her name. Or if he hates her. And which would be worse.

After a beat, he turns around and walks towards them, with a spooked look on his face like he, too, briefly tripped over ten years of baggage – or, of course, like he’s trying to place someone who looks vaguely familiar. Then something, probably the lawyer in him, takes over, and he fixes an easy, warm smile on his face. She always liked his smile. He looks older, and even more tired than he used to – naturally, he’s Deputy Chief of Staff to the president – but still, he looks good. His hair looks as soft as she remembers, which is a deeply unhelpful thought.

“Jyn.”

She feels stupidly relieved. “You do remember me.”

An offended frown pulls at his eyes. She always did like those, too. They’re such a nice brown, it doesn’t translate on pictures.

“Of course I remember you.”

(To be fair, it probably is insulting to assume he’d forget a girlfriend he had for seven months, but still. He’s busy, and at least it would mean he couldn't hate her for disappearing overnight and never picking up the phone again.) Jyn opens her mouth, closes it again, feels herself blush.

“He keeps your Baba O’Reily piece on his bookshelf, you know,” Leia says with a grin, still holding on to Jyn’s jacket like she’s scared she’ll try and make a run for it. The thought has occurred to her.

“Very funny, Leia,” Cassian says curtly and makes a vague gesture down the hallway. “I… I’d love to – I have the Secretary of Labor waiting, so –“

“It’s fine, I know you’re –”

“We should catch up, though,” he says absent-mindedly, sorting through his stack of files before adding, with a quick look up at her: “Off the record.”

“Right.”

“Maybe just come by my office before you leave, if you’re free,” he says, fiddling with the files that are starting to slip. “I’ll be here, and uh, marginally less busy.”

“Okay, yeah. Sure.”

“Great. Um - congratulations, Jyn, on the – I have to go.”

“Yeah.”

Leia watches him dart off, smirking. “So, you two are really over that whole thing, huh?”

[keep reading on Ao3!]

#rebelcaptainweek #with that title obviously it's a #west wing au #but i have found that when you cross a political show with a lot of pathos #and characters with a lot of trauma and baggage #the result is not... how do you say... lighthearted #so. much as i wanted this to be a 'secret plan to fight inflation' type story it's more of a 'two cathedrals' type story #(though minus the sudden character death don't worry lol)#anyway!#there is technically more of this but i'm worried i'll start a thing that needs finishing so i'm still on the fence about it #have this for now! (edit: okay people seem excited about this? i'll try and whip chapter two into shape soon ish)#jyn x cassian #rogue one #modern au #my words

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midnightjewel · 2 months

Text

Plushy Surgery

Did the puppy get to your favorite plushy when you weren’t paying attention?

A/N: this is a very real thing that just happened to me I swear I was sobbing. My Jack Russell (bless his heart) thought that my weighted pink Dino was one of his toys and now my Dino is missing a tail. So poor Strawberry Lemonade will have to be a brave boy and go into surgery. Anyway! Enough of my oversharing!

Kirishima x Fem! Reader

I can do more parts with more characters!

You and your husband had recently gotten an Australian Shepard named Riot. He was a cute puppy, don’t get me wrong! But, he was very mischievous as well.

It had been about 4 months and he was doing very well with his potty training. There was a few mishaps here and there but all it was at this point was just you and Kirishima trying to find out his schedule and what times he particularly likes to go outside.

Riot was basically you guys child. You two didn’t have kids yet so he was the perfect first step until you two decided you were ready to discuss that topic. But because Riot was the puppy son of pro hero Red Riot and his spoiled little wife, that meant Riot got spoiled rotten. Any toy, treat, or accessories you wanted him to have is what he got. He had a little basket full of bandanas to wear and he even had his own little pajamas and a shark bath towel!

But nothing could compare to the massive bucket of toys that sat in your living room. That dog was living the absolute dream, a big house with a pool and a huge backyard, all of the meat and treats he could ever want, and any dog toy he could think of was right at the tip of his paw!

Riot was so well behaved! Well… most of the time…

You we’re cooking up some chicken and rice for dinner and according to the time on your phone it was 7:30 so that meant it was 30 minutes until your husband got off of work.

You were a bit nervous about leaving Riot slightly unsupervised while you cooked but it had to get done! You turned bluey on in the living room and you thought he would stay still because he loves that show. But Riot was learning how to climb the stairs as of recently so you were keeping your ears open for that.

As you checked on the rice you heard and felt your phone buzzing on the counter next to you. As you glanced over at the screen you saw that it was your husband. Of course, you always thought the worst so you immediately picked up.

“Kiri?” You inquired as you picked up the phone fearing it was one of his sidekicks and he had gotten into an accident or something

“Hi baby!” He spoke cheerfully “I’m alright! I hear the tone of your voice” he reassures you

“Oh ok” you breathe out in relief “So what’s up?” You ask him as you keep an eye on the stovetop

“Well I ran out of body soap last night and I was going to pick some up on my lunch break but I was swamped with paperwork” he tells you “So essentially what I’m asking is do you need anything while I’m at the store?”

“Oh I could’ve picked it up for you” you tell him “But actually, I’m running low on my sugar scrub can you pick one up for me?” You ask

“Of course baby! I’ll see you soon! I love you and Riot!”

That’s when your stomach dropped. Riot…

You hadn’t heard him walking around the kitchen looking for scraps

“Okay! We love you too!” You quickly hang up the phone and call out for the puppy “Riot?!” You peer into the living room bluey was on the tv but there was no sign of Riot.

“Riot!” You called out once again and you heard his paws practically jumping down the staircase to see his mommy. “Oh there you are” you sighed in relief “Wait.. what do you have in your mouth?!” You saw a indigo fabric that looked all too familiar

You got him to give you the piece of fabric and then you dashed up the stairs only to find that you had left your bedroom door open and your beloved shark… the one Eijirou had bought for you for your first Valentine’s Day together… it was slightly destroyed…

It was missing a fin that you were holding and it’s tail was halfway hanging off of his body. Your stomach was a pit as you picked up all of the stuffing and the pieces of small fabric off of the hardwood floor.

You brought it back downstairs and showed Riot what he had done and boy did he look guilty! As much as you hated to be stern with him, he wasn’t going to learn otherwise.

“Riot no! This is not Riot’s Toy!” You scolded him as you walked over to the toy basket “This is Riot’s toy!” You firmly state as you hand him a plush of a popsicle with a squeaker

You quickly bagged up all of the pieces to poor Mr Cuddles and continued to work on dinner. It was on low heat so luckily, nothing burned. You couldn’t help but notice how the un-involuntarily tears pricked your eyes.

Some people would say “it’s just a stuffed animal” but it wasn’t just a stuffed animal. It was an object that you cherished and loved. It had sentimental value.

As you began to plate the food and get drinks out of the fridge you heard the front door become unlocked and opened followed by Riot’s happy barking and squealing signaling that his father was home

“Hey gorgeous” he set his grocery bags down on the countertop and urgently came to kiss your lips as if he hadn’t done that just before he left for work. To be fair, it felt like an eternity being away from you.

“Hey” you tried your best to mask your sadness but of course he saw right through that. Could you blame him? You two had been together for almost 10 years now and married for 5 of them.

“What’s wrong?” He gently tilted your head to look up at him with a warm smile. “Well Riot broke Mr. Cuddles” you tell him as you point to the bag that was holding the contents of your stuffed shark

“Oh I see” he examined the broken plush “I’m sorry that happened” he pulled you into an embrace. “Tell you what, I’ll make some calls and we’ll get this fixed” he rubbed your back and you nodded in response

“Let’s eat” you smile at him “You’re probably hungry from saving the city all day” you pat his forearm as you hand him his plate to take to the dining room

Kirishima had gotten ahold of Bakugo and he was fortunately willing to fix it. Growing up with his mom as a fashion designer had its perks.

“Hey man” you hear your redhead husband talking to his best friend on the phone.

“What do you want it’s 10 o’clock!” The blonde scolded his friend

“Yeah I know it’s past your bedtime but I need a huge favor” he pleaded with Bakugo

After a deep sigh from the blonde he responded “go ahead”

“Thanks man! Can you sew good?” Kirishima inquired and the ash blonde laughed

“Can I sew? Is your hair unnatural? I’ll answer that for you! Yeah I can fucking sew and I’m pretty damn good at it!”

“Awesome! The dog got to (Name)’s plush and it desperately needs to be fixed. I’ll pay you!”

“No, shut up, there’s no need for that. Just drop it off in my office tomorrow morning and I’ll fix it on my lunch break”

———————————

After cleaning up dinner, getting showered, and ready for bed you two could finally settle down for the night. “Riot come up” Eijirou patted the bed and made kissy noises for the puppy to jump onto the king bed. After spinning in a few circles he finally settled down.

“Goodnight honey” you smile and kiss Eijirou as you turn off your bedside lamp. “Goodnight sweet girl” he smiles and turns his off as well.

As you turned over to sleep you felt Kirishima grab his phone off of his nightstand. It was a habit of his to go on his phone before bed and you didn’t mind but you knew that could never work for you. You needed to distance yourself from the phone if you wanted to get some rest.

But something just felt wrong. You weren’t holding onto your shark. To be fair, you had slept with it for almost ten years now. You tried to subtly get comfortable but you just couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t sleep with it, it was broken and you didn’t want to risk breaking it even more in your sleep.

“I can’t sleep” you sigh out into the open as you turn your head around to look at your husband who just smiles and shakes his head while grabbing the remote “come cuddle and watch some tv maybe that’ll make you sleepy” he pulls you close to him so that you’re laying your head on his chest “I’m probably not as good as Mr Cuddles but I assure you, I’m the next best thing” he rubs your back gently

“You’re the best” you smile at him as you feel yourself becoming sleepy

#anime #bnha #my hero academia #mha kirishima #mha bakugou #eijiro kirishima #kirishima x reader #domestic kirishima #pro hero #my hero academy fanfiction #kirishima fluff #kirishima x you #kirishima eijirou #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha kirishima #kirishima x fem!reader #x reader

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alicerosejensen · 1 year

Note

Can we see a headcanon of Leon’s girlfriend getting hit in by a guy(could be her guy friend) and they make her uncomfortable, then out of nowhere they just slap her on the butt. How would Leon react?

Minus one debt. Well, I'm glad I can write a little.

So, it's not even headcanons or text, but something in between. Like my thoughts.

There is a small smut, but not critical; Aggressive Leon; the reader shamelessly groped; Mention of physical violence (does not apply to the reader); Reader is a college girl (because I can, uh-huh); References to sexual violence.

I made the question a little worse, but the meaning would still be the same: Leon would fucking kill. Anyway.

- It could have happened at a party where you were hanging out with your friends.

- You have warned Leon that you will arrive late, but be sure to call him if there are any difficulties.

- You didn't really think you'd be late until 2am, but the booze and music convinced you to stay with your friends until early morning.

- No drugs! But you can't tell your college friend not to take them. In fact, you only drink and dance a lot, without even hearing that your phone is bursting with calls.

- Someday Leon will kill you for constantly playing on his nerves like a musical instrument (I'm not serious) but he's really worried that you're not answering texts or your calls, so it's time for things to track your phone.

- Leon can't stand some of your friends, considering he knows some of them are real junkies. He probably doesn't like that when they're high, they don't hesitate to make obscene compliments about how they would fuck you.

- When Leon first heard about it, you told him to just ignore it.

- But it was hard for Leon to control himself, if he heard it a second time, he would break this asshole's nose.

- Therefore, he is VERY concerned about your long absence and silence. Because he doesn't trust your friends.

- You realize that you have drunk more than your norm, because your feet no longer keep you on the ground. The whole world is spinning, but this does not mean that you could cheat on your boyfriend while drunk. Your brain knows who it is devoted to and who it loves.

- However, in this mess you absolutely can't find your phone to call him.

- I needed to at least get myself cleaned up. You started to feel sick, so you wandered to the toilet, then to catch a taxi and go home.

- With a swinging gait, you somehow reached your cherished goal when your friend's hand grabbed your wrist and pressed you against the wall with a brisk movement.

- The club is full of drunken kissing couples, so no one pays attention to you.

