#the best shark boi out there

[naffeclipse]

Hello darling. With all baby dolphin fever asks I have a question.

How would boys react to Y/n being gone and hurt by protecting the baby from the boys enemy? I can see enemies of the orca Mafia seeing y/n and the baby as the weakness of the boys, and then trying to use poor mama and a newborn to gain something from orcas, and as we know a good parent will protect their baby at all cost, what can lead to a fight. How would they boys react to finding out that their mate and the baby dissapeared? That their mate wa share to protect the young one?

Kisses ickove your work!

The orca sirens are very protective of their mate and their newborn, so to have Dolphin Y/N somehow leave all of their sights, and then go missing in a very short amount of time would trigger a full-blown hunting mode for Eclipse, Sun, and Moon. They quickly mobilize every single siren under their power and search far and wide for their sweet dolphin siren and the child. The powerful mafia leaders are frantic with fear and uncertainty. How did this happen? Where is their darling dolphin siren?

Eclipse discovers Y/N in a dark, icy alcove, not too far from the center of their terrorism after a full day and night. They're exhausted and bleeding from a clear siren shark bite on their tail. They're limply curled around their baby as the little one cries. Eclipse startles them with his sudden emergence from the sea, but then they sob in relief. One of their mates found them. After he pulls them close, softly shushing them and promising it's alright, he will keep them safe, he examines their wounds and ensures the baby is unharmed. Y/N needs help. Y/N protected their child, but it's clear there was a great struggle as Y/N is close to passing out from the fear and exertion of it all. Eclipse takes both of them into his arms and swims as quickly as he can while holding them. He burns internally, having to hide his gnashing teeth to not startle the newborn and let Y/N rest, but he is seeing red.

Whoever touched his mate will suffer greatly, and only after will he slaughter them. First, he will take care of Y/N and the baby.

Sun and Moon are equally relieved and horrified to find Eclipse returning with their mate, bleeding and unconscious. Eclipse takes the newborn while Sun and Moon attend to their injuries, closing them as best as they can while allowing Y/N to rest. Sun and Moon are furious and want answers, but they all have to wait for Y/N to wake up and regain their strength. Soon, Y/N revives with their head on Moon's tail/lap. Sun softly coaxes them to awareness with the promise of food. Eclipse is very close with their little one and helps them to hold the baby while they retell what happened exactly.

They had simply gone drifting with their little one, wanting to stretch their tail and flex their fins, barely out of sight from other members of the pod, only to be ambushed. A Greenland shark siren attacked them. Y/N swam fast and fought hard to keep the shark from harming their baby but suffered wounds themselves. The siren kept attempting to capture Y/N and take them somewhere, but they refused, fueled by a primal instinct to shield their child. The siren eventually lost them in a field of ice floe, and then Y/N found the ice cave. They didn't know what to do. They weren't certain if they got the siren off their tail They were so afraid. Eclipse, Sun, and Moon bristle equally, but this is no stranger. Y/N and the boys are familiar with the perpetrator.

They've had difficulties with others accepting their power of influence. Of course, they've had some would-be members of their pod slip away or quietly skirt their area of the sea in anger but this is worse. A shark siren of this description was one of their underlings. The siren had difficulty with obedience in the past but the brothers believe they had smothered that rebellious streak. They see clearly now that they've been too merciful. The member attacked their mate and their child and attempted to steal them away. For what? Leverage? Power? As if the brothers would allow the siren to hold their mate over their heads and bring harm to the precious newborn.

The shark siren would be foolish to hang around after a failed attempt to steal the orca sirens' mate, but Eclipse, Sun, and Moon are patient hunters. For now, they shush Y/N and reassure them that they are safe. They are not leaving their sights ever again, and softly stroke the baby's head until their darling mate falls asleep, still recovering from the ordeal.

But they plot quietly, calmly. Day after day, night after night, they will scour and they will stalk, and when they find the siren that touched their mate, they will turn the ocean red.

[how-the-feathers-have-fallen]

Me, fighting tooth and nail against my irl friends who are sw*fties: yeah well, maybe I want my sad girl music to have a 3 minute guitar solo and distorted audio after the second verse of vaguely gay lyrics have you considered that ?!

[muffinlance]

The feral cat gator of a 13 year old freshly scarred Zuko being forcibly adopted by the foggy swamp tribe! Bonus points if they willfully ignore the fact he's a firebender and treat him as a very strange waterbender bending-wise

It was Earth Kingdom ships that drove the metal one onto the reefs, so when the little thing came crawling up through the marsh spitting and hissing and dressed in red, they knew it weren’t no earthbender. No matter how much mud it had tripped in, trying to find where the ground stopped sucking at its feet.

“Wow-ee,” said Old Earl, “that sure is one way of keepin’ off the ‘squito-chiggers.”

And they all watched from Big Earl’s porch, sitting or rocking, as them bugs came for the all-you-can-eat and ended up on the bar-b-que.

“Sure is some weird bending,” said Little Earl, who was taller than Big Earl, but when they'd been twelve and they’d wrestled for the title it hadn't been Little Earl who’d won.

The little thing looked maybe twelve, too. And he was little little. But he had that same look like he was going to shove someone’s face in the mud until they said otherwise, as he stood there all panting and dripping and just realizing they’d been watching him this whole time.

“It’s firebending,” the one-kid mud-wrestler said, as bugs kept pop-snapping into flames around him.

Old Earl cupped a hand over his ear, like he couldn’t hear. And he kept doing it, while the kid got louder and louder about that bending of his, but quieter and quieter about looking at them like they were his next bugs.

“Oh, firebending,” Old Earl said, nodding like he’d only just got it, when the kid had stomped straight up to his chair. “Right, right, Old Jane’s got fire-water-bending, too. Why don’t you take him to her, boys.”

“It’s not-- ugh,” shouted the kid, but maybe he only had the one volume. Certainly only had the one volume for stomping, even though stomping was what got a fellow’s shoes shoved down so deep in the mud they’d be seeing them again as mole-shrimp hats. Not that the kid had shoes. Neither did Earl, Earl, or Earl. ‘Cept for Fancy Earl, but he’d gone off to Ba-Singing-Se, to be fancy.

Anyway, Old Jane was the best at turning anything and everything into fire water, which was the kind of thing a fellow called his or her liquor when they wanted fancy folk to keep right on walking. Was really good for making shouty little firebrands take their naps, too, which let Old Jane get her glowing mitts all over that fresh burn of his. And the love-bites from the shark-wrasses that had probably been half the reason the kid had come a-shore all a-shouting in the first place.

“Nope,” diagnosed Old Jane, when the kid woke back up. “That’s just how he talks. Mother was a screamer-bird, I’d say.”

“You take that back about my mother,” screamed their screamer-bird, who had pretty good hearing for someone who’s ear had lost the same fight as his eye. Anyway, Old Jane had done the best she could about both, and nothing was on fire that shouldn’t be, and she had that extra quilt she’d been working on that needed a body under it

And the waves and the shark-wrasses had all the rest of the kid’s crew

So sure enough they set their little screamer-bird up with a nest and let him cry loud as he wanted.

Anyway, if there was one thing Earl Earl Earl and Jane knew, it was how to make a joke so good the other person didn’t even know it were a joke.

“Firebending,” their little fledgling shouted, and waved his arms around, like all that fire pointed at no one was going to get them startled off.

“A-yep,” nodded Old Earl. “That there is some fire-water-bending. Just like Old Jane.”

Old Jane wasn’t the kind of gal who showed off, but she wasn’t the kind who missed no cue, either. She swirled a lick o’ liquor out of her latest barrel and twirled it ‘round and straight into her mouth, and when she spit it out, it looked so much like the little bird’s breath-o’-fire that he didn’t even notice the spark rocks she kept on her fingers as jewelry. No one did, ‘til they’d seen the trick a few times.

The kid’s mouth hung open so low and so long, a moth-tick flew in. That was some kind of life lesson, that was. The swamp was good at sending those.

The Earth Kingdom sent troops a-stompin’ through, losing boots and scaring catigators out of their sunning spots left and right, askin’ all rumbly about those fires they’d spotted, and if anyone from that shipwreck had made it on shore, and talkin’ about how there’d be money in it for them if they made that last answer a “yes,” sounding like Fancy Earl and all his talk about commerce and living standards.

“Got a few parts of them ship people in the lagoon,” Big Earl said. “Probably still floatin’ if you want ‘em. But we better bring the shrimp-minnow nets, ‘cuase they’ll just slosh on through the turtle-sturgeon ones.”

“...No thank you,” the head stomper said, like sayin’ polite words made a fellow a polite man. He’d tracked those boots of his right up onto their porch without so much as a scuff on their mud rug. Even the kid had used the mud rug. “And the fire?”

“Oh,” said Little Earl, with a grin, “that was Old Jane.”

And she did her trick again, only less tricky, so they could see the spark rocks real good. “You boys want some fire water?” she offered. “It ain’t blinded no one who wasn’t already headed that way.”

They didn’t want any, which was grand, ‘cause she hadn’t really been offering.

When the last of them had gone stomping off back to the kind of land that let people stomp it, it took them two whole hours to lure out the catigators from under the porch. And their little screamer bird, too.

“...Why didn’t you turn me in?”

“What?” asked Old Earl, cupping his ear.

“Why—”

“What?”

“—didn’t—”

“WHAT?”

“—you—”

“Speak up, boy,” Old Earl said. “I never heard such a quiet child.”

And boy, did that set their bird back to singing.

[acid-ixx]

again &. again masterlist

by the bird and the bee

ft. platonic soft! yandere batfam! x gn! neglected reader

— TRIGGER WARNINGS !

- emotional neglect, allusions to sexual assault, prostitution & physical abuse, kidnapping, alcohol abuse, drugging, themes of depression, dissociation, vague traumatic events, mentions of murder, other warnings would be added soon.

— CHAPTERS ! ; 34k+ words

00. — oh, please leave me be.

01. — because you only notice me once i'm out the door.

02. — and you don't even remember my face?

03. — i need a drink, away from everyone.

04. — mors tua, vita mea / your death, my life.

— DRABBLES ! ; #series: again &. again

dick grayson calling you his baby bird

why now? (yan! damian wayne)

brutus (villain au concept)

brutus: out for blood

what if you were never neglected?

just a taste (yan! conner kent - suggestive)

laughter is the best medicine (yan! dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne)

to you, my greatest passion (non-neglected au-verse)

brutus: both arms cradle you now

bruce finding your graduation picture

how to be a heartbreaker! (yandere harem)

— ASKS ! ; #series: again &. again

dick's spiral into yandere-ism

leaving gotham, resenting alfred, changing last names

your mysterious identity &. conner being your love interest

dick seeing you as a child & damian's need to be your favorite

damian and his cool, matching bracelets

does dick close the door on you? nah, he doesn't even know you were behind the door

wally west as your love interest

you care now?

conner as your angry, protective bf

jason trying his damn best to be a brother to you

calling bruce by his last name only

calling alfred your dad ft. jealous bruce

how are damian and jason obsessed towards you

their nicknames for you

how bruce and damian would try to bond with you

will you still go to college after being kidnapped?

— INCORRECT QUOTES ! ; #a&a: incorrect quotes

yan! villains kidnapping you

hostage situation

how to become a target to the wayne family

— FANART ! ; #a&a: fanart

happy birthday by @luffyadolover

diary by @luffyadolover

another reason they're broke &. finished art by @oh-nowo-i-got-uwu

a take on the reader's appearance by @luffyadolover

reader trying to study ft. the batfam's endless calls &. finished art by @ghostdoodlen

reader finding bruce and damian watching a movie by @luffyadolover

again &. again mv by @luffyadolover

reader and their playlist by @luffyadolover

a comic panel by @lucioleestolie

conner and reader flying through the skies by @ghostdoodlen

when all of a sudden, i hear this agitating noise by @punpunsonny

villain au reader by @lazyemmy

a&a oc: emile by @questionthegrapevine

graduation pic, conner comfort, and mirrors by @ghostdoodlen

neglected &. non-neglected reader by @lazyemmy

— TAGLIST ! ; taglist is closed!