- Your brain didn't even immediately understand what was going on when someone godlessly started groping your ass.

- The back of your head hit the wall painfully, causing your brains to shake and turn into mush.

- And then someone's lips brazenly began to kiss your neck, despite the resistance.

- Someone's tongue is trying to get into your mouth with a disgusting kiss that tastes like cheap liquor.

- But weak attempts at resistance are perceived as flirting and teasing, despite the fact that you demand in a whimpering voice to stop.

- The only thing you know is that it's not Leon.

- "sh, hush, Sweetie, or are you just so submissive with your old man?" - Your friend's voice made you freeze in place in fear. - Like this! Be a pretty girl and let me touch you.

- Your (already former) friend allowed himself unforgivably much. You found the strength to push him in the chest and he staggered back a few steps away from you, mocking maliciously.

- "What? Do you only like old assholes, whore?"

- You try to pass by, ignoring his narcotic fumes mixed with alcohol, but again they grab you by the arm, dragging you somewhere to a secluded place.

- Your legs fail you and you stumble all the time trying to wrest your hands from a strong grip.

- Now you're not just uncomfortable. You are afraid.

- You scream to be let go otherwise there will be serious problems, hoping that this will somehow help you.

- But in return, you hear only disgusting insults.

- "Dumb slut! Your old man can even lift his ass off the couch to fuck you well! Tell me, Y/N, what did he do to you? money? Do you really want to live with a rich sugar daddy? You let him fuck you so he buys you all those tight skirts and blouses?"

- You are truly scared. Your friend is out of his mind and drags you into some back room, practically dragging you along. Even when you cry and fall trying to run back, he grabs your hair and continues on his way.

- It's not real! you try to convince yourself that this is a cruel joke of your friends, but it's all for real.

- You get pawed again trying to take away your tight dress, and even some of the self-defense techniques that Leon taught you do not work on him. You cry, begging not to do anything to you, that you will just leave and not tell anyone anything.

- Mascara dripped down your cheeks as you cried loudly, trying to somehow cover the bare parts of your body.

- Obscenities were whispered in your ear, and if it was Leon, some part of them could make you tremble, but now you just want to close your eyes and die.

- Salvation is nowhere to be found. However, you do not want to submit to your fate and bite your friend (I remind you of the former) painfully on the fingers when he put them in your mouth.

- Another attempt to escape in one inch. And it didn't succeed when they knocked you to the floor, preventing you from escaping.

- You may have time to shout "Help" several times before you are gagged and all you hear is the sound of jeans being unzipped.

- You had already closed your eyes, preparing for the worst, when you heard the sound of the door being thrown open.

- And then the relief when no one else presses you down with their body to the icy floor.

- Not understanding the madness around, part of your brain tells you to run while you can, but you understand your eyes only see an angry Leon beating up your rapist.

- How much chance does an ordinary civilian asshole have against a specially trained agent? Leon slams the bastard's head on the floor and you crawl back into the corner in horror, watching his bloodstained face stare at you.

- Maybe it seemed to you... But the beating to never end. In this chaos, you couldn't make out Leon's words, except for the expressions "Son of a bitch" and "Fucking scum" it seems there was something about your untouchability. However, you could no longer endure this spectacle of endless beatings. Is it possible that Leon tried to kill him like that?

- No gunshots, no squelching sounds like a knife stabbing in the throat. You just screamed in horror mixed with fear when you saw what this asshole had turned into. Although he could still speak, it made sure that he was still alive.

- Leon lost control of himself. He looked at him like a vile worm and headed towards you, immediately softening in his eyes.

- Without saying anything, he just wrapped you in his jacket before quickly making sure that what was planned was not done and picked you up like a feather in his arms, taking you away from this place.

- Lastly, "I'm not done with you, son of a bitch"

- Leon put you gently in the car and fastened your seat belt, and you spent the whole way home in silence and tears, afraid to look at him. He didn't say or do anything either.

- You returned home the same in his arms. Leon sat you down on the couch, tossed keys on the coffee table, and then kicked the chair that caught his eye first.

- The situation was heating up.

- Leon took a deep breath, licking his lips, clearly wanting to say something as he looked in your direction. You sat in the same place without moving.

- His aggression was overflowing and he had to make a huge effort not to yell at you, instead ordering you to take off your jacket (he was really trying to say it calmly)

- You obediently complied with his request, putting the leather jacket aside, hugging your shoulders.

- Still sobbing.

- Leon came back to you with a first aid kit to make sure there weren't any major injuries or scratches.

- But he couldn't contain his anger.

- "Why am I always pulling your ass out of all the shit?!"- Perhaps the sight of someone else's hickey on your neck made him scream. - "Is it so difficult not to look for problems? Why the hell should I look for you in a fucking drug club where your drug addict friend almost raped you?! Why the hell didn't you get home on time? How much of your fucking quirks do I have to put up with? until they kill you?"

- The hysteria grew, but there were absolutely no words. Leon threw something fragile at the wall, and it shattered into pieces, making you cry even more in fright.

- You prayed for only one thing: for this to end.

- Leon took a deep breath trying to control his anger. Without saying anything, he went into the bath where you heard the sound of running water.

- After 10 minutes, everything was quiet and Leon went into the kitchen pouring some whiskey into a glass, but instead of drinking it himself, he sat down in front of you, forcing you to drink it yourself.

- "Come on, let's get you cleaned up and then you can go to bed."

- Leon helped take off your torn dress and underwear and soaked your shaking body in warm water, turning away to find your facial sponge to wash off the smudged make-up.

- You were trembling despite the surrounding heat and apparently drunk alcohol makes itself felt.

- Leon tidied you up carefully, looking at your bruises. Didn't bother for a long time. Wrapped it up in a towel and took it to the bedroom where he pulled out your underwear from the drawer, which he put on you and his shirt.

- You knew he wouldn't hurt you, so maybe that's why you were still looking for protection from him? Leon laid pillows on you, covering you with a thick blanket, preparing himself for a sleepless night.

- In the morning you will feel bad. Both physically and mentally, of course, he will take care of you and he does not believe that you are to blame for what happened. It's just that if you really want to be with him, you'll have to cut your circle of fucking friends and not get on his nerves.

- He loves you to death, so you love him.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 years

Text

when it all comes Crashing Down

tags: 18+, afab!reader, childhood friends to friends(?) with benefits, codependent relationship

summary: it fascinates you how someone so manipulative and cruel can be so sensitive and needy

a/n: writing pro-tip, always write down random sentences whenever they come to you because you never know when it’ll be the source of inspiration for a story. in this case, an introspective think piece on makima’s loneliness that is also smut where neither of you are the good guy. also available on AO3.

If windows are eyes to the soul, you wonder what that means for someone like Makima.

Or rather, you wonder what people see when they look at them. You’ve known her for the better part of your life and at 25, you still aren’t sure what others see. That is at the forefront of your mind as gold eyes with red rings look back at you, a calculating smile accompanying them.

“Are you listening to me?” Makima tilts her head as she rests her chin on her palm.

You nod vaguely at your childhood friend, turning your gaze to your phone screen. “I heard you say a week ago that you have a partner assignment due this week and yet somehow you’re here at my place instead of doing that.” You have your apartment to yourself for once, your roommate gone for the weekend to stay the night at one of her girlfriends’ apartments. “Shouldn’t you be out doing your homework?”

“I can’t visit my best friend from time to time?” Makima implores as if she is surprised by your own inquiry

“That isn’t what I asked,” yet you already know the answer. You aren’t completely well-acquainted with Aki Hayakawa. He’s a friend of a friend and you see him from time to time when said friends throw parties or have other get-togethers. Those were enough encounters for you to know the man is absolutely smitten with the redhead in front of you, spooning a piece of the tiramisu she brought over. He’d do anything Makima asked of him with more enthusiasm you could ever produce.

Unsurprisingly, Makima confirms what you already suspect. “Hayakawa told me he could do the rest of it,” she replies lightly with a smile. And there we go. You wonder what the poor sap sees in her when you know Makima doesn’t see him as more than an amusing puppy chasing after her braid. “I wanted to visit because I thought you might be lonely. Here,” she raises her spoon towards your lips. “I made this for you.”

“Nah I’m good,” Makima’s baking isn’t necessarily the problem. It’s the measurements, her measurements just aren’t for you.

“You said you wanted to try tiramisu recently,” Makima counters, her hand not moving an inch.

“First, I mentioned that in passing,” you raise a finger and quickly follow it with another. “Second, I also said I was going to try it out with Quanxi next Saturday.” One of her girlfriend’s, Long, is having a birthday celebration at an Italian restaurant. “They say patience is a virtue, I can wait.”

“I think it’s a voluntary virtue when it comes to food,” Makima lowers her hand for a moment. “Are you just trying to say you don’t want to eat my baking?”

You snort, “that’s exactly what I’m saying, yes. I trust your cooking, not your baking. You have never gotten the right amount of sugar that I can stomach.” You’ve never been able to eat things too sweet. Even as a child you would scrape off most of the frosting on cupcakes, sliding it onto Makima’s plate who welcomed the additional sweetness.

“That’s a bit mean” that is hilarious coming from the undisputed Queen of Mean. You distinctly remember the time in middle school where Makima laughed at a scene of a protagonist crying over the death of a friend. That in itself was ironic coming from the same girl who, at the beginning of that same semester, clutched your shirt and sobbed like it was the end of the world when you found out you shared zero classes and had separate lunch periods. “I worked hard to make this for you. You should spoil a person more when you’ve known them since you were 6.”

You distinctly know the spoiling she is referring to is about herself. “I always spoil you,” I’ve been doing it since we were kids. It crosses your mind, not for the first time, that if it weren’t for your parents, you are sure you and Makima would never have become friends.

Your mom was her mom’s friend in university and by some chance, they ended up enrolling you both at the same school and found out when you were both picked up later after classes. There began your days of playing whatever game Makima desired and your possessions somehow becoming her possessions. Whenever you voiced your grievances to your mom, however, she always told you to be kind and understanding in a tone that let you know that you recognized even now. A tone that says “this has something to do with something we adults discussed”.

It didn’t take too long for you at that age to notice the traces of what your mother was likely referring to.

You never saw much of Makima’s parents when you were younger; you don't see much of them now.

School events, holidays and a few random things in between. It wasn’t Makima’s family that shared them with her but yours. That realization made you think back to the times you would complain about mandatory family time and your mother would rebuttal, “not everyone is lucky to have parents that love them so much, [First], you should be grateful.”

Indulging Makima became habit after that as long as it was in reason.

You’re sure there is a part of her that resents you choosing to room with a classmate rather than her though.

“Just try it,” Makima raises her spoon again and, with a sigh, you relent.

Almost immediately, you balk at the taste, nose scrunching in displeasure. “Like I said,” you grab Makima’s cup of black tea and down a large mouthful. “You always make things too sweet. This is why I’m gonna eat it at a restaurant with an actual baker.”

You lay your head on the foot of the couch, rejecting the too-sweet tiramisu in its entirety. “I’ll just make Quanxi pay for it when I order it. She owes me for what happened last weekend.” You aren’t one to knock someone getting laid but your roommate fucking her girlfriends loudly all night the night before you had a exam was evil. All she did when you banged on the door to keep it down was toss her noise-canceling headphones before closing it again. At least when I fuck in the house I have the decency to keep shit down, you grumble internally pushing away the fact Quanxi technically also offered to let you join in the fun.

You probably would have joined if you weren’t sleep-deprived and irritated.

C’est la vie.

“[First].”

“Hmm,” you hum in response without opening your eyes. Your eyes find themselves opening a moment later when you feel the distinct feeling of another body over your own, Makima placing her legs on either side of your hips as she sits on your lap.

Red frames gold as she looks down on you and you stare back wordlessly before her lips press against yours.

It fascinates you how someone so manipulative and cruel can be so sensitive and needy.

Cruelty comes easy to Makima, no different than a child experiencing troubles at home taking out their frustrations on a random kid at school.

She’s angelic in appearance, devilish in nature.

She wants to be treated gently when she is incapable of treating people gently herself.

By your second to last year of high school, you wondered what your relationship meant about you.

Knowing her ways yet staying her friend regardless which only birthed the question as to why you remained her friend. It donned on you not too long after that the reason was pity when you held a distraught Makima in your arms in your room when a former mutual friend stated his intentions not to associate with her any longer. You remember finding it strange that she was so upset when you didn’t think Makima even considered Madoka to be a friend in the first place.

She said as much when you asked her before the event transpired.

“He’s more like an acquaintance, they all are,” Makima had told you. “But not you [First], you’re my real friend.”

The only one she has.

It dawned on you then if Madoka wanting nothing to do with her could make her cry, you doing the same would make Makima undoubtedly break. It’s ironic how the loneliest people can be the most sadistic.

So she can be cruel; as long as that cruelty never turns to you, you will continue to be there even when you are sure you both know that your friendship has long since passed the expiry date. You’ll be there when she needs to cry, you’ll accompany her on walks for her dogs and you’ll lay her down in your bed when she wants to feel the skin of another on her own like you are now.

Makima’s arms tighten around your shoulders, hips bucking as the butt of your palm rubs against her clit as you thrust your fingers inside her. She’s absolutely soaked and you can’t help relishing that fact as Makima moans your name like it’s the only word she knows.

Maybe this was inevitable, the two of you like this, you think vaguely as you leave a trail of wet kisses from her breasts to her belly before settling between her legs. You lap at her core slowly, bringing one of your hands to clasp her own and Makima intertwines her fingers between yours tightly.

You press one finger in her pussy, sucking on her clit.

You add a second when you kiss her folds.

You continue thrusting your fingers once you add a third and Makima moves her hips to press into your ministrations. It takes a few moments to find a rhythm, alternating between licking and maintaining the movement of your finger. It doesn’t take much longer for Makima’s thighs to tighten around your head, coming with a soft cry.

You pull out your fingers, vaguely acknowledging the ache in your wrist and glance in her direction. From your position you can see her chest heave up and down, hand tightly gripping yours as she reels from the aftershocks. If she held it any tighter, you’re sure it would break.

With two light taps on her hip, Makima loosens her grip on your head tiredly and you kiss her inner thighs before finally moving to lay on your pillow beside her. It takes a moment to pull your hand away from hers, Makima’s grip iron tight. “Hey, I need that hand to hug you, weirdo,” is all it takes for her hand to loosen its hold and gently you take back your hand.

There is no fighting against your tugging as you pull Makima into your chest like you’ve done many times before holding firmly but gently, just as she likes. You don’t comment on the soft sniffle you hear, it’s an unspoken rule for you both not to point out when she cries during sex. Almost instinctively, Makima presses herself even closer as she wraps her arms around your waist. Sometimes you wonder if she is trying to live in your skin.

“[First],” Makima murmurs almost too softly for you to hear when she’s wound down.

You fiddle with a lock of her hair, “What is it?”

“Stay the night with me tomorrow,” her nails dig into your back and you note she sounds almost uncertain in her command. Desperate.

You close your eyes, tired. “We can go in the morning.”

#look she's writing #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #makima x reader #neither makima or the reader are the good guy in this because sometimes things are just morally gray for all parties involved #thanks tyler the creator for the title inspo lol

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fict1onallyobsessed · 1 year

Note

Hey babe, I could I request a Rhea Ripley x Deaf!Reader headcannon? I’ve just managed to afford cochlear implants and my mind is blown at how much I actually couldn’t hear before. Something with Rhea learning signs language for R? R doesn’t have to be completely deaf like I am, maybe just partially and Rhea helps her through it? Thank you so much if you do this, would mean the absolute world.

Rhea with a Deaf/HoH!Reader

Rhea Ripley x Deaf!Fem!Reader

I severely apologise if I got anything wrong babe 🥲

She knew you were hard of hearing, but she didn’t know to what extent.

So, instead of coming up to you to ask for your phone number like she originally planned, she wrote you a little note like a high-school crush does, and dropped it off at your desk one night with her number on it instead.

Maybe it was her nerves, but she thought that when she saw no message on her phone from you, you just didn’t want to talk to her.

But then…

“Hey, you left me a note? :)”

Idiot could not stop smiling at her phone for ages.

The two of you kept messaging back and forth for a while before she asked you to go out formally, in person, to a random park and maybe to get ice cream.

You didn’t know she knew you were deaf, and so you decided to break it to her before your “date”, unsure if she’d be interested since there was a barrier in communication.

“I just need to let you know so your not surprised, I’m deaf. I have cochlear implants so I can hear, but it’s sometimes hard to especially in public spots. Hope we can still meet :)”

It was kinda a mission of hers, whether you liked to wear your cochlear implants or not, to learn the basics in sign language.

Of course out of basic respect for you, but also so you didn’t feel the need to constantly accommodate her by wearing the implant to talk.

She spend hours, and I mean hours learning proper and correct signs, maybe to impress you a little, for your first date.

It surprised you, but in a good way. She greeted you, tried her best at speaking and signing basic things, apologised so many times for messing up and not knowing, and even thanked you at the end without any mistakes.

It was so cute, and you definitely let her know she was amazing, so she continued to learn stuff just for the sake of impressing you further.

Let’s skip to when you guys get serious and you move in together, Rhea is basically a pro at sign language; although when she messes up you do giggle.

You loved the fact you didn’t need to wear your implants 24/7 to be able to communicate to your loved one.

Now imagine Rhea telling you she loves you but instead of saying it, she signs it 🥹

SHE DOES IT CORRECTLY TOO

You almost cried

*I have to tell you something. Don’t laugh if I get it wrong*

You nod ready to get asked the most odd question because she botched something, but instead she just signs…

*I love you*

She’d be so shy too

THE END

#wwe x reader #rhea ripley #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley x reader #demi bennett #demi bennett x reader #rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley smut #demi bennett fluff #demi bennett imagine #demi bennett angst #wwe imagine #wwe incorrect quotes #wwe wrestling #rhea #liv x rhea

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ceilidho · 8 months

Note

I absolutely adore all of your works, I have read every single one of them because the way you write is just so out of this world, i go back and i just reread them all of them time and I honestly, from the bottom of my heart, hope that one day you really do go pro and get published because I know that you would absolutely EAT dude.

The way I found you was through your Ghost house cleaner to live in girlfriend au (this was right before you were getting into your Desire Paths, at least I think it was a around then, sometimes my memory is fuzzy so i can’t always trust it, it might have been before that but watching you develop your stories before and since then has always been so fun and interesting) and I went to reread it because today had just sucked and all i want to do is live in a cabin in the woods but by the water (that was so specific and unrelated, sorry)

ANYWAYS i went back to read it again since it had been a long while and yeah man!! Service industry sucks, i would quit in a heartbeat to clean if the pay was good and the guy was barely there! And ghost is just so…well, ghost so it’s funny and a lil anxiety inducing too see cracks of him just be like ‘‘ah. You. alright. Stay.” because the way you’ve written him has always given the vibe of ‘if you go, i will follow’

I don’t know. I just really love your work and this little throwback fic made me happy after a shit day and I just wanted to share, and also this is NOT trying to push you to write for more of it, I just really wanted to tell you.

And if I’m wrong about the vibe of Ghost, i’m sorry, sometimes I can’t explain what I mean very well and it comes out strange lol

Hope you’re having a good day!

😭😭 this was so nice to read, thank you so much!!!! i promise if i ever write something that isn't fanfiction, you'll be the first to know lmao i absolutely won't be able to shut up about it, i promise. i'm soooo bad at keeping my mouth shut.

ahhhh my live in house cleaner au is still one of my faves and i will return to it one day when i can think of a fun plot for it. in the meantime, i promise i'll keep feeding you with other Ghost aus because the list on my phone is endless and i'll never truly be able to hit the bottom.

you have my personal interpretation of Ghost down pat though.

thank you so much again, this was so sweet :)) i did have a nice day!! just came back from a movie with friends and excited to go to sleep so i can wake up tomorrow for my spin class !!!

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obsessedtomone · 9 months

Text

Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 4 - Mistakes▸Shigaraki x femReader

Chapter Summary:

◤ Honestly, what the fuck were you thinking?!

All alarms are going off in your useless excuse of a brain and you start feeling an immense amount of dread seeping into your bones. You need to take this back, right fucking now, or who knows what he’s going to—◢ Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three • Four • Five

Chapter 4 - Mistakes

It was ninety-three MILLION fucking miles away, and somehow, the sun still manages to shine through the blinds and right into your fucking face.

You squint at your phone and then sigh.

150 missed messages from the computer science project group chat, and another eight from Taylor, making you feel more than overwhelmed. The past one and a half weeks were pretty uneventful.

You slept, climbed ranks in the holy trinity of Riot Games, worked at your part time job and showed up to your classes for at least half of the time. Despite trying to convince yourself it wasn’t for any reason in particular. You were especially prone to dodging your CS classes, most of them all.

In short, you’re doing fine. The ‘free’ time you have feels boring and seemingly peaceful. And you couldn’t complain when boring was exactly what you needed—especially since most of your life was anything but.

That being said, it’s hard to ignore that broken part of your monkey brain that craves the instability and stress you got used to growing up. You feel uncomfortable feeling comfortable, like bugs crawling under your skin and waiting, wanting for the storm to brew, so that you can fuck yourself over, the cycle of self-sabotage going strong as always. Having insane academic goals and working hard towards them helped that aspect of yourself quite a bit, but it still feels like something’s missing.

Something only years of therapy and healthy relationships with people would be able to change.

As the deadline is quickly approaching, it’s finally time to check what the project is about and do your part before your presentation on Wednesday. You glance at the unsaved numbers of three other people you’ve never previously heard of—or cared enough to learn about—being displayed on top of the chat. So you go ahead and save them, knowing you’ll remove them as soon as the presentation is over.

Scrolling down, you notice your group mates freaking out about two of the members—one being you—not sending their part in yet, despite the deadline being around two and a half days away.

Yui(I think?) — What do we do about the others, Ojiro…? :( Guys pls, I seriously don’t wanna do everything by myself. [Sent 9:13 AM]

Mashirao(jock blondie) — Don’t worry, I’ll call them later today. If they don’t reply by then, we’re on our own I guess. We’ll have to let the professor know. They should know better than to ghost us, honestly. Honors student or not, they’re both dickheads. [Sent 9:17 AM]

Yui(I think?) — Ahh! Stop! 💀 They can read this too!!! [Sent 9:25 AM]

Mashirao(jock blondie) — Let them. I’m not afraid of either of them and they should feel ashamed for making us do all the work. [Sent 10:05 AM]

You can’t help but roll your eyes at their childish hostility.

Wow, first of all, they have absolutely no faith in you. Second of all, are they like, three years old? They’re openly discussing fucking you over in a group chat that you’re literally part of. At least do that shit in your DMs, not in the open where both targets can read them.

And maybe, maybe, if you really thought about it, you know it was sort of fair. You probably are the world’s laziest, biggest procrastinator, but if they knew about your name enough to diss you, they should also know you’d never compromise your grades because you really fucking need this scholarship.

Besides, you’re not bad at farming credits. Two days of work is more than enough for you to do your part and then some. Deeply flawed individual that you are, but a highly functioning one with a brain good enough to power up whenever you need it to.

If anything, it’s you who couldn’t understand how these losers needed so much time to figure out their shit, when the material has always been always pretty straight forward (except when the fucking professor is too tired of his life to do his fucking job).

Yui(I think?) — Yeah so… I finally added my part to the shared cloud! If by some miracle the other two see this, you guys have access to the project too! Please please please send it in time, I don’t wanna fail CS this year again maaan ;_; We still have to prepare the talking points together! [Sent 10:30 AM]

You — ill get everything done before the deadline, assholes [Sent 2:14 PM]

You — also pro tip, if you tap the back button on the chat window, look for someone’s name and then open it, you can actually talk shit privately ;) [Sent 2:14 PM]

Before you close the chat window, you see two rows of angry dot animations ready to cuss you out, no doubt. Too bad you can’t be bothered with irrelevant idiots.

And so you stand up, take a shower—the first one in a couple of days—and mentally prepare yourself for two weeks worth of work, squeezed into a one all-nighter and a half.

After all, in stress, you thrive.