@.lilyalone, @.secretomelettetroops, @.earlqurl, @.simpingfor-wakasa, @.amber-content, @.ruiroku, @.okaybutfullhomo, @.trasshy-artist, @.obsessedwithromance, @.jjsmeowthie, @.fairy-lenaa, @.ilovvmyhusband, @.6uuyuuhgy, @.plsfckmedxddy, @.lavender-moony, @.sweetheart-era, @.chemicalsandghosts, @.darling006, @.starringyau, @.samanthahanes, @.rosecentury, @.jaythes1mp, @.pi1nkl0ver, @.i-thirsty-boy, @.sharks-are-cool-l, @.silverklaus, @.samanthathanes, @.traumaramacenter, @.maddimoon, @.anxrq, @.thedarknesslord, @.h0rr0r-10ver-69, @.lazy-idate, @.cupids-pretty-boy, @.alishii, @.mel-star636, @.sitepathos, @.freakyotaku059-blog, @.dirtydiavolo, @.sunbleachedantlers, @.24hrsoflanii, @.ceramic-raven, @.une-lueur-dans-la-nuit, @.tdickensstuff4, @.thickerthanthieves, @.arlandvery, @.distressed-lezbo, @.bunbunboysworld, @.bellethesleepypotato, @.naina326, @.nebuluma, @.alliwantisadonut, @.alishii, @.kusakiguzen, @.sirenetheblogger, @.emmbny, @.ryukyuin, @.solkara, @.starsdotalk

[barbies1shots]

☆-fav big boy pushing you into a mean mating press? mating press, size kink, dub-con, small degradation, featuring BIG BOY KIRI♡, overstim ,(yk how i feel about this.)

getting straight to the point, big boy kiri would take every competition to heart. every challenge, every word, every action to heart. so when you first challenged him to make you tap out first? he took it and swore he would.

so now, with his body weight pushing you down, down till your knees were quite literally pressed into your chest, you couldn't even sputter out the words, 'I tap out.'

his torso itself locked you in place as he dragged his slutty hips in and out of your little cunt. he locked his fingers above your head so you couldn't squirm away from his brutal thrusts. his head hung low in the junction of your neck, listening to your half-sobs half-whimpers.

he heard you try and tell him that you came, that you came two times- no make it three now, but all he did was kiss his shark-like teeth and smile as he seemed to go even harder.

he turned his head as he panted into your hung one, his lips tugged into a menacing smirk. his victory went unnoticed. his large scarred hands took up your whole knee, and part of your thighs as he went and pinned you down with his body weight :( 250 lbs of pure muscle and fat.

his stroks were relentless, his fat, blunt head kissing your poor cervix with every jerk of his hips, every movement causing a sob- moan? choking its way from your throat. he put his weight behind his thrusts, making your body ludge yet stopped by his interlocked hands. every thrust had your toes curling next to his head as your mouth just hung wide open.

why play with fire when you know you just couldn't take him?

you felt something in your tummy, something mean and brutal push itself with every thrust, everytime his tip kissed your cervix it grew bigger and bigger. see, you tried to warn him you felt weird, that he needed to stop yet he kept fucking you like a miniature pocket pussy^^

you squirmed from under him, your hands scratching at bare skin, as you arched as best you can with his body weight on you. poor big boy kiri gasped in shock when he felt your juices spray him. wetting him down from his chest, to his thighs, and all the way down to the bed sheets. he smirked, rewarded yet kept going, ignoring your pain filled sobs and pleasure filled whines. ignoring your nails biting into your already scarred skin and your little bitch slaps. he ignored the pleads of him to slow down, of him to stop and give you a break get he just kept using you like the little fleshlight he deemed you are:((

if you wanted him to stop, you couldve used the safe word, right?

an: think i may change my writing style...

@aizawasbarb

[pennjammin]

❀ halle berry.ᐟ❀

a glimpse into the mind of jjk men being feral over your perfect thighs <3

content: gn!reader (Choso, Geto), switch!choso, thigh fucking, cunnilingus (Gojo), afab!reader (Nanami, Gojo), sorcery!au (Gojo), exhibitionism (nanami), toys (geto), husband!nanami, established relationship, ¿unprotected?

word count. 3k

incl pairings: choso, gojo, geto, nanami

soundtrack 🪐📀: p*$$y fairy!

a/n: the title is because in the song halle berry he’s like going crazy over how fine his woman is and so i thought it fit LMFAOAO

🧚🏼��♀️

Choso

Choso loves when you wear thigh-high socks.

You’d scored a light blue and white striped pair with C’s on them, just for your Cho baby. They slip and slide all down your legs as Choso fucks between them, fingers entangled in the material.

“Hngh - warm,” is all he manages to mumble as his slick cock slides through your thighs.

The two of you stand in front of the mirror, your hands behind you, holding onto his back as he strokes needily.

You watch as his fat, light-colored tip pokes through with each of his thrusts, his fingers now sliding up, and shoved deep into the light stretch marks on your hips. All you have on is the socks, your back arched painfully, and you moan as you watch him use you for his pleasure.

“Feels so good, huh, Cho?” you purr, sliding a hand behind your head to fist one of his pigtails.

“S-So good,” he mutters, his pace quickening. You can feel his cock rub against your aching heat with every stroke, slicking him up, making your thighs all wet and sticky.

Lewd suction noises pour into the room to mesh with Choso’s moans, your own praises cooing out in time with his thrusts.

Yes. Good boy. So good. Like that. Don’t stop.

Choso’s hands come up and desperately grip your chest, holding on tightly and applying pressure to your achingly hard nipples.

“F-fuck,” you whine, and Choso’s head falls onto your shoulder as you release his hair.

“C-Can I please put it in now?” he begs, teeth clamping down onto your skin, softly planting kisses there after.

“Mm, dunno,” you taunt, “don’t know if you deserve it.”

“B-But I’ve been good,” Choso whines out. His grip on your chest softens but he continues to roll his hips, sliding that cock in and out, and you feel yourself drip more as the tip travels over the sensitive underside of your heat.

You shudder against him, and when he speaks again his tone has shifted mildly.

“That’s right,” he coos. “Y-Y’know you wanna let me in, baby, please?”

Your hands find his thighs and dig your nails in. He lets out a filthy howl in your ear, which makes you moan in frustration.

“Fuck it,” you whisper, leaning forward and planting your hands on the mirror. “Fuck me, Cho. Need you.”

Choso gasps, as if he hadn’t intended for that to work, but nevertheless he wastes no time grabbing himself at the base and pressing his tip to your soppy hole.

“Th-Thank you,” he mumbles. “Love your thighs, but nothing feels as good as your insides, baby.”

You shake your head and part your legs to give him more access. “Hurry up before I keep you from cumming,” you snap.

“Y-Yes baby,” Choso chirps, and it isn’t long before the two of you have completely forgotten about the socks as they slide to your ankles, your mind going brainless as Choso punishes you right back.

Gojo

Gojo tries to pretend he doesn’t have an issue with you leaving the house in fishnets, but realistically, it always makes him irrationally jealous. Especially to go on missions, when he knows everyone will be in attendance.

Now, he knows he’s the strongest sorcerer and - the most attractive - and well, the best. He knows you’d be insane to leave him for anyone else. You wouldn’t.

But he also knows that when you look like that - the big gaps in the nets not hiding the perfect shape of your smooth thighs and a pleated blue skirt to compliment your uniform - that you’re nothing but blood in a sea of sharks.

Even Nanami, the respectable man that he is, sneaks a second look when you come by. And Gojo wants to wring his neck for it.

He’s forced to watch as you kiss Geto on the cheek and laugh at one of Higuruma’s, no doubt, unfunny jokes. He swipes a hand across his face. Thank God for his blindfold. No one can see the rage in his eyes.

It’s only about halfway through the day when he can’t stand it any longer. He sees you keep messing with them, twisting and adjusting them, and he drags his eyes to your little fingers, reminding him how they entangle themselves in his hair whenever he has his tongue buried in your hole.

He’s thinking about ripping a gaping hole in the tights and pushing your panties to the side, too desperate to worry about taking all of it off, and devouring you around the material.

You’d let out a surprised moan, like you always do at first contact. He’d blow cool air on your clit while two of his fingers pinch and massage your wet folds. You’d writhe, your thighs would clench over his ears like fleshy earmuffs. He’d have no choice but to lift his blindfold off of one eye, just to get a better look at your head fallen back, your top teeth clenching your bottom lip.

He’d continue to shred the fishnets as he entangled his long fingers in them for support. You’d whine that they were your favorite. He’d whisper that he’ll buy you a hundred new pairs, and you’d moan from his breathy words landing on your aching clit.

“Satoru,” your voice chokes him out of his fantasy.

He glances down at you through his cloth, though he knows you can’t tell. He clears his throat.

“Yes?” he croaks out.

“Did you hear me? We’re going to grab lunch,” you run a hand over his arm and he feels his muscles respobd to your touch. “Coming?”

Damn near, he almost says, but he instead smiles and pulls you into a side hug - making sure to glide his hand over your hip as you begin walking together.

You chirp against him and put a hand on his chest to balance yourself. “Mmh, did you know you have a little… situation?” you question innocently, and Satoru doesn’t even have to look down to know how rock solid he is in his pants.

“It’s your fault,” he grits back. “I keep telling you not to wear these.” He stops to flick the tights with his finger.

You giggle and drop your hand. “And I keep telling you that I’m gonna do it till you force me to stop.”

Gojo stops walking. The rest of the group is well ahead, good. They won’t notice the two of you falling behind.

“Do we really have to eat with them?” he asks.

“You read my mind,” you look up and stand on your toes to kiss him on the chin, to which he shivers. You, making the most powerful and supposedly composed sorcerer, shiver. “I’ve got your favorite snack already.”

Gojo glances up again to make sure the group is at least out of earshot, and without hesitance he’s gripping your hand and dragging you off towards the opposite direction.

“Fuck, this is why I love you,” he growls. “But seriously. This is your last time wearing these, okay?”

You nod your head innocently, though he knows good and well that you’re just playing along, and after he’s done ripping your current pair to shreds, the following week you’ll be right back in a new pair to tease him with.

Nanami

Nanami is a conservative man. He doesn’t show off much of his skin. Not that it’s really the same for men, but he certainly doesn’t mind when you do it.

His favorite kind is you, wearing a strapless number with a dangerously high slit in it, holding a tiny clutch with nothing but lip gloss inside because you have no reason to carry a wallet when you go out together.

But what gets him the most is your tall, knee-high heels with red on the bottom. They had been a Christmas gift from him, but it still amazes him how you’re able to balance yourself on them each time, without fail.

He orders you a driver, like always, so that the two of you can drink together without worrying about the commute home. He’s immediately pulling your leg over his lap after he joins you in the backseat.

He watches as the material of your dress falls back against the leather seat. The skin on your thighs have puffed out; he’s ogling them like a schoolboy. He catches a glimpse of your hip under the slit. He realizes with a jolt there’s no panty waistline.

You’ve left the house commando.

He tightens his grip on the material of your boot, trying to pry his eyes away, but all he can think about is how disgustingly easy you’ve made it for him to sit beside you at dinner and tip-toe his fingers into the slit of the dress and part your legs with his fingertips.