─────────

Thud –

After dropping your bag next to your desk, you slide in your seat. You’re petty as fuck when you do, because of course you have to pick the seat that is right beside him.

Your favorite neighbor’s white haired head is buried in his arms, laying against his desk and probably taking a goddamn nap.

This motherfucker.

The two week creep-detox did fucking nothing for you, because you notice your disdain for him is still as fresh as it was the night at the convenience store—if not stronger.

Not only did this asshole not fucking reply to your group in time (like you fucking did), but he also didn’t contribute to your project whatso-fucking-ever. In fact, he’d never even read any of the chat messages.

God are you fucking pissed at him. Beyond pissed, you’re fuming—because who else would’ve done his fucking part if it wasn’t for you? Not even! You’ve done your part, his part and then on top of everything, you had to fucking fix everyone else’s too!

Incompetent fuckers! All of them!

It bothers you so much because you really do feel like you were getting walked all over, but at least it shut those two clowns up and that was enough motivation for you to get the job done. That, and the ridiculous grades you need to get for you to keep your stupid fucking scholarship rolling every year.

You sigh, staring at the mop of white hair next to you, wishing you had superpowers so you could burn a hole through his head and melt his brain off.

That being said, there’s two ‘interesting’ things you've found out about him during this annoying ass group project, first one being that the asshole’s name was Shigaraki fucking Tomura.

The Shigaraki Tomura.

You’d heard about his infamy over the years—never being able to put a face to the name—but nothing came even close to the stories Taylor began telling you about him. ‘Like girl, do you live under a fucking rock?!’ is what your friend asked in an extremely dramatic tone before setting off on spilling the ‘tea’ for your ‘uncultured ass’—whatever the fuck that means.

The second interesting thing you’ve found out is, that the mystery white-haired slacker isn’t just a random incel loser, who gets off on paying for strangers’ energy drinks, but also seems to be a serious anti-social, borderline criminal individual.

According to the stories, he’s now been in court more times than you can count, charged with various offenses that range from physical violence, assault, theft, vandalism, drug-related charges, to more minor ones such as trespassing and public disturbances—all of ‘em either involving students or straight up gang members. Shit you’d normally hear about from the news or in movies.

He’s friends with a bunch of other convicted criminal misfits, seems to have spent—like you—a few months in juvie and people swear he’s not all talk when he threatens to beat the shit out of you, never discriminating between genders. You’re pretty sure that this wasn’t what women fought for when they said feminism.

That alone begged the question if he was really gonna make good on the promise to fuck you up, last time you bothered him. What if you kept pestering him further?

Thinking about it leaves your mouth dry.

There’s a reason as to why he’d managed to get out of every court case with nothing more than misdemeanors. That reason came in the shape of his daddy’s wealth and connections, a convenient ‘get out of jail free’ card and something normal people (you) could never afford. Which is why your criminal record was now forever tainted.

A true show of society’s totally unbiased conduct towards the mighty upper class, you suppose.

But it doesn’t fucking matter what his past was like, you quickly decide, if for your own sanity. It also doesn’t matter if you can relate to the shitty overblown rumors that are circulating around. Or the fact that the two of you share so many similarities.

What really matters now, is that he’s actively trying to jeopardize your perfect score sheet—and by extension, your scholarship—by not stepping up and contributing to the project. And you couldn’t let that slide.

Shigaraki continues resting on his desk, occasionally scratching the top of his head and yawning while not paying you any mind.

You bite the skin off of your lip anxiously, unable to wait and teach this entitled little asshole a fucking lesson for messing with you.

─────────

Time passes and it’s finally your group’s turn.

All of you gather in front of the lecture hall—well, all of you, save for Mr. Creep in the back corner of the room, who’s still hunched over and scrolling his phone.

If the rare upturned corners of your lips is something to go by, you’re in for some serious mischief today.

The professor opens up with a brief introduction to your project in front of the many bored students, and your group finally starts presenting. It all goes well except for the fact that, despite your age, you have this incredible stage fright.

On paper, nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone has their weaknesses, right? But in reality, your hands are shaking uncontrollably, your voice is trembling involuntarily and you mess up most of your speaking turn, feeling like a complete fucking idiot.

It gets worse the moment you realize that somewhere along the presentation, a pair of piercing red eyes began studying you incessantly. His sudden attention on you makes your body sweat about three times the amount everyone else’s would combined. It’s insanely jarring, in the worst fucking sense. You scoff, thinking that he might as well have pinned you to the wall.

It’s like he knows you’re up to some bullshit. Like he could smell it. There’s no way he actually could, but the tiny guilty part of your lizard brain isn’t able to comprehend that right now, not when it feels like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Fuck him.

You steel your flimsy resolve and you try to recover your composure as much as you can, doing your best to make-believe you’re in a nice, quiet place where you could feel at peace (maybe at his funeral) and you somehow make it to the end of your stupid speaking part.

It’s easy to tell how utterly embarrassed your group mates are with your awful presentation, as their parts are much more animated, smoother and definitely confident in comparison—no students snorting or snickering at their desk neighbors during the time they presented.

But it doesn’t particularly bother you aside from a slight hit to your ego, because you know this professor will read the documentation and ultimately see the amount of work you’d put into the written part of the project. Your shitty teammates could glare at you all they wanted, but you did more than half of the fucking project on your own and that would lead to one thing only—a great fucking score.

Who needs social skills—not that you were blessed with any—when your future job will probably only require you to sit behind a screen most of the day? That’s something you’re already really fucking good at, to a detrimental point. It’s a real miracle that you made it so far in life without your vision getting much worse than it already is.

“Very good,” the professor says simply.

He begins praising the sturdiness of the project, mentioning your name and making you cringe when he inevitably points out the bumpy part—your bumpy part—of the presentation. Overall, he seems quite impressed with the quality and the execution and promises to email everyone their scores once he’s done correcting them.

“However,” you hear him talk again, his following sentence filling you with unbridled giddiness, “I seem to notice you’re missing a member of your group?” The professor trails off with a furrowed brow as he stares at his notes. “I’m positive I’ve assigned everyone four people, except for the previous group who was the only exception in this class. Your project however, only mentions the three of you. Why is that?”

He flips through the papers and checks on his barely-working laptop as well, checking for something akin to an error on his part.

“No, you are correct, sir,” you chime in mischievously, “Mr. Shigaraki over there—” you speak up and your eyes meet his unexpectedly focused ones.

His expression seems to turn into one of intrigue, maybe at the prospect of your little scheme. He’s definitely sitting a little straighter than before. Listening. As if this class finally became interesting to him, opposed to almost falling asleep in his chair earlier.

You clear your throat after feeling it contract with a pang of anxiety and continue, “—decided that we weren’t worth his precious time, and sadly did not contribute to our project whatsoever.” You finish your sentence while glancing at your fingernails before completely throwing him under the bus. “In fact he dumped all of his work on us and decided to not communicate. I—um, we thought it was for the best that he shouldn’t take credit over all of our weeks of hard work, sir.”

You almost slipped up, but managed to recover—and then you notice how the other two NPCs in your group stare at you in horror.

Despite tactically lumping them in with you, to save you from getting in potential trouble, they did in fact not know or have any say in your decision to leave Shigaraki out—not that you cared to ask for their worthless opinions anyway. They should be happy for the free full marks that you’re confident they wouldn’t have gotten without your help.

A sly smile begins spreading on your face.

This was it. Fuck him, his stupid mug and his shitty attitude.

Checkmate, Shigaraki, you muse to yourself, smirking and gauging the reaction of the professor who seems to be deep in thought for a moment.

When you look back at Shigaraki to check how he’s faring—

You feel literal chills running down your spine.

He’s simply… smiling at you.

A wide, creepy and weirdly calculating smile.

A smile that tells you, you’re in trouble.

Like a bucket of ice dropping over your head, you just grasp the weight of your mistake. The reason your classmates stared at you in disbelief. The reason the whole room of people stared at you in disbelief.

He is a rich trust fund kid who, according to the rumors, has a background consisting of only unpunished violence and very fucking little to lose. You are a lower class student, who fucked with him knowing the horrible stories that circled around him.

So why was it again that you decided to not believe he was capable of retaliating, even when you’d found out most students avoided him like the plague? Did you think he would be as pathetic and powerless as you were? Are you projecting again?

Honestly, what the fuck were you thinking?!

“I see,” the professor interrupts your train of thought, scratching the stubble on his chin thoughtfully before speaking again, “To be honest with you, I’m considering disqualifying your group’s entire project, for the simple fact that the bunch of you made such a hasty decision, and did not think of consulting with me first to find a solution.”

You feel your gut twist even harder and your two classmates are now rightfully glaring daggers at you.

“I will however opt to only cut your score by twenty percent, because it really is an outstanding project, but I expect this to serve as a reminder that I—do not—tolerate insubordination, and this instance is not to be repeated by any of you.” The professor looks at your group, then at Shigaraki himself. “Have I made myself properly understood?”

You feel shame burn your cheeks red as you nod before the figure of authority, but the boy in the back wasn’t listening anymore.

It was as if the rest of the world—save for the two of you—ceased to exist at that moment.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #emotional hurt/comfort #shigaraki tomura #unhealthy relationships #dead dove do not eat #trigger warnings #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x you #tenko shimura #tomura shigaraki #college au #reader is female

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theharrowing · 2 years

Text

This Sordid Place 📲 1: We do not sl*t-shame in this house!

Namjoon breaks down and installs Grindr after his friends complain he is “terminally single,” despite never really being into hook ups. Jungkook is an old pro at the hookup app.

Their connection is instant.

📲 Namjoon x Jungkook

📲 word count: 10.4k

📲 strangers to lovers, dating app au, smut, fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+

📲 warnings: use of the word “slut” but not derogatorily; pining; flirting; general anxiety; Jungkook is a confident gay; Namjoon is trying his best; almost juggling two men on grindr (Joonie has options okay); side YoonJin with an appearance of Taehyung.

📲 written for the BTS Found Fest!

📲 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading!

📲 posted dec. 2022 | read on ao3

INDEX | NEXT

Namjoon stares at his phone, feeling absolutely ridiculous. He has made a Grindr account at the behest of his best friends Yoongi and Seokjin, who complain that he is "terminally single." And now he scrolls through the sea of images, deciding who he deems attractive, nervous that someone may deem him attractive enough to strike up conversation.

Warm breath wafts over Namjoon's cheek and he jumps as he realizes how close Seokjin is sitting, his pointed features and dark brown hair coming into focus in his periphery as the man stares at the wall of profile pictures on Namjoon's phone.

"This is just for fucking," Namjoon mutters sheepishly.

Seokjin chuckles. "Yes, but perhaps you will enjoy fucking someone so much, you'll decide to date them."

"But what if they're...promiscuous," Namjoon says. "How do you...I don't know...stay safe?"

A firm slap across the back of Namjoon's head makes him jump, and he spins quickly to find Yoongi standing behind the sofa with his arms crossed over his chest, and his long, wavy dark brown hair nearly obstructing the glare of his cat-like eyes. "We do not slut-shame in this house, Namjoonah!"

Namjoon clears his throat and feels embarrassed. "No, I know—that's not—fuck, I'm just nervous. I don't usually meet others with the intention of hooking up, and I wasn't thinking."

"You can always ask to see a record of their last test," Seokjin says softly. "And you should get tested, yourself."

"Wear a dong bag if you're worried," Yoongi adds, and Namjoon chuckles.

"Yeah. You're right. Sorry for slut-shaming, hyungs. I didn't mean to."

The hand that slapped Namjoon on the head pats his hair like one would pat a golden retriever for a job well done. Yoongi's voice is lower and more calming than before. "You're a good boy, Joonie."

"You can search for profiles that have 'condomsonly' tagged, too," Seokjin adds.

Namjoon nods and hums. He supposes that is true.

Namjoon's phone buzzes, and he finds a notification in his inbox. With a fortifying exhale, he thumbs over the inbox icon, only to find that someone named Jacks420 has sent a rather impressive but completely unsolicited dick pic. Namjoon quickly fumbles to shut off his screen, then tosses his phone to the table with a loud clatter and slams his eyes shut.

"This cannot—guys, I'm—I hate this. I hate this a lot."