You’d oblige immediately, gasping as you look over at him and pretend you don’t want to do this in public.

But he would continue on, making small talk with the waitress and ordering wine as he begins to drag the fingertip over your clit that’s already throbbing achingly.

When the waitress leaves, he’d lean over and kiss you on the cheek, and you’d lean back against the seat and part your legs a bit to give him more access.

His eyes would catch another glimpse at the delicious shoes and momentarily falter as he wonders what they look like over his shoulders. He doesn’t have to wonder what you’d look like under him, getting stuffed and bent out of shape in your skimpy dress, because your face is already so flushed - your lips slightly parted as you try not to moan.

He blinks, and he’s suddenly back in the car, and his hand has mindlessly travelled to rest on your bare hip. You stare at him a bit confused, because he’s sitting and just staring blankly at you with his jaw clenched.

“Is everything okay?” you question.

He swallows and smiles reassuringly.

“Perfect, my love,” he nods. “Tell me, was wearing no underwear a last minute decision?”

He watches as you tap your chin, and then scoot your hips a bit closer to him, and now he knows you can feel his cock poking against your legs.

“Kind of,” you shrug. “Who needs them, you know?”

Nanami exhales. You little minx.

“You do, for my sake,” Nanami pinches a bit of the skin on your hip and you respond by gripping onto his tie. “I… am going to find it difficult to sit at dinner with this information.”

You giggle, a soft sound that sends more blood pumping through his cock. He thinks of the two of you in bed, when his dick accidentally slides out of you and you giggle at him while you grab the base and put it back in. Your face immediately twists from a smug crack of amusement to furrowed eyebrows and pleasure.

God, he’s so worked up.

“Driver,” he says suddenly, and he feels you raise an eyebrow at him. “Take us back home, please.”

Geto

You’ve never worn fancy underwear around Geto.

Your relationship started as a hookup a few years back, and whenever you saw each other, you were always drunk and just trying to claw to the bare skin underneath - hardly concerning yourselves with what kind of bra or underwear you had on.

As time has passed, you feel Geto deserves a surprise. You wonder what his reaction would be, to you maybe wearing something simple, like matching underwear and a pair of garters.

As soon as the order comes in, you’re putting it on. They are tight and dig into your skin, but you hope it’s going to be worth it.

You’re wearing the look underneath a big shirt and pajama pants, your typical attire for bed. Geto is in the bathroom, massaging oils into his hair and slicking it back.

You lean against the doorway, “You act like you’re going to run into the president in your dreams.”

Geto turns to you and grins, dropping his hands from the wet locks. “I have a reputation to uphold as the guy with flawless hair, alright?”

You roll your eyes. “To whom? Satoru?” You begin to make kissy noises. “And they’re both boys, mwah, mwah, mwah…”

“Oh hush,” Geto swats at you before washing his hands. Then, he walks a few steps over and plants a kiss on your head before sliding his hands up your sides and under the big shirt.

You watch as his brain registers what’s going on. His hands halt over the leather material of your garter belt, before he rips the shirt up to your chest and examines what’s going on underneath.

“Hello?” he says, cocking his head to the side. “Where did this come from, baby?”

You pull his hands off of the shirt and let the material fall back down. “No, go back to your hair. Don’t worry about it.”

You turn to walk away brattily, but he’s already gripping your wrist and tugging you back into the bathroom with him. Now, he’s got your back against the shower door, and you gasp.

“Don’t play,” Geto threatens, bringing his hands to the waistband of your pants this time. “Never seen you wear anything like this. Wonder what you’ve got on the bottom half?”

You don’t stop him as he bends towards the floor and brings your pants down with him. His pupils go black as he registers the leather panties that are underneath the thin belt that connects the garters.

Geto is visibly taken aback. He swallows thickly, and then he’s forcing you to step out of your pants and your thighs are being lifted into the air.

“Geto, wait!” you screech, falling back onto the glass as he rises to a standing position with his eyes still fixed on your legs.

“No, no,” he taunts. “None of that, angel. You’ve been holding out on me.” He tucks his finger under a piece of the leather and releases it with a stinging snap.

Your hands are desperately holding onto his shoulders for balance as Geto hikes your shirt back up to examine the full set in its glory.

“Your thighs are so thick, they’re about to pop right out, baby,” his hands snatch the material which causes your hips to slide to the edge of the counter. “Don’t you want me to release some of that tension?”

You groan as your eyes flutter. “I just wanted to see your reaction,” you admit. “I didn’t expect it to be th-th- oh!”

He’s using the shower wall to hold you up around his waist, because his thumb is already massaging your bundle of nerves through the leather, while his cock presses against your inner thigh. His free hand keeps your shirt up, staring over your torso like it’s his last meal.

“Well, what did you expect to happen, baby?” Geto scolds. “You know your thighs are my fucking weakness.” He grunts and tugs on the garters again. It stings, but it’s so good. “Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this, fu-uck.”

The leather’s tough, but Geto is tougher. He pulls your panties over, but he does it so harshly that the material shreds and falls over your leg. He doesn’t care, he’s still staring at your thighs, how they’re eating up the thin garters.

Your squishy skin feels so good around his waist, and he holds onto you as he dips his head into the crook of your neck.

You smell perfect, you feel perfect. He wants to take you into the bedroom and toss you on the bed.

He would die to see your thighs parted, a thick toy flushing in and out of you as you stare up at him with pleasure all over your face. He’d hold your legs apart by force, no matter how you tried to close them, and keep pushing it inside of you. Good girls deserve real cock, but since you wanted to tease him, you get rubber.

“G-Geto, please, I can’t take another,” you’d breathe, approaching your third orgasm already. He always recognizes it in your breath pattern, the way your moans pitch themselves up.

“Sorry, I wish I cared,” he’d purr, quickening his wrist to fuck the cum out of you that much sooner.

“Fuck,” he mumbles in real time, realizing he’d zoned out as his finger mindlessly plays with your clit. You’re already cumming under him, and he takes a deep breath as he feels your thighs shudder over his hips.

“Oh, Geto,” you moan, and he realizes how pussywhipped he really is.

And just how badly he needs to get you more garters, ASAP!

A/N:

just realized i need a whole fic of jjk men denying reader the privilege of his c*ck while he uses toys on them… oh boy.

ily guys for your support as always!!! wow i almost reached 500 followers this is so overwhelming <33 ty guys for your patience and kind words and muse when you see this bby, know you truly keep me motivated ^.^

~ pennjammin

[silkentine]

All I could think while drawing Nami was, “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?” And, of course, with Robin I was thinking, “save a horse… 🥵”

Design Notes and other opining below the cut:

For Nami, I wanted to go for a mix of cocky Jersey mafia newbie and surfer boy. I like to think that some of the horrendous outfit choices that Sanji makes (especially in the movies) were actually picked out by Nami. She’s the shopper!!! But yeah, the vibrant swim trunks and graphic tees just scream Nami. I also wanted to put him in a wetsuit/rash guard because I think that’s a sexy look so sue me if you hate it. You cannot argue with me that Nami doesn’t wear swimsuits as clothes.

He’s toned but not as muscular as Robin or Luffy (for example) because he isn’t a front-line fighter, I want him to maintain the same kind of role that Nami has in the animanga. He’s the best navigator in the world!! I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change the violent tendencies that Nami has, but ultimately I think he’d still give the more deserving members of the crew a healthy wallop (although I might portray it more cartoonishly). Boy Piece!Nami still grew up under Arlong’s authority so he spent a lot of his childhood walking on eggshells to protect his village and his brother, Nojiko, so I think he never really got to learn “you’re not supposed to hit people just because they frustrate you” lesson. I gave him a shark-tooth necklace because surely Arlong had a few loose teeth to spare once Luffy took her down. Victory spoils LOL

If he can get the girls to stop wrestling and sit down quietly for a while, he likes to host card games (with betting, of course) or watch the clouds while sipping whatever fruity cocktail Sanji whips up. I believe that Canon!Nami is a total lesbian, and I can’t possibly envision a Nami who doesn’t like women so Boy Piece!Nami is bi. I am, of course, a Namivivi truther and Vivi is also a man in this AU. I don’t hate Sanami within this dynamic though… lots to think about.

Okay!!! All-shipper mindset aside, let’s talk Robin. I gave him long hair because 1) it’s hot and 2) I think it makes him look like Dragon. Yeahhh, I subscribe to the Luffy and Robin are half-siblings theory because I think it’s funny and makes some sense. Crocodile is 100% Luffy’s Mom in this AU and I think Robin knows it LOL

For his outfits, I wanted to lean a bit more Indiana Jones where I could; he’s still primarily cowboy inspired though. For the main look, I went with the Skypeia color palette hehe, I think Robin looks good in yellow. I did some flower-petal shaped color blocking on his chaps because I think it’s cute and subtle. I really love that the powers of the Hana-Hana-no-mi are like… unexpected for a “flower flower” fruit and I think Robin would be more aware that juxtaposition as a guy. You might also be wondering about the gloves and I initially just had it for his cowboy look but I decided to put them on all the outfits up until the events of Enies Lobby. Canon!Robin has a really difficult childhood and I think it’s exacerbated by the fact that she’s a girl on her own. If Robin was a boy, he’d probably have an easier time living on his own but would be a lot less emotionally open. All of these elements combine to make him want that physical barrier between his real hands and the world. Once he can trust that the Strawhats will always be there for him, he’s more willing to be more physically open.

I also think it’d be cute if he was much more of a coffee drinker :3c I see Canon!Robin as a connoisseur who likes a well-brewed espresso but Boy Piece!Robin needs a cup of joe (no matter its quality) every chance he can get. So I drew him with his special #1 ARCHAEOLOGIST mug.

It would make me so happy if you left your thoughts in the tags or replies!! Even if you hate everything about them, I just really like engagement hahaha. I’m thinking girl Usopp is next despite the poll results because she’s on my mind rn (don’t hold me to this, LOL I’m fickle). I’m making these for fun so I just wanna make designs in the order that interests me the most. Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog to see all the genderbends I have so far. And happy pride!!!

[thebiggerbear]

no one's the new me

Summary: Soldier Boy is the OG Supe. You goad him into proving it and get more than you bargained for...or did you?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: All unbeta'd. Thank you to @rieleatiel for the pre-read!

Warnings: smut; rough sex; language; implied breeding kink

Word Count: 846

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

Soldier Boy Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

@muhahaha303; @just-levyy; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007

@onlyangel-444

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You can also read on AO3

Strong hands tugged on your hair, forcing your head back and your body to arch, accommodating the brute force you were being fucked with. You could feel the aggression, the rage, that was being unleashed on you in response to your taunts earlier. Your words had been purposeful; you knew they would rile him up enough to throw caution to the wind and show you how wrong you were. It had been nearly three hours since he began teaching you to “respect your fucking elders.”

Your throat was sore, your ass bruised from hips brutally slamming into yours — plus you actually got spanked near the beginning because you were being a fucking brat — and your pussy was on fire. At least five orgasms had been out of your body so far, a new personal record for you, and yet you wouldn’t dream of stopping. Though you knew the man savagely pistoning in and out of you would, the second you said it. 

That was just another thing that drew your desire to him the second he stepped out of that tube back in Russia: the control. You’d watched in fascination as he let loose a burst of energy that knocked The Female on her ass, yet you later found out she’d been fortunate after that same energy took out city blocks and one old, washed up, backstabbing Crimson Cunt. The minute you saw him emerge from the smoking wreckage of her trailer, his suit and shield completely intact, you knew he was so much more than a weapon for Butcher and his merry band of idiots to wield against Homelander.

He was the embodiment of raw power, a purity from being the first ever Supe mixed with whatever cocktail the Russians had given him.

You certainly could feel that power, the might and god-like strength that the body slamming into yours contained. If you weren’t experiencing the best fuck of your life right then, your eyes would have rolled back into your head and you would have orgasmed from the heady knowledge of that alone. 

“Say it,” was growled menacingly into your ear.

You pressed your lips together to keep quiet. You knew that would only stoke the rage but that didn’t matter.

Fingers roughly gripped your chin and turned you to face the dark emerald gaze burning into yours, fury written all over his features. He stopped fucking you for a moment, only to deliver deep and harsh thrusts, his expression tightening with more anger the longer you refused to give in to his demand. You could feel your body starting to act of its own accord, the excitement rushing through you as fiery tingles began deep inside you, right near where he had been pummeling you a moment ago as a matter of fact. “Say it,” he commanded once more in a snarl.

The tingles radiated throughout your pelvic region and you started to feel a wave of sensations getting closer and closer to overwhelming every single inch of you. You reached up to grip his wrist, holding on tightly as your body began to shake. 

He was merciless, though. He wanted you to have learned your lesson. “Fucking say it.”

“No one…” You struggled to get out the words, to keep eye contact even; the feelings overtaking your body were that intense. You let out an exhalation of a sound you had never made before. “No one’s the new you,” you panted, your jaw dropping in a silent cry as that wave became like wildfire, consuming you rapidly, your fingers finding purchase in his forearm.

A shark-like smile slowly spread across Soldier Boy’s face as he watched you alternate between squirming and tensing up. “That’s right. And don’t you fucking forget it.”

You could see that he was about to resume pounding into you and once he did, you would be lost to the intensity of the orgasm that was quickly coming to claim you. A scream was about to tear out of your chest when he pushed in deeply one last time, him clearly enjoying that he had you on that edge, about to go over it, and deciding to be a dick about it. So you managed to grab his face, forcing him to meet your eyes, and quickly said what you’d been waiting to tell him ever since you saw him in that fucking suit, wielding that big ass shield which served as more of a weapon than protection. “Except the son you’re going to fuck into me tonight.”

His smirk dropped and the burning emerald was back, possibly more ablaze than before, and his grip tightened on you almost to the point of pain. If you weren’t in the throes of the most mind-numbing orgasm of your life right then, you would have given him your own smirk, knowing exactly what was about to follow. You thought he had unleashed on you before, but once again, he was intent on showing you just how wrong you were. You had never been happier to be mistaken twice in one night.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[holybibly]

More food play, bunnies? You wanted it, now you get it. Unholy thoughts of the day, bunnies: The idea of serving a luxurious dinner on a naked, hot body has never sounded so appealing, especially when the main course comes with sweet, wet pussy for dessert. Or dirty, perverted idols Ateez discover the exciting, sexy experience of Nyotaimori during their schedule in Japan.

Nyotaimori - often referred to as "body sushi", is the Japanese practice of serving sashimi or sushi from the naked body of a woman. 

Yunho first heard about it from his friend the last time he was in Japan during a break between comebacks. His friend described it as the most vivid, hot, and incredibly sexual experience of his life. And incredibly expensive too. But as Minhyuk assured him, it was worth every damn penny, and he would definitely go back to this special restaurant again to get supplements. And Yunho thought about it seriously. He even did some research and watched some porn on the subject and some hentai videos, and he has to say that it turned him on so much so that he had to jerk off several times in a row to completely empty his balls and quench his need to fuck.

His dick was so hard and pulsating rhythmically as he watched several guys on the screen eating sushi and sashimi from the naked body of a pretty busty girl with a tiny, slime-stained pussy and then fucking her hard in all the tight, wet holes. They were pulling her onto their big cocks, after which they cum all over her body, covering her completely with their sperm. And fuck, now this sweet, haunting image is permanently lodged in his head. 

Of course, his friends weren't left out of Yunho's new dirty hobby. At first he only told Mingi about it, and, as usual, his best friend supported him enthusiastically, and soon they were both greedily glued to porn videos of this style. Gradually, it spread beyond the two of them, and soon the whole group was somehow drawn into Yunho's hot, perverse fantasy of nyotaimori and dirty gangbang.

It got to the point where all the boys unanimously decided that on their next trip to Japan, they would definitely visit this special restaurant that Minhyuk had recommended. And so Yunho found himself in the dark reception area of Deep Dive, one of the most modern and hyped places in Tokyo. And for good reason, as this restaurant offered not only a deep culinary immersion into a variety of exquisite tastes but also into the depths of various sexual practices.

"So, Mr. Jeong, do you have a preference for a host for your dinner?" The woman in front of him looks stunning, but so does the shark looking for its prey.

Yunho clutches the list of preferences that the other members have written down regarding the type of girl they would like to see on the table.

"Ahem..." He clears his throat before he speaks. His cheeks are slightly flushed, but the thought that he is about to make his dirty dream come true makes his dick tense. "We'd like someone juicy..." God, it sounds so stupid, and judging by the way the woman in front of him raises a questioning eyebrow, he is not the only one who thinks the same. So Yunho quickly corrects himself. "I mean with curves, big and heavy breasts, a fat ass, hips, but petite."

"Okay, I get it; continue." The lady encourages him, making notes in her notebook.

"If possible, we want a more submissive girl, maybe into pet play and daddy kink."

"We can give you exactly what you want. What about sexual practices? Do you have any preferences?"

Such a frank, dirty question should embarrass him even more, but instead Yunho's eyes darken and his voice becomes confident and hoarse.

"Voyeurism, size perversion, deep throat, spanking, spitting, objectification, possibly double penetration and squirt, plus of course fingering, cunnilingus, and other classic practices."

"Yes, I understand." She writes something on the notebook again and looks up at him. "Do you want to role play with coercion or are you more attracted to enthusiastic consent?"

"Enthusiastic consent, please. We want her to want it too. Maybe even too much." Yunho bites his lip and drums his fingers on his knee, either from nerves or excitement.

"You're in luck, Mr. Jung; one of our new girls is really into group sex; you'll love her." A dazzling smile appears on her lips, and she looks straight into Yunho's eyes as she begins to repeat his order loudly and clearly. "So, Friday night at eight o'clock, we're expecting Mr. Jeong Yunho, Park Seonghwa, Song Mingi, and Jung Wooyoung at private booth number 8 for a tasting dinner. On our part, we guarantee complete safety and anonymity of your data. The NDA file was sent to you in advance by email.

The menu consists of twelve starters and one main course, which will be served by Miss Y/N, who will also be your host for the evening. Dessert is included. You have chosen the full immersion experience with special services (which implies a full-fledged sex scene). The cost of your dinner is one hundred million yen. Will you confirm your order?" The lady pushed the ATM towards Yunho and batted her eyelashes cutely, waiting for the beep to inform her of a successful transaction.

Yunho nonchalantly swiped Hongjoong's black bank card at the terminal and pressed the confirm button. As soon as the machine made a cute "ding," the receptionist extended her hand across the table for Yunho to shake.

"I hope your Deep Dive experience is truly memorable, Mr. Jeong. See you on Friday."

[chaosandmarigolds]

(slowly sets random sting ray plushie I got for my birthday down) Brain-rot. so I present Dad!Simon and Ollie at the aquarium

Simon! Who was currently two weeks deep into babysitting oliver and it being the middle of summer almost everywhere and everything had been exhausted

"Library time with Miss Rue?"

Ollie frowns from his ice cream,- which you would murder simon for if you found out which is why they were both sworn to secrecy, "MIss Rue is jus reeed-ing Peter Bunny again. No want."

"No want." Simon echoed slowly, leaning against the kitchen counter as he tried to think.

"Big mall?" "No..."

"The zipline park?" (A normal park with a little kid zipline)

"No."

"The animals?"

"Nope. Momma said we stinky after animal."

Simon nods again, the local farmer's markets would normally have a little petting zoo- so that had also become a staple. "She did- rightoo laddie. Okay...okay, let Mister Riley think for a minute."

Ollie nods to his babysitters words and takes another hefty bite of the ice cream, "We could....we could see fish? We see fish."

"Fish?"

"We go fish, in-in big pool."

Simon who spent ten finding which aquarium within a fifty mile radius had the best reviews because if he is...might as well make it memorable

Simon who made sure Ollie wore is water proof shoes because...well he just knew the kid was going to jump into the little kiddie water pad the aquarium had

Simon who packed a towel and change of clothes for that exact reason too

Simon who so has baby shark stuck in his head

Simon who once the tickets are purchased is already trying to trick the tyke down, basically playing marco polo

Simon who held up Ollie without a second thought to see the Jelly fish, telling him how he was once stung while he was down in Japan, smiling to the childs laughter

Simon who spends the extra fifteen dollars so Ollie could feed the stingrays, keeping an arm looped around him to keep him stable

Simon who of course notices the looks he's getting from the group of moms, he ignores them though

Simon who tried to politely turn down the one who came up to him, nice woman, seemed kind- yet...she wasn't...you

Simon who had to get more firm and did lie when she wouldn't get the message-

"Listen lady- I could kill ya without even blinking 'n you are really testin my patience so ho' bout you leave me 'n my son alone before i get annoyed?" Just how he assumed it would've gone down the woman became flustered and excused herself, meanwhile, Ollie was still being held in the air to look at the catfish.

Ollie looks to Simon as he then lets out a sigh and adjusts his grip on the boy, "Ister Riley?"

"Yeah, lad?"

"Mommy said killing people isn't nice."

Simon clears this throat, "Mum is real smart like that."

Simon who gets Ollie a plushie and teehsirt

Simon who feels really proud of himself when Ollie is fast asleep for the entire car ride home

(annnnyway thats it<333 any feedback and all that jazz means the world to me!!)

[favefandomimagines]

The Alchemy (j.m)

Request: @mrslestappen “May I request ( shy!Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank ) pleaseeeeee, where she has been friends with the boys just like Kie, (Kie, her and Sarah were the trio of friends) and after they reconciled she is super happy because she has her two best friends back. And let's just say JJ has a soft spot for her, even though she's a kook he's always taken care of her. And they have matching necklaces (the shark tooth one, let's just say that when he got his he also created hers and they have always had matching necklaces) + kind of obsessed with her (in a nice way) and let's say because she's always been with the guys she's never really been in a relationship so imagine the reaction JJ would have if she tells him she wants him to be her first kiss (first kiss is soft, second one is hot/possesive poor JJ will devour her, because only he knows how long he waited) and the rest I'll leave it up to you. (In my head this sounded better sorry)”

Summary: she always was going to pick him, he just needed to show her.

JJ Maybank didn't think he'd ever like a Kook. Hell, he didn’t think he’d ever even tolerate one. The Kooks were the people who had everything he and the other Pogues didn’t.

They were the rich kids on the other side of the island, the ones with trust funds, yachts, and pristine lives. JJ had seen enough of their type to last a lifetime, and he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

Except for her.

Her name was Y/N Y/L/N, and she was the only Kook JJ had ever been able to stomach. In fact, he more than just "stomached" her — he adored her.

He couldn't remember when it started, but he was pretty sure it was around the time he realized girls were more than just annoying distractions during surf sessions.

Somewhere between scraped knees on the beach as kids and sharing late-night bonfire confessions, Y/N had become more than just his friend.

She wasn’t like the rest of the Kooks. Y/N might have lived in one of the fanciest houses on Figure Eight, but she didn’t act like it. She hung out with JJ, John B, and Pope since they were kids, running wild through the marshes and crashing parties on the Cut.

Her mom used to be close with John B’s mom before she left, which meant Y/N spent almost as much time in the Chateau as John B himself. She was their bridge between worlds, best friends with Kie and, surprisingly, even got along with Sarah Cameron after their recent reconciliation.