Namjoon's friends chuckle—because, of course, they do—and he peels one eye open to gaze around and glare at them before slamming it back shut. "Glad this is so amusing to you two."

"Oh please," Seokjin says through soft laughter, "as if you've never seen a cock before."

"Yes, but I consented to seeing it!" Namjoon whines. "I didn't—he just—what the fuck!"

"Apps like this are no man's land," Yoongi quips. "No gods, no masters."

Namjoon rolls his eyes. "Great."

While setting up his account, Namjoon settled for a nice smile-to-chest shot, not giving too much of his identity away while still showing off the two assets people tend to mention most: his dimples and his "namtiddies," as his friends so lovingly say.

Notifications pour in, and Namjoon becomes substantially more anxious as his phone vibrates across his worn, brown table. With a sigh, Seokjin picks up Namjoon's phone and shoves it into his hand, and Namjoon reluctantly unlocks his screen, opening his inbox.

Every message is some variation of "Hi," or "Hey," or an image attachment that Namjoon decidedly does not open. He sighs and drops his arm down onto the sofa.

"This is pointless. I can't strike up a conversation from 'Hey.' What do they want from me?"

"You could take the initiative to find someone who seems interesting and do the conversation striking," Yoongi suggests.

As right as Yoongi is, Namjoon hates the thought of it, but he nods and lifts his phone once more, scrolling over the images. Supposedly everyone who appears at the top of the list is nearby, which Namjoon finds equal parts promising and horrifying.

"This one looks cute," Seokjin says as he leans into Namjoon's personal space and points to one of the many squares on the screen. Namjoon taps the image and opens the profile, only to immediately agree with Seokjin's assessment.

User JayKay97 is, in fact, very cute, showing off a smile that is both soft and sharp, and a neck and clavicle that appears to slope down into a toned chest and biceps. Not that Namjoon can really tell what this person looks like, but the hints are nice, and he finds himself wanting to see more.

On his profile, JayKay97 also has a mirror selfie that appears to be taken at a gym with a mask over his mouth. Although it is hard to see the top half of his face—which is conveniently hidden behind wavy, dark brown hair that hangs over his eyes—he can see the rest of JayKay97's arms and torso, flexing for the camera and showing off some very impressive muscles, and one arm covered in dark tattoos.

"Ooh, he works out," Yoongi grumbles over Namjoon's shoulder.

"You two could be gym buddies," Seokjin adds.

"Okay," Namjoon sighs, turning off his phone screen, tired of the two of them peeping in his ears. "Enough. You two have done quite enough, and I have some work to get done."

"Alright, alright," Seokjin responds with his hands raised, as if in surrender. "We get the hint; we'll fuck off. But if anything comes of this, you had better tell us."

"You know hyung loves to gloat," Yoongi mutters, mussing up Namjoon's hair with his hand. "And he will be taking credit for this if all goes well."

Namjoon leans forward to escape Yoongi's playfulness and stands from his brown leather couch, which creaks and groans beneath him. He meets them by the door and hugs them goodbye with a half-hearted wave to show them just how unenthusiastic he is about the entire ordeal.

Then, as soon as his front door is shut, Namjoon quickly unlocks his phone and rounds his couch, plopping himself down with a huff as he opens the app and stares at JayKay97's profile. Something about this guy really appeals to Namjoon, and he can't stop thinking about him—imagining what he should say to strike up a conversation. The gym JayKay97 goes to looks like the same gym Namjoon goes to, but he feels weird opening with that. So instead, he overthinks it until, eventually, he says nothing.

It is around 11 PM when Namjoon finally makes his way to bed. Since bidding his friends farewell and getting started on the work that he should have done hours earlier, he had gotten a lot of vapid messages and decided to disable notifications.

Now, with a deep sigh, Namjoon opens Grindr and navigates to his inbox. He nearly misses it in the sea of nonsense, and when he does see it, he gasps and does a double-take. A message from JayKay97 awaits him, and it was sent two hours earlier. Better still, it opens with more than just a single word, and there doesn't seem to be any photos attached.

JayKay97 Well, hello, BonsaiDaddy94. I love the username. I don't see a "daddykink" tag on your profile, though, so am I correct to assume that it is just a clever way to say you have a lot of plants?

Namjoon chuckles to himself and nibbles on the inside of his lip, turning onto his side as he stares at the screen. He wants to respond, but feels anxiety swirl around, making him dizzy and a bit nauseated.

On one hand, if they have nothing in common, he can just move on—no harm done. But on the other, he would feel pretty bummed if he shot his shot with someone as cute as JayKay97 seems to be, only to fuck it up. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes on the exhale, attempting to find some inner peace.

BonsaiDaddy94 Hey, JayKay97! I do happen to have a lot of plants. And I was just being clever. I suppose it's never too late to discover a new kink, though.

Immediately after hitting send, Namjoon feels embarrassed and mutters, "What am I doing," under his breath. He wonders if JayKay97 will read the message and think he is an idiot. He almost searches naver to find out whether or not one can delete a message that has been sent over Grindr, but then three little dots pop up, and Namjoon feels his heart pound in his chest with anticipation. As soon as a new message appears, Namjoon gasps and holds in his breath.

JayKay97 Wow, you're cute, aren't you? Do you work out, daddy? Do you mind if I call you daddy?

The breath that Namjoon had held in comes out as a scoff, and he reads the message three times, swallowing a lump in his throat as he decides what to say next. He hovers his thumbs over the keyboard, but the three dots pop back up.

JayKay97 By the way, I found you in fresh faces. Is this your first time on the app?

BonsaiDaddy94 This is my first time on the app. And you may call me daddy, though...I'm not sure what I would call you. Maybe I should have searched naver for daddy kink terms before responding.

BonsaiDaddy94 And yes, I do work out.

Namjoon tosses his phone to his bed and sinks low on his pillow, pulling the soft, dark comforter up to his chin. Everything about this feels ridiculous, and yet, he already likes talking to JayKay97. The guy seems charming and charismatic, and Namjoon likes that he leads the conversation.

Feeling antsy about having his notifications turned off, Namjoon reaches around for his phone, hitting his open palm against the mattress several times before finding the device and pulling it to his face. He opens the app to see two more messages from JayKay97, and he smiles hard.

JayKay97 Ooh, an app virgin. To what do I owe the pleasure? Are you here for hookups, or are you one of the many fools who come to this sordid place looking for a relationship?

JayKay97 Also, I suppose if you're daddy, I'm baby boy. Baby is fine, too.

One of the many fools who come to this sordid place looking for a relationship. Namjoon hates how the phrasing makes his heart sink—hates how he already feels a connection despite knowing absolutely nothing about this guy. Sure, his profile states weight, height, and body type, but someone could put anything into those fields; there is no guarantee of authenticity.

Namjoon nearly gives up and goes to bed, abandoning the conversation entirely. But then he decides to give honesty a chance. Worst case scenario, he remains as lonely as he already is.

BonsaiDaddy94 I'm not really sure why I am on here, tbh. My friends complain about how "terminally single" I am, (their words,) so three beers and a lot of peer pressure later, here I am. I guess part of me is foolish enough to want a relationship; I've never really done hookups. But I'm open to possibility.

BonsaiDaddy94 What about you, baby boy? What brings you here?

Namjoon types and deletes baby boy several times before deciding to keep it. If, in fact, there is a chance that JayKay97 will want to get to know him after this pathetic revelation, he figures being flirtatious will work in his favor. And as the three little dots pop back up, his anxiety swirls, once again.

JayKay97 I'm here to find a cutie to fuck. Plain and simple. But I guess I am not opposed to the idea of a relationship. Nobody on here really tries to get to know you like that, in my experience. In fact, this is probably the most I have talked to someone without them asking if I am willing to host.

At this, Namjoon feels a wave of disappointment. Of course, there is no reason to; he came to a hookup app and is now being told that the users are just here to look for hookups. So why does he feel let down?

BonsaiDaddy94 Ah. I guess that makes sense. Well, I won't waste your time if you're just looking for a quick fuck. Not that I'm not interested in you; I just like to get to know people a little better before getting to know them like that.

With a sigh, Namjoon drops his arm to the bed and stares at his ceiling. Since he has already jumped over the hurdle of downloading an app for meeting others, he reasons he will have no qualms with also downloading a proper dating app.

Tomorrow, he tells himself. He has already been through enough tonight.

Namjoon doesn't remember falling asleep, and he wakes up with his phone buzzing on his bed, pulling him from a somewhat restless slumber as the light that filters into his room causes him to squint. He has no obligations until the afternoon, but he likes to wake up every morning around 8 AM just to have a full day and not fall into a sad slump. Especially with winter arriving and the days becoming shorter, Namjoon needs to do everything he can to avoid seasonal depression.

Once he is all stretched and yawned out, Namjoon rolls out of bed, sits on the edge of the mattress, and grabs his phone. When he unlocks his screen, Grindr is open, and there are two more messages from JayKay97, sent twenty minutes apart.

JayKay97 Now, now, not so fast. I like your vibe, and if the rest of you is as attractive as your smile and chest, then getting to know you is not wasting my time. But just so we're clear: I will absolutely be trying to get into your pants.

JayKay97 I either scared you off or bored you to sleep. Either way, I hope you have a lovely night, daddy!

Namjoon sets his phone down and gets up to get dressed for the day, throwing on some ripped blue jeans and a burgundy polo. He makes his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and run a comb through his dark brown hair, tugging at strands as he marvels at how it has grown into a bit of a shaggy mullet. Then, he loads up his coffee machine, presses the start button, and returns to his room to retrieve his phone.

For a split moment, Namjoon wonders if it is uncustomary to message someone on Grindr before 9 AM, then decides to take the chance. He has already come this far, and he would hate for JayKay97 to think he was bored to sleep or scared off.

BonsaiDaddy94 Sorry for disappearing, baby boy. You neither scared me off nor bored me to sleep. I suppose I scared myself off? I thought my last message would solidify just how uncool I am to a seasoned Grindr vet such as yourself.

Moments pass as Namjoon stares at the wall ahead, wondering if he is making a mistake. There is more he wants to say to JayKay97—a flirtatious tone that he would like to return. As the coffee machine in the kitchen makes a gurgling sound indicating that it has finished brewing, Namjoon sighs and sends off one more message—

BonsaiDaddy94 Perhaps your disclaimer should scare me away since I am very much still nervous to dip my toe into these waters, but I find myself intrigued by you. And, I would be lying if I said I didn't find your mouth and chest very attractive.

—before abandoning his phone for a fresh cup of coffee and the morning news.

Namjoon knits his brow and cocks his head at Yoongi, whose brow is knit and whose head is cocked. Judging from his expression, there seems to be something that Yoongi finds suspicious, which Namjoon finds obnoxious, and they stare at one another before Namjoon shrugs, and Yoongi shakes his head.

"I don't know, man, you seem...happy." There's an air of disgust in Yoongi's voice that makes Namjoon laugh.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, hyung. I'll reel it in."

"You already met someone, haven't you?" Yoongi says with wide eyes as if he has just unlocked one of the universe's greatest secrets. "Oh my god, the slut-shamer becomes the slut!"

Namjoon clears his throat and glances around, happy to see that there is nobody within earshot of their park bench. It is still late morning, when children are in school, which is why they have chosen this time for their daily walk to get fresh air and pretend that they are well-adjusted adult men whose mental well-beings aren't being crushed more and more with each new leaf that falls, yellow, from the trees, welcoming the crushing cold of winter's approach.

"I have begun to talk to someone," Namjoon admits, voice low as if he is committing a crime. "But we have only chatted some. We haven't even exchanged pics."

"Exchanged pics?" Yoongi parrots, drawing out each word as if they are spoken in some foreign tongue he cannot fathom. He waves his hand in circles, giving up on this matter, and says, "And? Go on."

Namjoon shrugs. "That's all. I haven't checked my messages in a few hours, so I'm not sure where the conversation might be heading. But I admitted to wanting to get to know someone a little before hooking up, and he stated rather brazenly that he is fine with that, but plans to get into my pants. So...things are looking up, I guess."