JJ had given her a shark tooth necklace that matched his own back when they were kids, and she had worn it ever since. The necklace was a symbol, a quiet testament to their shared adventures and secrets.

It rested just below her collarbone, a constant reminder that she belonged with the Pogues, even if she didn’t entirely fit into their world.

For the most part, JJ was content just having her around. But sometimes, like right now, with the sun setting over the water and Y/N laughing at something John B had said, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his chest that he wanted more. More than just her friendship, more than just stolen glances and the occasional accidental brush of hands.

||

It was one of those hot, sticky Outer Banks afternoons when Y/N came to find him. JJ was at the dock, cleaning up the HMS Pogue, when he saw her walking toward him. She looked like sunshine personified, with her long hair catching the light and her eyes sparkling as if she held the secrets of the universe.

“Hey, JJ,” she greeted, her voice light and carefree, but there was something nervous in the way she bit her lip.

“What’s up, Princess?” he asked, straightening up and wiping his hands on his jeans.

She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her fingers toying with the shark tooth necklace he had given her. “I, uh, need to talk to you about something.”

JJ’s heart sank a little, the teasing grin on his face faltering. Usually, that phrase meant bad news. “What did you do this time? Burn down another country club?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but laughed. “No, JJ, not this time. It’s… it’s about a guy.”

JJ froze. “A guy?” he echoed, feeling like the ground had just shifted beneath him.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice softening. “I… I got asked out on a date.”

JJ’s stomach dropped, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He’d always known this day would come eventually, but he wasn’t prepared for how much it would hurt. “Who?” he managed to ask, trying to keep his voice steady.

“His name’s Trevor. He’s new in town, just moved here from Wilmington,” she explained, her eyes flicking to JJ’s face to gauge his reaction.

He knew the guy — tall, dark hair, probably some rich Kook kid whose family had money to burn. JJ felt the jealousy bubble up, hot and fierce. “And when’s this date supposed to happen?”

“Tomorrow night,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The girl he’d been in love with for years was going on a date with some random guy who had just waltzed into town. “Do you even like this dude?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted, looking genuinely conflicted. “But… what if he tries to kiss me?”

JJ’s jaw clenched. “Then tell him to back off,” he snapped, his temper flaring.

Y/N sighed, her shoulders slumping. “It’s not that simple, JJ. I’ve never… I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

The admission hung in the air between them, and JJ felt his heart stutter. Y/N, the girl who could light up a room with just her smile, had never had her first kiss. It was almost unfathomable. He swallowed hard, trying to tamp down the tidal wave of emotions crashing over him.

“Y/N…” he began, not sure what to say.

“I know it’s dumb,” she said quickly, looking down at her feet. “But I don’t want to mess it up. What if I’m terrible at it?”

He wanted to laugh because there was no way in hell she’d be bad at anything. “Are you seriously asking me for kissing advice?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and earnest. “Actually… I was hoping you could… you know… be my first kiss.”

JJ’s mind went blank. Of all the things he expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them. He stared at her, trying to wrap his head around the idea that the girl he’d been crazy about for years was asking him to be her first kiss. But not because she wanted him in that way — no, it was just so she wouldn’t screw up with some other guy.

“Y/N, are you serious?” he asked, his voice a low rasp.

She nodded, her cheeks turning pink. “I trust you, JJ. I know you won’t make it weird.”

Too late for that, he thought bitterly. But he couldn’t say no to her, not when she was looking at him like that. “Alright,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “But if I’m gonna be your first kiss, I’m not gonna half-ass it.”

Her eyes sparkled with gratitude, and she took a step closer to him.

They stood on the dock, the sun casting golden light over the water. JJ’s heart was pounding in his chest as Y/N moved even closer, so close he could feel her breath on his skin. He could see the nervous flutter of her eyelashes, the way her lips parted just slightly.

“Just… close your eyes, okay?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotions he couldn’t quite name.

Y/N nodded, her eyes fluttering shut, her lips trembling ever so slightly. JJ took a deep breath, his hand moving up to gently cup her cheek. His thumb brushed against her skin, and he could feel her shiver under his touch.

Then, with a tenderness he didn’t even know he was capable of, JJ leaned in and kissed her.

It was soft, gentle, the kind of kiss that could be over in the blink of an eye if you weren’t careful. But for JJ, it felt like the world had stopped. Her lips were warm and soft against his, and he could feel the way her fingers clutched at his shirt, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard, their eyes locked.

“How was that?” he asked, his voice barely more than a rasp.

Y/N was staring at him, her eyes wide and dazed. “That was… perfect,” she whispered. But then, as if realizing herself, she shook her head. “But maybe… one more time? Just to make sure I’ve got it?”

JJ’s breath hitched. This time, he didn’t hold back. He kissed her again, harder, more desperate, like he was trying to pour every unsaid word and unspoken feeling into that kiss. His hands cupped her face, Y/N melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair, and he was lost. He was completely and utterly lost in her.

When they finally broke apart, they were both gasping for air. JJ rested his forehead against hers, his hands still cradling her face. “Don’t go on that date, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

Y/N looked at him, her eyes searching his. And then she smiled, that beautiful, sunlit smile that he loved so much. “Yeah… I think I need to cancel that date,” she said softly.

||

It wasn’t long before the rest of the Pogues found out. Kie was ecstatic, practically tackling Y/N in a hug when she found out, while John B just grinned knowingly. Pope was the most surprised, but even he seemed happy for them.

“Finally!” Kie exclaimed, throwing her arms around JJ and Y/N “I was wondering how long it would take you two to figure it out.”

JJ just grinned, pulling Y/N close to his side. “Better late than never, right?”

The group celebrated their newfound relationship with a bonfire at the beach, laughter and music filling the night air. JJ couldn’t keep his hands off Y/N, whether it was holding her hand or wrapping an arm around her waist. He’d spent so long wanting this, and now that he had it, he wasn’t letting go.

As the night drew to a close, JJ pulled Y/N aside, away from the others. “I’m glad you picked me,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes shining. “I always would have picked you, JJ. I just needed you to show me first.”

He kissed her again, slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that felt like coming home. And for the first time in his life, JJ Maybank felt like he had everything he ever wanted.

The waves crashed around them, the world fading away until it was just the two of them, lost in each other. The Pogues cheered in the background, but JJ didn’t hear any of it.

All he could focus on was the girl in his arms, the girl who had always been more than just a Kook, more than just a friend. She was everything.

And she was his.

[anitalenia]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𝒄𝒘: sexual content ahead, husband!bale!batman, fem!reader on top, riding, some dirty talk, soft sex, not my best writing but fr fr don’t come for me im just trying to post things okay? ahhhhhhh 😔🤚🏻 maybe some typos 😚 i oughta be ashamed of myself fr fr 😔😔🤚🏻🤚🏻 ₊˚⊹♡

₊˚⊹♡ 𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆; eccentric billionaire, former eligible bachelor, orphan boy, son, rich playboy.

Labels. These were all just labels Bruce never particularly cared for nor paid attention to, monickers used to try and simplify who he really was so he could be easier understood. Labels used to better classify him because rich men like him supposedly didn’t have depth or purpose beyond what the media claimed him to have.

They were just labels, words that barely scratched the surface of who he really was.

Bruce had been called many things in his life, too many awful and offensive things he had quickly learned not to pay attention to. Caring gave them meaning, he was told so early on, caring gave them significance. Now, he really couldn’t care less.

Throughout the course of his life, throughout all the tragedy and grief, Bruce had learned to ignore it all; the names, the judgments, the looks, the labels. His indifference had become second nature, an innate response to anybody trying to provoke him.

He didn’t really have a choice anyway. There were too many people praying on his downfall since his birth, too many people biting at the fruits of his labor to see if they were ripe enough for the taking. Selfish, greedy, money hungry men desperate for his demise.

Sharks lurking in untamed depths ready to snatch him up if he swam too far, hiding in the black shores with their sharp teeth bared and beady eyes hungry.

Despite what many people believed, Bruce didn’t have it so easy in the sense of work and spirit. When you were rich like he was, famous like he was, as powerful as he was, everyone believed you couldn’t possibly be burdened by anything.

That he was too spoiled by the grandness of life that it had gradually bled into a lack of work ethic, that it was his last name that gave him any status at all, that it was his reputation that gave him everything he had without him having to ask for it.

He had the money to fix any problem, the influence to hide any scandal, the face to get him out of any situation he needed to get out of.

He was CEO of Wayne Enterprises for gods sake, son to Thomas Wayne, a man that was great and beloved all in his own right. Yes, people had doubted Bruce’s ability to lead, to run a business after so long of being away from it, but then he came back and proved them all wrong as he usually did.

Being someone so honorably renowned in Gotham City, someone that carried the Wayne name at that, it came with its own barrel of familial obligation and responsibility outside of his own personal commitments. He couldn’t disappoint anyone, could never fathom disappointing his late father.

Working by day a normal man with a bullet on his back, a price on his head to any hungry buisness man willing to do whatever it took to get to the top. Then working by night as Batman with the bruises and scars to show for it. Someone every criminal and lowlife in Gotham City wanted dead.

Batman, not so much a label as he was a separate being entirely. It was Bruce, but he couldn’t find any similarities between the polite buisness man wearing a suit by day and the other man wearing a blood stained mask by night. One was forced to coerce with society in the manner of business and passive aggressive smiles, another undertaking the grueling task of removing the grime from it.

Bruce Wayne was all expensive cologne and hand shake deals, money hungry tabloids and self absorbed white collars. It was a life always on display, always the center of attention, always everyone else’s focus.

Batman was purely mystery and intrigue. Hidden from sight yet found in every shadow, heard in the trembled whisper of every breath. No one knew who he was yet he had somehow gotten all of their attention. Everyone eager to know who was behind the mask but no one ready to answer for why he existed in the first place.

The only similarities they shared were the cause for conspiracy. Whether it was Bruce or Batman they stole every headline — always someone trying to figure them out, bring their true identity to light and spread more moral quandary about whether they were right or wrong for every choice they made.

Pure opposite lives he juggled in the same two hands.

No, he did not have it easy. Always more enemies than friends and more snakes than family. Every hour, every minute, every second he spent left exposed there was always someone right behind him ready to push him if he faltered.

He had to be careful; always be passive and nice, diplomatic and respectful to those he knew wanted him gone, to the people who wanted his seat at the head of the table and the money in his bank. Bruce had to be the CEO his father wanted him to be, the one he was destined to be, the one etched into his history before he was even born.

He had a reputation to uphold, a legacy to live, a job to do.

But no, it was not always easy.

Being rich and handsome like he was did have its downsides, as meager as they may seem to less fortunate individuals. Many people hated Bruce Wayne just for those simple, superficial things alone. His looks, his status, his job he was so rightfully given. Apparently this made him an asshole, arrogant, narcissist.

It was looks of hatred and envy from men he’d never even met, women he’d abandoned after a steamy two hour hookup (not that he did those anymore but women loved to hold a grudge), businessmen who cursed him to hell and back for his amount of wealth and fame he had no control over.

He didn’t care about these people anyway. These rambunctious, single minded people who preyed on the weak and ate the hopeless. They were all self centered, arrogant, narcissistic. Self absorbed scum unwilling to put in the hard work necessary to be as successful as he was.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Bruce was often regarded as someone lonely, someone lost, someone desolate and pitiful. He was a coward, hiding in his soulless black mansion under thick piles of money ever since the fatal death of his parents. So sad, an orphan, just depressing.

That was hushed whispers behind his back and somber stares, awkward, harrowing smiles from coworkers and the front pages of newspapers. Bruce Wayne back from hiding after all this time… living on his father’s name… will he fail or carry on the legacy of the great Wayne fortune… yada yada yada.

Just more words. Pointless and purposeless, written to appease the swill of Gotham with no real substance behind them. Gossip, false news, attention grabbing headlines that were purely speculation.

However, as much as he hated labels — more so his — whatever names he got called behind his back, Bruce couldn’t find it in sensible reason to argue that they weren’t pieces of who he really was. Fabrics of his character torn out thread by thread and poked and needled at by societies curious hands.

They were just pieces, stretched and torn so far from the truth but yet the original strings were still there, hanging on in remembrance of what he truly was chaotically intertwined in the lies and deception of what people thought him to be. Too shredded to be properly understood but still thriving in the undercurrents of whatever he was now being labeled as and people were now foolishly believing him to be.

Yes, they were just labels. But labels that were not so far from factual truths.

However again, none of those words mattered to him as much as this did, as much as the one label that he truly cared about.

Husband.

Your husband.

The only title he held in the same esteem as Batman and Wayne Enterprises CEO, perhaps even higher. It was one of the only labels that carried a semblance of true meaning, one he didn’t shy from.

Husband. It was the only honorific that mattered to him, one of the only sentiments that made him feel actual pride in who he was. Husband was something real, concrete, not some anonymous opinion in a paper or a cruel murmur in a hallway.

It was the label that pierced him through and through especially in moments like this, moments when your hips were rolling deeply on top of his and he was buried balls deep inside your warmth.

He couldn’t think about anything in this moment. Nothing and everything at the same time as your finger nails, freshly manicured and glittering, gripped into his shoulder blades as you rolled your hips once again.

Bruce winced pleasantly, jaw clenching as his head leaned back into the softness of his black silken pillows. Brown hair frazzled and stringy, his smooth skin alight with a soft, lovesick glow.

You rolled your hips once more in a soft soothing motion, nothing too rough and nothing too fast; the evening had called for something more sensual in the delicacy of Bruce’s touch and the softness of his words just an hour prior.

“Oh Bruce…” You sighed dreamily, hands pressing into his bulky arms as he sighed out a trembled breath from his nose.

Your thighs tightened around his waist, his heavy hands squeezing your hips but not as to pressure you, only to keep you connected to him at the hilt so he was never too far out of you.

“That’s good, sweetheart, get it just like that… mmhmm.” Bruce swallowed heavily, voice low and raw as his eyebrows furrowed over darkened hazel eyes. Fingers thrumming on your skin as you pulsed around him, wetness seeping out of your full entrance and gliding down his length until it could leave a memorable darkened patch on the sheets.

You whined quietly, voice high pitched and greedy as the length of him filled you up and pressed into every soft wall surrounding him. He was always thick, always perfect, always felt so fucking good it made your muscles tense and spasm.

You rolled your body in that delectable way he liked once more, barely moving yet every part of him felt the sparks of pleasure thrum through his skin and make his thighs lock up.

Bruce groaned hotly at the action, eyes flickering down to the wet mess of where your pussy was sucking him in. It was messy, glistening, shared arousal in white strings of mutual attraction. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass from where it sat perched on his strong thighs.

“Mm, fuck, honey.” Bruce breathed out gruffly more to himself than you when the sight of your wetness smeared all over him made his heart spike.

You didn’t respond, chin down to your chest and eyes closed as you focused on the pleasure in your own lower regions, the fullness and heaviness that filled you up and refused to part.

“Ohhh, feels so good-“ You gasped as a heavy spurt of pure pleasure sparked up your tummy, hole clenching around him tightly as an obscene gush of wetness leaked down his cock and onto his thighs.

Bruce licked his dry lips, eyes staring up at you heatedly; at the tightness of your shut eyes, the sweet moans gasping out of parted lips — lips, lips that were glossy and plush from all the needy kisses you shared with him just a mere moments ago.

He was enraptured by you, by your naked physique all soft and sweaty on top of him but he didn’t care. You were just so beautiful, pussy so perfect wrapped around him, squeezing his cock so good it made his mind fog up with indescribable pleasure.

“Yes, sweetheart, god, yesss…” Bruce agreed huskily, his head resting back on his pillow once more as you bucked your hips. His thighs tensed, toes curled, a grunt sounding in his throat as his hips rose to further dig himself inside you.

He couldn’t help it; like a soul to a light he sought you out, your warmth and tightness so snug and comforting around him he didn’t ever want to be apart from you.

You whimpered at the intrusion, nails digging into his skin in a painful sting that Bruce was too fucked out to really notice.

He swallowed hazily below you, eyes closing then opening to look down at the way your pussy molded into one with his hard cock as you rocked gently against him. Deep inside you where he was meant to be, stomach and pelvis and thick thighs soaked with your gushing arousal.

Fire shooting down his legs and tummy with every soft bounce back down on him, illicit wet noises sounding in the room with every desperate grind.

He loved that sound, your wetness mashing with his thick base. But not nearly as much as your melodic sounds gasping out every so often because his cock made you feel that good.

His mouth was terribly dry from his own grunts and moans, handsome face and muscular chest flushed pink, the air so so hot he could feel his own dark hair sticking to the dew on his fevered head.

His hands, big and clammy, dug into the soft fat of your hips to help you dig into him in that way you both liked, the one that had you both gasping hotly into each others mouths as you leaned down to give him another sloppy kiss.

You couldn’t quite get it right though, too distracted by the feel of him so deep inside you that your lips stuttered on his. Moving messily against him as you whined into his mouth once more, the tip of his cock so high up inside you it almost hurt.

He was always so big, so round and tall that the stretch alone always seemed to ache pleasurably with every short thrust he made inside you.

“That’s good, sweetheart… that’s it… just how you know I like it…”

Bruce breathed heavily against your lips from where you were leaned on top of him, naked breasts mashed to his chiseled chest and hands gripping onto the headboard now.

You needed something sturdy, something unbreakable to tether you back to him when you felt the pleasure making you float too far.

His breath was hot against your sore lips, mingled with your low moans and spoken just above the subtle creaks of the bed; sounding every time you moved above him in a sensually quickened pace that had your toes curling and thighs tensing.

“So beautiful, sweetheart, so good…”

Bruce couldn’t help but compliment you even in the most nasty of times, voice clenched yet breathy, spoken through hot breaths and pressed teeth as your wetness dripped down his length once more.

You moaned sweetly at his doting words, his voice cracked and low in that gravelly salacious tone you loved so much.

You clenched around him in response, his fingers tightening on you as he let out a handsome groan from the feeling. You watched as his head sunk into the pillow beneath him, eyes clenched shut and a heavy grunt leaving his chest.

The sight was attractive, seeing him so wrecked from just a few simple back and forth motions you were carefully orchestrating.

You felt a wave of stinging pleasure spike up your thighs and down your legs, up your tummy and into your head until your whole body was tingling. Your eyes brimming with unshed tears as sweat prickled at your skin and your legs burned from sitting for so long.

You didn’t care about the pain, too drunk on the sensations of his thickness rubbing inside the most intimate part of you, your hips rolling in desperate circular motions so he was never completely apart from you. You liked keeping him inside as much as possible, to feel that fullness and that dull burn to remind you of just how big he was.

Bruce loved it too, resting inside your warmth, comfortable, letting you take him however you wanted in whatever way you needed. He was always a giver, always a good husband when you needed him to be.

“F-fuck, Bruce, you feel so good.” You gasped wantonly, voice quiet yet fragmented, needy and breathless as your nails dug into his skin.

“Yeah, honey? It feels good?” Bruce replied just as quietly, being sure to thrust up into you just a little bit harder so you’d gasp some more for him.

It was lewd, lovely, his dirty words spoken onto your quivering lips and his meaty hands gripping your thighs to help aid in your eager movements.

It felt so good, so right, being there with him in the darkness of his room with only the sound of your shared panting and moans filling the silence.

It was hot and perfect; his hands on your thighs gripping hard enough to show you he doesn’t want you to stop, your mouths ever so often pecking together in a sweet kiss you couldn’t continue, fond gazes in darkened irises.

“Feels so good, Bruce, I can’t—“ You whimpered out all cutely, sliding up from his chest until you were sitting straight up once more. You could feel him shift inside of you, hardness still prominent and throbbing. He pressed against your walls, invading every nerve point as your clit rubbed against his naval in the new position.

Bruce gripped the flesh of your ass between his hands, helping your soft rocking motions against him as he spoke, “Yes you can, pretty girl, you always do for me. You’re doing so good, sweetheart, you have no idea…”

The praise made you smile brokenly. Your skin so hot it felt burning yet every grind against your husbands hard cock made your legs go numb. You whined and bucked above him as a tightness started to stretch in your tummy.

“Always for you, baby…” You managed to mumble shakily, lovingly, hands sliding over the abs on his stomach as you sat back on his lap so not a single inch of him wasn’t inside you.

Bruce clenched his jaw at that, hands digging into your hips as he thrust his own up to meet your soft grinds. Sparks, electricity, all of the cliche metaphors for how good he was feeling shooting down his cock and into his legs as his knees tensed up.

He felt lightheaded yet completely grounded, here to his mattress. Floating in the skies yet simultaneously stuck on earth with you, his gorgeous wife who always made him feel sane and normal.

Your hair was tangled around your shoulders and falling over your flushed cheeks as you stared down at him with a fond glimmer in your eyes, bright and burning under the lust so boldly wanting.

The stretch of him inside you was so good, his gravelly moans so good, the way he was making you feel so so good.

You exhaled as you settled your weight down on his pelvis, pussy sore yet eager as you squeezed around him once more. Love struck eyes looking down at him passionately as the moon cascaded a light gray glow behind you.

Bruce felt the air escape his lungs, lips parted as he stared up at you in utter devotion; you were so beautiful, so sweet, felt so fucking good around him he couldn’t even think straight. Brain numb and thoughtless, only you and your perfect pussy, you, you, you.

You took a moment to stare back at him. Unspoken love was whispered in the shadows of your eyes bright and glittering as your movements picked up into polite, subtle bounces that had Bruce digging his hands into you, breathy sounds escaping his lips.

“Ah, Bruce…” You mumbled weakly, voice soft and needy as you tossed your head back and moved your hips up and down so his cock was hitting that sweet spot inside you he usually loved to tease.

“Such a good job, sweetheart, so beautiful like this…” Bruce spoke huskily, staring at your heaving breasts as they jiggled and beckoned him forth, beautiful and pure as you rode him to high heaven in your most organic form.

You hummed into a delicate moan, a smile quirked on your lips at his praise as you felt his hands slowly start crawling up the exposed expanse of your waist.

Warm and big and tender as they moved up, up, gentle fingers tracing over your ribcage as your flesh prickled at the touch. He was delicate, always intent on your pleasure over his as he admired your form above him, the feel of your skin under his textured hands that had hurt so many.

You trusted him, your husband, enough to see you like this. Trusted him enough to have you like this, to allow his bloodstained hands to wash over you like he himself was something pure and untainted, bestowing him your presence like a merciful deity to their promised worshipper.

You bit your lip as his palms enveloped the fat of your breasts into them, molded perfectly into his larger hands as he squeezed and admired them in a fashion so familiar for him; he always loved your breasts, enamored with the softness and weight of them in his greedy hands.

You stared down at him with a heated tenderness, the look of a wife irrevocably in love with their husband as he stared up at you with the same fervor.

When he was here, with you, there were no labels, no obligations and no judgments. With you he was just yours, another body made of flesh and blood and bone melded to yours in the conjunction of where his body ended and yours began.

He was no one but he was your everything, hands on skin and lips on collarbones, sweat amongst sweat and heady moans breathed in the gasps of kisses shared between two lovesick spouses.

In this space, in this moment, with you on top of him and his hands all over you any remnants of shame and Wayne inspired obligation was vacant. All he needed to do was sit and let you take him, sit there and be of use when you wanted to use him.