The grin that tugs on Yoongi's lips sends a chill down Namjoon's spine, forcing him to adjust in his seat; nothing good can come from Yoongi grinning. He pulls out his phone and begins to type, biting his lip, then returns his gaze to Namjoon and says, "Jinnie-hyung is going to be over the fucking moon. Is it the one guy with the gym photo? I'm willing to bet five thousand won it is."

Namjoon clears his throat and smiles sheepishly, regretting his choice to bring it up in the first place. Meanwhile, Yoongi wiggles in his seat as he types away on his phone, presumably to Seokjin. Namjoon is never going to hear the end of this.

JayKay97 A seasoned Grindr vet? What gave it away?

JayKay97 Should we exchange photos? Would that make you too uncomfortable? I figure that, if we are going to take things a little slower and get to know each other a bit better, we should at least find out what the other is working with in case one of us is shallow enough to change our mind.

BonsaiDaddy94 There were a few tells that suggested to me that you're a vet. You have a confidence that I feel comes from practiced usage of a hookup app. And you sent more than one word as a greeting, suggesting you are used to—and likely sick of—the boring one-message greetings. Also, something you said seemed like it was probably app lingo…I believe you said "host."

JayKay97 I'm impressed. You are correct; I am a veteran on this app. I have used it to hook up with several men over the past few months—practicing safe sex each time. Does that bother you?

Namjoon remembers his conversation with Yoongi and Seokjin and chuckles to himself. In this house, we do not slut-shame.

BonsaiDaddy94 It does not bother me.

JayKay97 Wonderful. Shall we exchange photos?

With nervous thumbs, Namjoon opens Instagram and searches his grid for a photo to send to JayKay97. He wants to find one where he looks attractive without being too revealing or flattering—an example of a more casual look that, should they actually date, he would most likely be seen sporting.

BonsaiDaddy94 [Photo attachment of Namjoon wearing a black beanie with his dark hair sticking out from the back, curling slightly on the ends. He has on a light blue button-up baseball jersey, tan khaki pants, and black and white Nike sneakers. His hands are at his chest, palms open and waving, his dark brown eyes are wide and happy, and his mouth is closed but upturned into a smile, which shows his dimples slightly. Next to him is artist Takashi Murakami, and behind him is one of Murakami's art installations.]

As Namjoon gets seated at his desk and logs in to check his email for the evening, his phone lights up. He has since enabled Grindr notifications in the hopes that the thrill of knowing when JayKay97 responds will offset the annoyance of getting messages from others. Luckily, since the first night, the messages have begun to slow substantially. When Namjoon glances at his notification, he is pleased to see it is, in fact, from the man he wishes to hear from.

JayKay97 Um. Daddy. Wow. You are handsome as fuck. I am definitely going to continue to shoot my shot.

BonsaiDaddy94 Flattered ;)

Despite his very outdated and not-at-all cool emoticon-laden response, Namjoon's heart pounds heavily in his chest. Sure, he had been flirted with before, but the photo he sent is one that he hardly considers flattering, and to receive such a thirsty response is quite exhilarating.

The three dots pop up, but rather than receiving text, Namjoon watches as a photo pops up on the screen. His breath hitches, his palms immediately begin to sweat, and Namjoon mutters, "Holy shit," as he lifts his phone to get a better look.

JayKay97 [Photo attachment of JayKay97 that is clearly a selfie taken at a slightly high angle, pointing downward at his face and chest. His dark brown hair is coiffed off his forehead with the exception of a swoop of bangs that hangs over an eyebrow, and the back of his hair peeks out just below his ear—which is adorned with several silver studs. His eyes are wide, dark brown, and gazing slightly off to the side, suggesting that he is looking at his reflection rather than into the camera, and his expression is blank—lips closed with a silver ring through the bottom one, on the side. He wears a long silver chain over a long-sleeve black shirt, and his body is at a slight angle away from the phone.]

JayKay97 I got too impatient to find a photo and shot this selca now. I can send a full-body pic, though, if you prefer.

Namjoon blinks a few times in an attempt to get his brain to boot back up, as he stares at the photo a little longer. JayKay97 is pretty. The kind of pretty that Namjoon finds intimidating. The kind of pretty that he is certain he might do anything for.

BonsaiDaddy94 I'm sorry, my brain has logged off, and I am currently incapable of coherent thought.

JayKay97 Hmm, that message was pretty coherent, but...whatever you say, daddy.

BonsaiDaddy94 You are...dangerously pretty.

Immediately, Namjoon closes his eyes and curses himself for writing that. He scolds himself with a shake of his head and wonders how hard it would be to pack up and move far away from this city to prevent ever having to run into the dangerously pretty man to whom he continues to send embarrassing words.

But then, Namjoon's phone buzzes, and he opens his eyes quickly, eager to read the man's response.

JayKay97 Is that so?

BonsaiDaddy94 I'm embarrassed. Let's pretend I never sent those words.

JayKay97 Not so fast, daddy. I called you handsome as fuck, remember? Elaborate on what's so dangerous.

BonsaiDaddy94 I blurted it out without thinking. Just pretend it never happened.

JayKay97 Your thumbs blurted it out and then pressed send without your eyes noticing? Interesting.

Namjoon sighs and sits back in his leather desk chair with a huff, making it sway slightly from the movement. He enjoys the playful banter with JayKay97 a lot, but he knows he should focus on work instead of chatting so much. He decides to swallow his nervousness and be daring.

BonsaiDaddy94 Don't play coy, baby boy. You must know exactly what I am talking about.

BonsaiDaddy94 But perhaps you would like to discuss it over drinks, instead? Sometime this weekend? My name is Namjoon, by the way.

With the way Namjoon's heart pounds, he could have completed running in a marathon, having just crossed the finish line moments ago. He sets his phone down, but it buzzes immediately, and Namjoon picks it up and smiles at his notification, feeling a swell of excitement burst and bloom in his chest.

JayKay97 Nice to meet you, Namjoon (though, I still like daddy.) I'm Jeongguk (but you can call me baby boy.) Drinks this weekend sound perfect. [Phone number attached.]

“You what?” Yoongi shouts over his pint of beer.

Namjoon ducks his head down, feeling warmth rise up his neck and cheeks. Despite being in a loud pub, he feels anxious about being overheard.

“We haven’t actually made a plan, it’s just tentative. I haven’t sent him a text since he's given me his number, yet. I was going to after work but then you two dragged me out.”

“Text him now!” Seokjin eagerly supplies.

Rather than respond in protest, Namjoon opens his mouth and groans out a long, shaky vowel. He supposed he could text Jeongguk now—nothing is stopping him. And it’s not as if the others will allow him to change the topic until he does.

“Have the two of you exchanged pics yet?” Yoongi asks, using his fingers to indicate quotation marks around the emphasized words.

Namjoon nods and hums, causing both men to jump from their barstools. As if to protect his precious sanity—or what is left of it—Namjoon hugs his phone close to his chest and shakes his head. He has not saved Jeongguk’s photo because it feels like a weird thing to do, and he absolutely does not want the two of them to have access to their chat.

“Is he hot?” Yoongi grumbles with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

All Namjoon can do is scoff and nod, muttering, “Very.”

“Yoongi told me it’s the guy with the gym pic,” Seokjin says, leaning forward with his chin on his hands, elbows on the table.

“I never confirmed—“ Namjoon begins, but Yoongi waves him off.

“Didn’t have to; I saw the look.”

Curse Yoongi and his powers of observation. He has always been able to read Namjoon like a book.

“Text him,” Seokjin urges over his nearly empty beer glass. “Don’t let us stop you.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow and drinks from his just-as-empty glass. With a sigh, Namjoon unlocks his phone, opens Grindr, and copies the number Jeongguk sent over. A glance at his friends shows they’re intently watching him, making him chuckle as he opens his text messaging app and pastes the number into a blank message.

“What are you gonna say to him?” Seokjin asks, leaning over the table.

Namjoon takes a step backward and shakes his head, guarding his precious phone with his life. Then, he takes a deep breath and begins to type.

Namjoon Hey, Jeongguk! It’s Namjoon. Sorry for not messaging sooner. I hope your day has been going well.

“There,” Namjoon says as he sets his phone down with both hands shielding it from his friends. “I sent a message. Can we drop it, now?”

Yoongi shrugs and chugs back the last of his pint, but Seokjin seems unconvinced.

“I want to see the photos you exchanged.”

With a sigh, Namjoon concedes, unlocking his screen and opening Grindr. “I sent the shot of me with Murakami,” he says as he thumbs to their messages and finds the selfie Jeongguk sent. It gives him pause—makes the air in the room shift. He can’t help but stare.

“You sent him a frumpy pic?” Yoongi snickers. “Bold move.”

“I didn’t want to send something too hot,” Namjoon mutters defensively. “What if he thinks that’s all I have to offer? Being hot is something I only have the energy for a few times a month, at best. And anyway, he called me handsome.”

"That's because you are handsome," Seokjin interjects, always ready to come to the defense of any of his friends who have the audacity to downplay their wealth. "Yoongi may call you frumpy, but we all know that for you, frumpy is still an 8.5 out of 10."

Namjoon continues to stare at Jeongguk’s photo while they talk. He wonders what his voice sounds like, how tall he is—wonders what kinds of food he likes to eat and what kinds of things he does for fun. He supposes he could ask, but it feels like so much pressure.

Seokjin clears his throat, making Namjoon jump, then Namjoon tilts his phone toward Seokjin, holding tightly as he attempts to grab it. Seokjin huffs and leans in, crowding Namjoon’s space, and Yoongi rounds the table and appears between them, craning his neck to get a look.

“Wow,” Yoongi says, and Seokjin responds with an emphatic, “Mmhmm!”

“Yes?” Namjoon asks, amused by their reactions.

“He’s very pretty.”

“Super pretty.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says quietly, smiling to himself.

“He has his lip pierced,” Seokjin muses, to which Yoongi grumbles something Namjoon doesn’t catch. He is too busy thinking back to their chat and how flirty it became toward the end. He hopes the several hours of radio silence hasn’t scared Jeongguk away.

As if on cue, Namjoon’s phone vibrates, and before he can retract it and check the notification, Seokjin grabs onto his wrist and stares at the phone with wide eyes.

“Handsome daddy?” Seokjin huffs, amused.

“Wait,” Yoongi mutters, getting onto his toes to get a closer look, “did someone just call our Namjoonah daddy?”

Namjoon clears his throat and tugs his phone away. His ears must be beet red, and he looks off to the side—anywhere but at his friends.

“It’s an inside joke.”

“An inside joke?” Yoongi chides.

“My username is bonsaidaddy94, and he thought it would be cute to—“

“Oh, it’s extremely cute,” Yoongi interrupts, “but what do you call him?”

Having had enough of the conversation, Namjoon turns to the side and opens his messages. Sure enough, there’s a response from Jeongguk.

Jeongguk There’s my handsome daddy. I was worried you had forgotten about me. ):

Handsome daddy. Namjoon knows it is foolish to let the silly nickname affect him, but it does—it affects him quite a bit. What will become of him should Jeongguk choose to use the nickname in person? Will Namjoon live to tell the tale?

Seokjin clears his throat and raises an eyebrow. “We need shots and another pint. You,” he directs at Namjoon, “hold the fort down and continue your conversation. I need details once we return. All of them.”

Once Seokjin and Yoongi walk off, Namjoon leans on his elbow against the sticky bar table and nervously thumbs a response.

Namjoon How could I forget someone as pretty as you, baby boy? Unfortunately, I was just working. And then my friends drug me out to a pub, where I have been asked a million questions about you.

Jeongguk You're still at the pub now?

Namjoon I am...

Jeongguk Interesting.

Namjoon What is interesting?

Jeongguk Grindr says you're only 300 ft away. I bet if I wanted to, I could figure out which pub you're at.

Namjoon shifts in place and looks over his shoulder despite knowing that, realistically, there is no way Jeongguk would be able to suddenly appear behind him. The prospect of being located by a hookup app's GPS is so nerve wracking, despite the small inkling of Namjoon wanting Jeongguk to come find him.

Namjoon Ooh, stalking before the first date? Now that is a surefire way to get into my pants, baby boy.

Jeongguk What a shame I'm too nervous to come meet you and your friends all at once. I guess I'll have to leave the stalking for another time.