He was a good husband, the best husband to you, his perfect and lovely wife who never addressed him as anything more than yours. He wasn’t this, he wasn’t that, he was just everything and more in the confines of silken sheets under the safety of his mansion.

No cameras, no gossip, no press and no watchful eyes. Serene, tranquil, just you and him and the great love you shared that transcended any label or common sense humanity could fathom.

Yes, he was Bruce Wayne. Eccentric billionaire, former eligible bachelor, orphan boy, son, rich playboy. But those things did not define him, did not set his reality in stone so easily as your love did. He was all those things but he was so much more.

You never judged him, looked at him as anything more than the most important thing. You regarded him with love no matter his past, his present, and hopefully and most likely your shared future.

You didn’t care for labels or surface value lies like everyone else did. You ripped him at his seams, tore him apart to see what was inside and he was ever so grateful for it, for that loving animosity that bared his soul to yours. You were straightforward, heart to heart or nothing at all because then what was the point?

There was no purpose without pain, without pleasure, without love. You suffered, you loved, and you were most definitely bringing him pleasure. All blunt and raw emotions too passionate and loud to ever try and hide or make lies about. No secrets, no deception, no labels.

This night, every night just like this one — nights spent in your arms deep inside where he needed to be most, were nights where his mind was bare and he was just yours. Nights when he didn’t have to put up a face or make up a lie or tell a tall tale.

He was Bruce, he was yours, he was just this. And most importantly, he was just your husband. The only label that really mattered and the only one he ever really cared about. ₊˚⊹♡

tagging , @little-miss-chaoss , @ghostslillady , @boobaeri , @prayingal

[awearywritersworld]

tell me you don't want me

gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.

however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.

for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.

he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.

"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.

he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."

and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."

after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.

you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.

gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).

"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"

he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."

"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.

he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."

after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.

you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.

"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.

"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."

"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."

you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.

"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.

"not yet."

"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"

"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"

he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"

you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."

"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"

"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"

"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"

his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.

once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.

"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.

you nod eagerly. "yes."

the two of you have never fought before.

well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.

that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.

"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.

the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"

after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.

rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.

why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?

"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"

because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.

he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.

he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.

"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."

"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."

your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.

"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.

his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.

he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"

you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.

one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.

his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.

"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."

and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.

his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.

"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.

your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.

his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."

your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."

"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.

you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.

he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.

his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.

gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."

taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice

[gyuwoncheol]

Slowly; All At Once

Pair: Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: fluff, best friends to lovers with Mingyu, boyfriend material!Mingyu, slight angst.

Summary: Kim Mingyu fell in love with you slowly, but you fell in love with him all at once.

Warnings: short hair Mingyu (yes this deserves a warning. He looks too good), rowdy house party setting, mentions of alcohol, angst (but not with Mingyu), mentions/allusions to a panic attack/sensory overload, kissing, fluff because mingyu is so sweet and protective 😩 Half proofread.

WC: 5k

Author's Note: listen, short hair Mingyu is SO boyfriend coded okay, it just does things to me.

“Gyu?” You spoke as loudly as you could.

“What’s up?” Your best friend answered through a yawn and you would’ve regretted disturbing him so late in the night but you really needed him now.

“Gyu, i’m so sorry..”

Mingyu sat up from his position in bed, the drowsiness in him suddenly gone at the sound of your voice trembling. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his senses heightened, suddenly now hearing the loud music in your background.

“Could.. if you’re free, c-could you come get me?”  

Mingyu was already slipping his shirt on and turning off his tv right after you asked. “Where are you? Are you okay? Are you in danger?” He quizzed, rushing down the stairs to grab his car keys and the hoodie hanging off the hooks.

“I’m at Jamie’s house. So many people, I jus’ wan’go home,” you slurred, stumbling into a corner of the house party you were at.

You could hear the sound of his engine rumbling to a start and somehow, that made you breathe a little easier. That was the thing about your best friend, when you needed him, he would be there, any time, any day, no questions asked. “Ok hang tight. I’ll be there.”

The line went dead as you cowered a little more to the corner of the house party you were at. The more the crowd grew, the more out of place you felt. Sure, most faces were familiar to you as they were the same ones that walked around your school building but no one was really close enough to you. Jamie, herself, was nowhere to be found. You weren't a stranger to house parties, you actually enjoyed them but this one really made you feel like you didn't belong. The crowd was quite rowdy, noise was obnoxiously loud, people were shoving drinks to you left and right, frat boys— both those senior and junior to you— were hitting on you, and, well, the sight of your ex-boyfriend's tongue down your ex-roommate's throat just wasn't exactly what you expected to see tonight. 

You wished you had stayed home instead or spent your Friday night with your best friend watching Shark Tank episodes and talking about all the inventions you both could make and would definitely get invested on. But no, you had begged off from Mingyu this one time, telling him that you wanted to let loose a little bit and hang with some of your girl friends.

The night started fine, you and the girls having cocktails after dinner at a bar nearby, until one of them had all but dragged you guys to the house party a common friend was throwing. What you didn't know was all their boyfriends had already been there, eventually leaving you alone as soon you all walked in the doors. 

You wanted to get out of there but as you looked at the volume of people in front of you, you were sure you wouldn't be able to push through them without getting pushed around. You felt trapped, your breaths becoming shorter whilst you tried to calm your heart. You were in need of air and of water real bad. 

"Hello?" you picked up your phone at first ring.

It was Mingyu. "Where are you?" 

"I-i'm by the end of the hall towards the kitchen at the back." 

Mingyu grimaced at the mixed smell of alcohol, cigarettes, sweat and weed in the place, not to mention the huge crowd that the party had gathered. He spotted numerous acquaintances and friends who all excitedly greeted him, offering him shots and beers but he ignored all of them, brain laser focused at finding you. It took him about five minutes before he reached the hall you were in and immediately spotted you thanks to his height which allowed him a “bird’s eye view.”

"Y/N," you felt a towering presence stumble in front of your crouched position, but was immediately comforted at the owner of the voice. It’s a really good thing you knew his voice well because you were still getting used to his new and much shorter haircut.

"Gyu!" You sighed in relief, hands immediately gripping his forearm as you steadied yourself against him. He kept a protective hand on your waist, caging you in between him and the corner to shield you from the crowd. He noticed the natural blush on your cheeks from the alcohol and the slightly far away look in your eyes. He could tell you weren’t exactly drunk, but he could also read the fear and sadness in them. He gave you a little bit more time to steady your breathing and comfort yourself in his presence, whispering "it's okay's" and "you're alright, I'm here." 

"Gyu, I'm dizzy," you declared. You weren't drunk, just slightly tipsy at most, it was the stuffiness in the room that had you wanting air.

Mingyu glanced back at the amount of people in the hall, mentally mapping the fastest way out to the closest door, before turning back to you. "Y/n,” he cupped your cheek to guide your eyes to his, "We'll make our way out, okay? Hold on to me?" He laid out his large hand for you to take and you gripped it like a vice as you gave him a small nod. 

There are many reasons to be thankful for Mingyu's height and build, and tonight, as he pushed through the crowds with one hand tightly intertwined with yours, was one of them. You were only but a few steps away from the door when your face collided with Mingyu's back. Someone had blocked his way and you were too slow to stop yourself when he did.

"heeey leaving so soon?!" A very familiar but very drunk voice slurred. It was Jung, your asshole of an ex-boyfriend. "You just got here,bro." 

"Not here to party. Just—" 

"Oh come on, Mingyu! At least take a shot!" 

"Yeah!!" another party goer whom you recognize to be from the same frat as Jung cheered on, "In fact why don't you and y/n take a shot together!" Two shot glasses filled to the brim with tequila were suddenly raised at you both. You made a face, hiding yourself behind your best friend’s broad back, hoping it would be enough to make you disappear.

"Y/n!" Jung sang-song in a way that had Mingyu gripping your hands even tighter, "Why don't you take a shot for me, baby? It's still too early to call it a—"

"Don't touch her." Mingyu growled at your ex who was attempting to bypass him and snake an arm around your waist, "Let’s go, y/n" Mingyu pulled at you, desperately hoping to just get the both of you out of there.

As you stumbled past your ex, you yelped when you felt his hand pull on your free wrist, almost yanking you away from Mingyu's hold. "Cmon, baby. Just one more shot. Like old times." A disgusting smirk was plastered on Jung's face, one you wanted to wipe off with a punch.

“I said. Don’t. Touch. Her.” Mingyu repeated louder and firmer this time, pulling your caught wrist and now purposely standing in full height to tower over your drunken ex.

“Gyu, let’s go,” you whisper, noticing that the exchange between both boys have suddenly gained the crowd’s attention.

“Oh come on Mingyu, it’s just a shot!” One of the other guys pushed.

With a roll of his eyes, Mingyu took the shot glass and downed the liquor easily. But it wasn’t until he took the second shot of tequila— supposedly yours— and poured it down his throat that the crowd erupted in cheers. “Happy?” Mingyu sneered at Jung, “now, let us go.” 

“Still her savior, huh?” Your ex called out, making Mingyu freeze in his tracks as he tried to navigate through the crowd, “you still the best friend? Or are you finally the boyfriend now?” 

You felt your breath get caught in your throat at what you just heard. But nothing could have prepared you for the next thing that tumbled out of your best friend’s mouth. 

“So what if I was?” Mingyu looked back at your ex bitterly, eyes filled with anger, “At least I know I’d treat her right.”

You had no chance to see the sour, defeated face Jung sported, but the crowd’s ‘oooh’s’ were enough to let you know that Mingyu definitely had the last laugh in that exchange. Everyone had even made space for you both to successfully exit, not wanting to mess with the 6 foot 2 man. 

Mingyu watched you carefully as you stabilized your breathing, the fresh air paired with the water he had just given you was slowly erasing the dizziness you felt earlier. He had his hands in his pockets while you looked up at him, your back leaning on his car, and a thick silence in the air. You wanted to say something, you wanted to say a lot of things actually, but didn’t know how to start. 

“Here, put this on,” Mingyu said softly, grabbing his hoodie from the back seat and pulling it over your shivering frame since your dress did little to protect you from the cold. You hummed in satisfaction, the warmth of the cotton shielding your exposed skin and the smell of him grounding you even more. 

“Thank you, Gyu. For saving me. And for taking that shot.” You squeaked, looking down at the ground, wanting to say many other things but it’s all you could put together for now. 

Mingyu’s mind however, wandered some place else. Like how you were still so beautiful right now? Looking so tiny in his hoodie, cheeks flushed and your makeup a bit smeared. To him, you were still the prettiest thing his eyes had seen. God he just wanted to kiss you. If only you were in your right mind, no alcohol in your system and not reeling back from what could’ve been a panic attack. And maybe, if only it didn’t ruin the friendship. 

‘I’d die for you,’ is what Mingyu would’ve wanted to say. “Hey, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it… as long as you’re okay. I mean… you are okay, right?” 

He stood closely in front of you, watching intently as you tried to form words but your growing silence did nothing to quell his worries. 

“Y/n,” your best friend’s voice firm, “did something happen back there? Are you hurt? You think your drink got spiked? Did someone harra—“

“No, no!” You confirmed, sensing the agitation in his voice, “nothing happened to me. Was just really overwhelmed with the crowd… the boys were annoying, the girls left me, and I… i didn’t even know Jung was dating Cass now.”

Ah, there it is, Mingyu thought. It always has something to do with your stupid ex.

“Cass? Your ex roommate, Cass?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Dating or not, they were definitely making out,” Mingyu could hear both the pain and disgust in your voice, “i just don’t get it.” Yeah, neither does Mingyu, why were you still so hung up on this— 

“I’m over him, you know?” 