The idea of Jeongguk being nervous is something Namjoon can't help but find interesting. Of course, it is only natural to feel nerves when meeting anyone for the first time, but if Jeongguk's main mission is to get into Namjoon's pants, surely he would have no qualms with meeting Namjoon's best friends. Unless Jeongguk banks on possibly seeing them more than once.

Perhaps, Namjoon thinks, he is reading into it too much. It is quite a different thing to be assertive over text and assertive in person. Maybe dangerously pretty Jeongguk, who instantly took to calling Namjoon daddy, is actually shy. The idea makes Namjoon swoon.

Namjoon My baby boy is shy? I never would have guessed.

Seokjin and Yoongi return with a tray full of alcohol, and Namjoon nods noncommittally at them before turning his attention back to his phone. Drinks are placed in front of him, and he absent-mindedly picks up a pint of beer, nearly spilling it on himself as he raises the glass to take a sip.

Jeongguk Why? Because I'm promiscuous?

Jeongguk's message gives Namjoon pause, and he stops moving his drink closer to his lips, hovering the glass just inches away. Suddenly, Namjoon feels a crushing weight on his chest and back, squeezing the air out of him. The last thing Namjoon would want Jeongguk to think is that he is judging him.

It does not help that Namjoon's mind goes completely blank as he stares at his phone in an attempt to think of anything to say. Yoongi approaches and gently takes the beer from Namjoon and sets it on the table, then softly rubs a hand over the small of Namjoon's back. Namjoon blinks rapidly and clears his throat, then lifts his idle hand to his phone—this matter requires two thumbs to navigate.

Namjoon Because you're assertive, forward, and quite flirtatious.

Despite having sent his message mere seconds ago, Namjoon considers more that he could say—that he should say. However, a message comes in before he gets a chance, and it throws him off.

Jeongguk So, what have your friends been asking about me? Are they the friends who peer-pressured you into downloading the app?

Now, Namjoon cannot figure out whether Jeongguk was joking before or if he is simply deflecting after what Namjoon said. He wishes he knew the man better so that he would not have to worry about saying the wrong thing over text—a medium that can be hard to read the tone behind. For now, he decides to roll with it. They can always discuss the topic in person.

Namjoon The very same friends, yes. They more or less begged me to show them your photo. I hope it's okay that I did. And they have been trying to get to know what kind of person you are, but I am trying to save what little I know about you for myself before giving all the goods away to them.

"So...is everything alright?" Yoongi asks from Namjoon's right. His hand has stopped rubbing circles against Namjoon's back.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Everything is fine. I was just sidetracked by something."

"Okay."

Jeongguk That's cute of them. You're right that we know so little about one another. We should fix that. What do you do for a living, daddy?

Namjoon can't help but chuckle at how forward and cute Jeongguk is. He glances up from his phone long enough to grab his beer, this time taking a nice big gulp of it. Then he sets it down and goes back to typing.

Namjoon I work as a museum and gallery curator. Mostly, I help acquire artwork, store it, show it. I also do guest curation for exhibits in the United States. The photo I sent you is of myself and Takashi Murakami.

Jeongguk Oh, shit, I was so busy looking at you, I didn't even notice his art behind you. That's really fucking cool. I'm impressed, daddy.

"Encouraging him to message the boy was a mistake," Yoongi mutters, to which Namjoon hums and looks up at his friend with an attentive expression. Both men have their heads cocked to the side, and Yoongi is shaking his head. "We were going to do shots, remember?"

"Oh! Right," Namjoon says as he sets his phone down on the sticky table and turns his attention to his hyungs. Seokjin scoots a small glass of clear liquid toward Namjoon, and they all three lift their glasses to the center of the table.

"To Namjoon finally getting laid," Seokjin snickers.

"And to us losing him completely in the process," Yoongi adds.

Namjoon rolls his eyes but meets their shots with his, then turns his head as he gulps back soju. The taste is bittersweet, and the liquid is slightly too cold for comfort. Seokjin takes the liberty of pouring more shots while Namjoon lifts up his phone. He never responded to Jeongguk.

Namjoon Art is definitely my passion, but as someone who has no talent for making it, I stick to turning my appreciation into something I can market. What about you, baby boy? What do you do?

"After these drinks, we're going to call it a night," Yoongi announces. Namjoon turns and raises an eyebrow as he continues. "So you'd better hang out with us before we go."

At this, Namjoon rolls his eyes and pockets his phone. He can handle some time without it—he has done it before.

Or, so he thought.

Namjoon is mid-reaching for his beer when his phone vibrates in his pocket. The urge to pull it out and check the notification is enough to make his hand twitch, but he does his best to stay present with his friends.

They discuss how work has been and what plans they have for the weekend, but all that does is make Namjoon think about how he and Jeongguk still haven't made a solid plan for a first date.

He does his best to participate in the conversation, but his mind drifts. He wonders whether Jeongguk would like to see one of his latest exhibits or if he is more of a bar-on-the-first-date type. Maybe he will want to go out to a restaurant or go to Namjoon's place to cook something together.

The phone in Namjoon’s pocket buzzes, pulling him from his thoughts, and he once again begins to reach for it before remembering his silent promise to his friends. His friends, who are tipsy and in their own world, gazing at one another with stars in their eyes.

Ordinarily, Namjoon would groan and down his drink, whining that this is exactly why hanging out with the two of them is frustrating—that their love is just a big, heavy reminder of how lonely he is. But tonight, he doesn’t mind. His thoughts are so clouded by a pretty boy with a lip ring and big, round eyes. His friends can be gross all they want.

“Shots!” Seokjin calls, and shots they have. And again, and again.

They sing too loudly to some ballads Yoongi selects on the jukebox and finish their beers. And, just as Yoongi promised, once their glasses are empty, they begin their goodbyes and leave for the night—Namjoon getting a cab home, and Yoongi bickering about how well he can drive drunk while Seokjin calls a cab for the two of them, ignoring him. This is a dance the two of them play often, and in the morning, one of them will bus over to retrieve their car; they usually play scissors, rock, paper to determine who goes.

Namjoon clambers into the backseat of the cab and, while the dome lights are still on, he snaps a selfie. He had changed into a white button-up and applied some makeup before going to the museum earlier in the evening to meet with one of the directors, and tonight, he is feeling himself, as the kids say.

Once his phone is unlocked, Namjoon is happy to find a response from Jeongguk but disappointed that there is only one message from him, despite the two vibrations he had felt at the bar. The other message comes from Grindr, and Namjoon opens it out of curiosity.

TaeTae That smile is too sweet for an app like this. But with daddy in the name…you’re sending mixed signals, babe. You intrigue me. Are you a wine-and-dine type?

Namjoon’s heart begins to race. Most of the men on the app have their faces somehow obstructed so that they are difficult to identify, but TaeTae has his face showing, for all the world to see, and he is breathtaking.

With eyes and lips that slope in a soft but almost sad way, despite his rectangular smile, TaeTae is the kind of man artists and poets use as a muse. How deadly, in combination with the slightly whimsical way in which he writes.

BonsaiDaddy94 Is it that obvious that the hookup app isn’t quite my scene? I am the wine-and-dine type. And you?

Namjoon types and sends without giving it much thought. And then he remembers Jeongguk, and his stomach sinks. Of course, Namjoon has done nothing wrong by responding to a message—he assumes Jeongguk is also continuing to message others—but he feels guilty for checking this other man’s message first.

Jeongguk I work part-time as a model while I finish my degree in photography. Seems you and I have similar interests, daddy. (;

Namjoon Seems we do. What kind of modeling do you do?

Jeongguk He lives. D: I thought I had lost you! How are your friends? Will you be out long?

Namjoon Friends are good! They were complaining that I was ignoring them, so I put my phone away. I'm taking a cab home now.

Without allowing himself to second guess, Namjoon sends Jeongguk the selfie he snapped moments ago.

Namjoon [Photo attachment of Namjoon’s face from a straightforward angle. His head is slightly tilted to the side with his jaw resting on his hand, elbow presumably on the car door off-screen. Namjoon doesn’t smile, his parted bangs fall over his forehead, styled neatly but simply, and he has a faint dusting of eyeshadow. There is a small silver hoop in his ear, and the top button of his white button-up is undone.]

Jeongguk Excuse me??? Daddy!!!

Namjoon smiles wide and lets himself revel in Jeongguk’s simple but emphatic reaction.

Namjoon Yes, baby boy?

Jeongguk You’re. You. Your. Makeup???

Namjoon I wear makeup to work, sometimes, yes. I clean up well, huh?

Jeongguk I’m howling and barking like a dog right now; I hope you know that.

Namjoon I’m flattered. ;)

And this time, he really is flattered. This time, Jeongguk’s response feels earned, and it feels good.

Jeongguk Are you sure you don’t do hookups? I don’t live far from that pub. Or we can snuggle, whatever you’re into. I just need my hands on you holy fuck.

Namjoon actually considers it. He’s intoxicated from the alcohol and high on Jeongguk’s praises, and he almost asks for the address. But he wants to stick to his guns and take Jeongguk on a proper date first. Or, at least, make an attempt to.

Namjoon Snuggling does sound nice, but I have an early morning tomorrow, and I am a bit more drunk than I hoped to get tonight. We should solidify a date for this weekend. I’m free tomorrow evening, Saturday, and Sunday, if something works for you.

The cab pulls up to Namjoon’s place, and he clambers out with a thank you, having already paid for the ride with his phone. His phone buzzes, and he smiles as he fishes out his keys to unlock his apartment building. Through the lobby, on his way to the elevator, Namjoon sneaks a glance at his phone, and immediately, he feels overwhelmed by the sudden surge of attractive men messaging him—two feels like a lot, compared to none.

TaeTae I’m busy this weekend, but we should grab dinner and chat Monday if you’re free. I want to know more about this bonsai daddy with pretty lips and deep dimples.

All Namjoon can do is chuckle. He feels like he has entered some new dimension where, suddenly, he is being perceived. Not that people don’t notice Namjoon in his day-to-day life, but nobody is so brazen in their attempts to get to know him.

As he exits the elevator and makes his way to his apartment door, he mulls it over. This TaeTae guy seems nice, but Namjoon really likes Jeongguk. Not to mention, juggling two men at once seems overwhelming.

BonsaiDaddy94 I’m flattered, and I do have some free time on Monday evening, but I am curious what your intentions are. I’m not really into hookups, so I don’t want to disappoint you.

Namjoon keys in the code for his apartment door and slips in, letting the door close behind him. While unbuttoning his shirt, he toes out of his shoes, and, by the time he walks through his living room, past his kitchen, and into his bathroom, his shirt is open and untucked and he is undoing his belt—running on autopilot and ready to go to bed.

He brushes his teeth, wipes the makeup from his face, and moisturizes in slow, lazy movements. Suddenly, the weight of the day, mixed with the newfound excitement, has him feeling heavy and worn out.

Although they hardly know one another, Namjoon wishes Jeongguk would respond so they could make a plan. It has been a long time since Namjoon has actually wanted to get to know another person—to schedule someone into his life and make time for them. Instead, his phone vibrates with enthusiasm from another.

TaeTae My intentions include whatever you’re comfortable with, of course. The idea of wining and dining you with the promise of your body as dessert does entice me to no end, but if you like to take things slow, I am happy to oblige.

Rather than respond, Namjoon undresses and climbs into bed, beneath his forest green comforter, which he pulls up to his chin. He exhales slowly and closes his eyes, and he wonders to himself just what the fuck he should do. Despite the rules he has always had in place for himself, he desperately wants to get laid. Picturing dangerously pretty Jeongguk and breathtaking TaeTae doesn’t help.

And he knows he shouldn’t respond to the Grindr message, but he feels a buzz from the back and forth that they have established, and he finds he can’t help himself.

BonsaiDaddy94 I do prefer to take things slow. Although…perhaps my body will persuade my mind to let go for one night. I am equally intrigued by you, and the sweeter you talk, the more I find my walls beginning to crumble.

When Namjoon wakes up, he has a headache. This is the first indication that he got too drunk the night before and may have said or done something regretful. As he stretches and yawns, he thinks about his conversation with Jeongguk—how he boldly sent a selfie and attempted to make a plan.

And then he thinks about his conversation with the other guy, and his heart jumps into his throat.

“Oh, fuck,” Namjoon mutters as he frantically searches his bed for his phone. For once, he must have had the wherewithal to plug it in, and he spins, twisting himself in his comforter, to find it sitting on his nightstand with one message from Jeongguk and two from his new friend.

Jeongguk I would like to see you as soon as possible, so how does tomorrow sound?

Namjoon Good morning, pretty! Tonight sounds perfect. Are you a dinner and drinks kind of guy? Would you like to see one of the galleries I’ve curated? I’m very flexible.

Jeongguk Flexible, hmm? (; Dinner and drinks sound great, but rather than someplace fancy, do you like noodles? There’s a hole-in-the-wall noodle spot near the pub I nearly stalked you at. Is that something you would be into? Not that I'm not into the idea of going to see art, but I may have a problem keeping my eyes off you, and I don't want to waste such a lovely experience.

Namjoon If you’re asking whether I would be interested in meeting you over the best bowl of udon I have ever had, the answer is an emphatic yes. I work from home today, and I should be done around 4, so any time after then is good for me.

Jeongguk You know the spot! Perfect. How does 6 sound?

Finally, a plan for a date has been solidified. Namjoon feels so excited, he rolls onto his back, stares at his ceiling, and smiles. He also wants to meet Jeongguk as soon as possible and is thrilled that the feeling is mutual.

Namjoon Perfect. See you at 6!

It is past noon when Namjoon realizes he never read or responded to the messages from his Grindr friend. With a date in motion with Jeongguk, he almost feels inclined not to acknowledge him. Namjoon can’t remember what they chatted about just before he knocked out, and he isn’t sure he wants to.

But then, in the depths of his mind, he recalls possibly setting up a date with the other guy, and for the second time in a span of four hours, he panics.

“The sweeter you talk, the more I feel my walls beginning to crumble,” Namjoon recites as he reads over his last sent message. “Oh, what the fuck?”

He feels so embarrassed he considers deleting the app from his phone and never looking back. Luckily, his new Grindr friend seems to be taking it in stride.

TaeTae My sweet bonsai father, you are kind and adorable, but I would rather go at the pace you prefer, so, no need to make lofty professions of desire. Should we be so lucky as to fuck, then we shall fuck. But I will be delighted no matter how much or how little I get to have of you.

The second message came nearly an hour later.

TaeTae By the way, you can call me Taehyung.

Taehyung. Namjoon likes the name and is instantly reminded of his pretty, sad smile. Both Jeongguk and Taehyung seem so different in personality, but also similar in the way they initiate conversation and steer it effortlessly. He almost wishes one of them was more boring or annoying than the other so he wouldn't feel so overwhelmed with the task of getting to know them both. But there is a part of him that really wants to get to know them both.

BonsaiDaddy94 Nice to meet you, Taehyung. I'm Namjoon. Bonsai father is a fitting name, too, though. I would hate to stifle your creativity with something as bland as a given name.

Namjoon reads over his cheeky response, feeling pleased with himself. There is a whimsy to Taehyung that makes Namjoon's inner award-winning poet want to come out to play. When three dots pop up, indicating that Taehyung is writing a response, Namjoon feels eager.

TaeTae You are positively splendid, Namjoon. I wonder what it is you do for a living—how you spend your time? What kind of company do you keep? What color is your favorite comforter? Do you really father a bonsai? Does it blossom? Would you like to move this conversation over to text, or does this hookup app, as you call it, suffice? (Just in case...[phone number attached.])

Suddenly, Namjoon feels like he is drowning, but not in an unpleasant way. He is underwater, gazing up at the light reflecting from the sun—beams of sunshine breaking the surface while dots of light and shadow dance and sway atop the gentle waves. He wants to surface—knows he must eventually come up for air and make a choice—but for now, he enjoys the weightlessness of opening up to and flirting with two men who, as of this moment, only live inside his phone.

Namjoon saves Taehyung's number to his contact list, glances at his computer to remind himself that he does actually have responsibilities to take care of for the day, then responds to Taehyung, anyway.

Namjoon Hello, Taehyung. It's Namjoon. As much as I love the blocky, uninviting vibe of the hookup app, this is much more pleasant. To answer your questions: I am a published poet, but I don't much enjoy the pressures of having to produce, simply to make a living, so I work as a museum curator. I spend a lot of my time around art and thinking about art (and talking about art.) My friends are grumpy and quiet, or enthusiastic and loud; a little over the top sometimes, but always respectful and caring. Works of art, in their own regard. My favorite comforter is forest green, and I do father two bonsai. One blossoms every few months, and it makes my heart swell with affection every time. And now I have sent you a novella, wow. Sorry?

Everything feels light and heavy at the same time as Namjoon sets his phone down and attempts to get some work done. And he is successful for a solid hour until his phone vibrates again, and he instantly picks it up to read the message. Luckily, he has already caught up on his emails and has set meetings with several artists he would like to host for upcoming exhibits, so he has a little time to breathe before deciding which item to check from his to-do list next.

Taehyung Namjoon, darling. My god, you are perfection personified. I am foaming at the mouth. Poet and museum curator? I'm a photographer! Small potatoes, for now; I mostly dress my roommate up in our friend's latest fashions and make him pose. I also do landscapes and nature shots to make money here and there, but I have been considering the next steps for really breaking out and making a name for myself. I won't burden you with that, though; you are welcome to see my work, but I do not want you to think that I am using you to get to your power and influence. (So fucking hot that you have power and influence, though, ugh.) And now it is I sending the novella. I refuse to apologize, and so should you.

Taehyung PS. I still haven't seen all of your face. No rush, no pressure. But I am curious. I would be happy to send a bespoke selca just for you in return.

At this moment in time, Namjoon feels at a crossroads, and he wheels himself away from his desk and stands—tall and flexed, for some indiscernible reason, as if steeling himself for battle. Something about Taehyung makes him want to be playful, and he feels dramatic—he wants to lean into the feeling a little.

But he also wants to be straightforward and honest, so he paces around his home office—a small room with a considerably large window that overlooks a narrow street, full from wall to ceiling with art, photos, and other things he enjoys—and he stares at his phone in his hands, deciding what he should do. Taehyung needs to know that he has a date tonight, and that he is unsure about his plans and feelings, overall.

Namjoon I would be happy to both send and receive a selca, but first I think it would be fair to tell you that I have a date tonight with someone, and I am still uncertain about my feelings and intentions with that person. I am trying to stay open to possibilities, hence chatting with you, but I also don't want to lead you on or make you feel deceived.

Despite feeling confident in his diplomacy, Namjoon is worried and continues to pace. Juggling two attractive, interesting men is such a foreign concept to Namjoon, he considers deleting the Grindr app in an effort to save himself the trouble of possibly liking a third person.

Namjoon nearly sits back down at his desk when his phone buzzes, and he feels himself gasp with anticipation. He paces one last time, then takes a seat in his leather computer chair and leans forward with his elbows on his knees as he opens Taehyung's message.

Taehyung You are the sweetest; I could literally die. I hope you enjoy your date tonight and that it is everything you wish for and more! I, too, have a date tonight, but I am out of town for work, so it's more like a hookup. Don't worry; I practice safely and am very discrete (not that I get the vibe that you're judgmental, but since I am pursuing you, I feel you deserve to know.) Should you fall in love during your date, I will have no hard feelings, just let me know, so I'm not left out in the rain, okay?

Namjoon I'm so not used to dating that all of this feels strange but cathartic to talk to someone about. Usually, I meet someone from work—or school, when I was still in school—and then we go from there, exclusive from the jump. App dating is so much different. I think the laid-back nature of it all is as much of a relief as it is terrifying.

Taehyung Sometimes app dating is the opposite of laid-back. But I am laid-back by nature, so you are safe with me. While I find drama to be fascinating and exhilarating at times, I simply do not have the energy.

Namjoon Relatable.

Taehyung Oooh! If you'd like to make my selca wish come true, perhaps you can send me what you plan to wear to the date. Or would that be too weird? I'll do the same; we can compare notes.

The idea of comparing date outfits with someone who Namjoon also has tentative plans to go on a date with feels strange. It also feels delightful, and he accepts. And then, he makes a valiant attempt to get back to work.

The minute 4 PM rolls around, Namjoon is out of his chair and getting into the shower. Yoongi has already attempted to get him to hang out with him, and for once, didn't put up a fight when Namjoon declined. He must be happy that his friend has a date—which, Namjoon thinks, he should be happy about, since all of this was partially his fault, to begin with.

Namjoon showers quickly, then towels off while preemptively stressing about what to wear. They are going to a noodle spot, and he doesn't want to wear something that might risk getting messy, so he decides on black. Namjoon styles his hair simply with his bangs parted and his hair nicely combed. He doesn't add any product, save for a bit of creme to keep any flyaways at bay, and he puts on a nice, simple black long-sleeve tee, tucked into black slacks, with a nice black leather belt.

It is approximately 5:30 PM by the time Namjoon has finished pacing around anxiously, deciding on whether to wear any jewelry and stressing over which denim jacket to bring. He settles on the same small silver hoops he has been wearing lately, which he has left on a wooden tray in the bathroom—a catchall for things he doesn't want to shower with.

Before making his way to gather them, however, he remembers his agreement with Taehyung and snaps a selfie for him. He sits at his desk, opts to make a peace sign, and purses his lips, with the camera slightly to the side and the photo capturing more of one side of his face than the other. Without giving it too much thought—because he will second guess it to death and decide against it if he allows himself to—he sends it off to Taehyung.

It takes approximately twenty seconds for him to receive a response. Namjoon opens his messenger, and immediately, his jaw drops to the floor.

Taehyung [Photo attached of Taehyung standing in front of a mirror with his phone held in front of half of his face. The half that is in view is relaxed—no smile, but no frown—and he appears to be looking into the phone screen rather than into the mirror. His hair is wavy and fluffy, falling over his forehead and sticking out from under his ears in the back. Around his neck are several short, thin necklaces, including one that appears to be a string of pearls. He wears a cornflower blue button-up shirt, powder blue slacks, and a white leather belt. The shirt is unbuttoned and untucked, hanging open to reveal a generous strip of skin from his neck, to his belly button, to his hips.]

Taehyung Namjoon, bonsai father, darling. You are stunning. I hope it's not too rude to say your lips *do things* to me.

Namjoon hardly has a chance to respond to Taehyung's text, still reeling from his photo. The glimpse of skin beneath the pretty blues—he is the one who is stunning. Namjoon shifts in his chair, clears his throat, and stands. He has to get moving if he wants to meet Jeongguk on time, so he leaves his office, shuts off the light, and makes his way to the living room, all while staring at his phone. What does he even say in response to everything that has just inundated his vision?

Finally, after slipping into some black chelsea boots and patting down his pants to ensure he has his wallet and keys, he lifts his phone to respond.

Namjoon You left me speechless. I'm stunning? I'm afraid you are the one who is stunning. Your...everything...does things to me. And now I must attempt to go meet my date and not think about you...wish me luck.

Namjoon isn't quite sure why he adds in that last part; Jeongguk is also quite stunning. But there is a gravitational pull to Taehyung that makes Namjoon want to flirt and be vulnerable in ways he doesn't often allow himself to be.

As soon as Namjoon hits send, his phone lights up with a message from his date, and his heart skips an anticipatory beat.

Jeongguk I'm leaving a bit early, so I'll save us a seat!

Ordinarily, Namjoon would order a cab, just in case he has a little too much to drink, but since Jeongguk says he lives near the noodle spot, he opts to drive. And anyway, if Jeongguk's place is close, and they do hit it off, perhaps it won't be a problem for him to drink, since he won't have to drive home.

Namjoon Sounds good. I'm heading over now! Be there in 10ish.

tags: @btsstan12 @codeinebelle@dasexydevitt13 @giriiboyy @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki 📲 this is a limited run fic, but if you would like to be added to the tag list (or all of my tag lists,) please comment or dm!

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#namjoon x jungkook #namkook #btswritersclub #btscarnivalnet #btshoneyhive #namkook fluff #namkook smut #bts fluff #fic: this sordid place

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