“What?” Mingyu looked at you so quickly, he might’ve gotten a whiplash 

“I’m over him.” You confirmed and Mingyu would be lying if he said he didn’t want to just jump in joy right there and then. But your face still looked sour, angry even, like you had just been forced to chew on a whole lemon. “I realise now I was such an idiot for even loving him. But Cass? Really? My ex-roommate? I don’t know.. I know we’ve broken up months ago but it just feels weird. She knew how much he hurt me.. she even wanted to, and I quote, ‘stab him in the gym,’ but now she’s practically dry humping him in the middle of the worst house party known to man?!” You frustrated, your voice reaching a higher pitch than you had expected only to fall down to a very quiet whisper, “i just… I can’t help but feel betrayed.”

Mingyu noticed a lone tear roll down your cheek, the back of your hand immediately wiping it away. He knew how close you were to Cass, he still remembers how you cried to him when she suddenly cut off communication with you and moved out of your apartment. For the longest time, you had thought you did something wrong and had beaten yourself up over it. But now it all just made sense. 

Your best friend pulled you in for an embrace, mumbling about how you deserve better and how he’s sorry this happened to you.

“God,” you scoffed, “i’m sorry, i’m such a loser… everything about tonight just makes me feel so… alone.” 

“Hey now!” Mingyu pulled back harshly, holding you firmly by the shoulders, an arms length distance between you both. “I take offense to that. I’m literally right here, you know.” 

“Exactly. When you really could’ve been sleeping peacefully, or maybe even be on a date with some pretty girl. Instead you’re here, rescuing your pathetic excuse of a best friend.”

“Well.. you know what?” Mingyu challenged, pulling you in again into his arms for a warm hug, “there’s nowhere else i’d rather be. Now let’s get you home, yeah?” He assured instead, opening the door to the passenger seat of his car. You slumped into the seat and Mingyu went as far as strapping your seat belt for you, your lips just mere centimeters away from his. He stopped to look at you, eyes scanning yours before dropping to your lips momentarily and then back to your eyes again. You could feel the tension in the air and you didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until he finally moved away and closed the door gently. 

Mingyu couldn’t help but notice a few tears escaping you as you looked out the car window, lone tears slowly falling on your cheek. You couldn’t really shake the idea from your brain of your roommate and your ex getting together, the betrayal just squeezing your heart in pain. Maybe the alcohol also just heightened your sensitivity too. When the car stopped at a red light, a gentle squeeze on your left hand had you looking up to your best friend, soft eyes matching yours as he flashed you a lopsided smile. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. You knew his action was that of comfort, as if to tell you you weren’t alone. 

Mingyu kept his hand tightly on yours throughout the ride, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand and that small action really helped keep the sad thoughts away. It wasn’t until you reached the exit of the freeway when you noticed Mingyu suddenly take a left turn. 

“Where are we going?” You squeaked

“Mine,” Mingyu confirmed, “is that ok? I just don’t wanna leave you alone for now, and i don’t think the sight of Cass’s empty room is something you’re ready to see either.”

You pondered on his suggestion quickly and knew it made sense. If anything, your best friend’s comforting presence is exactly what you needed right now.

The moment you got to his place, everything was like clockwork. He let you shower and freshen up, then handed you one of his large shirts and one of your old shorts you kept at his place for sleepover nights like these. 

A bottle of water was left by the bathroom door when you had finished. Drink this all before you go back down, Mingyu had written in a note and you cooed at the thoughtfulness of your best friend.  As you got to changing, you couldn’t help but notice just how much comfort his place brought you. His bedroom— and the rest of the apartment— was littered with photos of the both of you through the years. Your favorite conditioner was in his bathroom. He had a little basket in his closet that had things for you— hair brush, your favorite makeup remover, a few of your skin care items (which he bought himself), some old clothes, and even sanitary pads. You smiled at the sight of the little disney nightlight he had bought especially for you last year because even though he liked his lights off when he sleeps, he knew you hated the dark. You knew he kept some of your favorite snacks in his pantry, and he always had a pint of your favorite ice cream in his freezer. You were grinning by the time you had thought of all these things. You were feeling way too giddy and and then it hit you, those are butterflies you feel in your stomach. You felt like a tidal wave just hit you, your brain suddenly replaying every encounter with Mingyu and the longer it went on, the more you felt your heart being squeezed. You’re reminded how he didn’t even hesitate to pick you up tonight, or take that shot for you, or how he might’ve just thrown a punch at Jung if he so much laid another finger on you. You remember the tension in the car when your lips were inches apart. Yup, definitely butterflies. You simultaneously cursed yourself for not seeing it sooner. For not feeling it sooner. Do best friends really go this far? Could Kim Mingyu be in love with you? Better yet, did you just fall in love with him? There’s no way. Right? Mingyu was simply a really nice guy, and he would be especially kind to you, his best friend, and you are just very, very appreciative of it.

Yeah, just best friends.

That’s all.

So why do you suddenly want it to be more? 

Mingyu, on the other hand, was a ball of nerves in his living room. The events of tonight made him feel like he might not be able to hold back his feelings any longer. Seeing you tonight, your helpless self in such a huge crowd of people and then silently crying in the car just awakened something in him, like a very strong urge to protect you and embrace you in so much love that you won't ever remember the feeling of being hurt. He loves you very much, for quite some time now actually, and not just in the best friend kind anymore, he knows that much. But he can't quite figure out when it happened. There was no specific moment or grand gesture that made him think "i'm in love with my best friend." Your friendship certainly began platonic, no hidden intentions or attraction. It started when both your chaotic selves ended up paired for a group work in freshman year and you just haven't been separated since then. Over time, he's unconsciously made more space for you in his heart. What started as him giving you food every now and then so you could test his culinary experiments eventually turned into packed meals every Tuesdays and Thursdays when your classes stretched until 8 in the evening. He began omitting mustard in the dishes he cooks for you because of your allergy, even though he personally loves it. He once helped you do groceries and noticed you liked to buy your juices and milks in large cartons, and so he eventually scheduled his grocery days the same as yours so you wouldn't have to carry everything by yourself. You brought out the best in him. He witnessed your thoughtfulness and kindness and that made him want to be a better person for himself. One day, when he cracked a lame joke, he realised nothing sounds sweeter than your laugh. Mingyu always listened to you, even when you spoke nonsense most times. Your crazy ideas were something he questioned a lot before but now it's what makes him laugh the most. Kim Mingyu fell in love with you slowly, he never stopped himself from it because he's learned it was simply impossible. The joy you brought to his life was unexplainable. So he just let it happen, but he'd never tell you that, not when it could mean losing the single most important person in his life. But tonight, it seemed his heart was bursting at the seams and he wasn't so sure how long he could control his mouth from vomiting the words. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have you sleep over tonight. 

"Gyu? you good?" you asked, sitting beside him and getting under the same throw he had placed over him. He looked so soft and cuddly in his dark gray sweatshirt he changed into. God, he looked every bit of boyfriend right now.

"Huh?" 

"You were spaced out," you giggled

"Oh. Yeah, i'm ok, just waiting for you… Was the shower ok? Did you drink your water?" 

You nodded and pointed to the empty water bottle you had placed on the coffee table in front of you, "I'm alright, Gyu. Tired but feeling much better." You punctuated your words with a small thank you and a kiss on his cheek and Mingyu tensed. The scent of your shampoo washed over him and even though it was only a few seconds, it's like he could still feel your lips on his cheek. You saw his eyes grow wide and his shoulders slightly square up but whatever it was, he chose to stay silent. 

"okay!" he announced, trying to break the awkwardness he was feeling. "movie?" 

"about that... could we... maybe talk first?" 

An ice bucket might as well have been thrown on top of Mingyu's head, either that or have the ground open up to swallow him whole. He seriously might not keep his feelings at bay this time around. "uhhh... a-about what?"

"About what happened in the party." 

"Oh," your best friend relaxed a little, "I thought you were fine? You said no one hurt you right? I mean, of course aside from seeing Cass and—" 

"Gyu," you interrupted him with a hand on his forearm, turning to the side so you could face him, "I don't mean that."

"Then what?" 

"About what you said to Jung," your voice barely above a whisper, "about being my boyfriend..." 

At that very moment, the both of you paused, the same thought in your brains: will my heart actually start beating out my chest?

"Oh. What about it?" Mingyu played it off and you gulped hard, maybe you shouldn't have brought it up. You normally thought you could see right through your best friend, but this time, he seemed so nonchalant about it all and if you were being honest, it broke your heart a little. 

The tanned boy waited for your answer, eyes holding a glint of fear as he watched you look at everything else in the room except his gaze, "I just... I don't know. You said if you were my boyfriend, then you'd be treating me right." 

"I would." Mingyu responded a little too fast, making your eyes find his immediately. He cursed himself for the lack of self control, now literally biting his tongue to stop from spilling the rest of his feelings.

"Then am I crazy for thinking that... that all you've done tonight was treat me right?" 

You watched your best friend swallow hard, eyes boring into your soul. You waited in bated breath for a response but Mingyu opened his mouth only to close it, and then open again. Mingyu steels himself, genuinely wanting to run away from the conversation. If he spoke any further, he just knows he'd lose his best friend and get his heart broken, so he chooses to point out the obvious instead. "Well, you are my best friend."

"is that all you want me to be?" There it goes. The million dollar question. It's now or never, Kim Mingyu, he hears the subconscious in his brain. He could feel the sweat on his back, his hands fidgeting under the throw.  Mingyu was not fond of how straightforward you were being. It's like you were ready to catch him red-handed and then tell him to start acting like a bestfriend instead of some love-sick puppy, or worse, stay away from you altogether. This is it. The end of a friendship he so carefully protected even if it meant it will never be more. 

"What do you mean?" He croaked, his throat feeling drier more than ever. Oh, if only Mingyu knew just how nervous you were too. 

You closed your eyes shut, inhaling sharply to muster up some confidence as you carefully place your heart on your sleeve.

“Because I look at your place and your life, and though I see a lot of you in it, I see me too. Pictures of us, my favorite food always in your kitchen, my number in your speed dial. I think about the past and all that you've done for me, laughing at the stupid shapes I think the clouds are forming, listening to me vent about all my frustrations, holding me when i cry about a broken heart, you’re there. You're always where I am. And it might have taken me long to realize this, but maybe you do love me more than just your bestfriend. And I just I hope i'm not too late to tell you that when I think about all of it, it hits me like a truck that I'm in love with you too."

If Mingyu was deaf, then everything you just said is probably the one thing that would help him regain his hearing. Every single word was loud and clear, your last sentence obnoxiously ringing in his ears, yet all this six foot something man could reply was an awkward “huh?”

You blinked hard at his dumbfounded expression, the back of your eyes immediately stinging with tears. Your efforts of confessing dying together with your heart. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks in embarrassment, hands flying to cover your face because wow, you seriously just misread the whole thing. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I- i must’ve misread. For—forget I said anything.” You mumbled, your voice shaking towards the end.

“No, no!” Mingyu panicked, his large hands prying yours away from your face and then cupping your cheeks, “i’m sorry. I love you. I heard you, loud and clear. And I love you, more than just a best friend. I’m so in love with you, have been for a while now.” He inched closer to you, the shyest smile on his face.

His eyes glanced at your lips before looking back at you again, asking softly, “Can I?”

With a small nod, he slotted his lips to yours and you immediately hummed in relief. Your eyes fluttering close with how gentle he was. His lips were slightly chapped but they were so pillowy against yours.

“I love you,” Mingyu mumbled in between a kiss, not being able to contain the smile that was breaking on his face. He swore he saw fireworks explode, his stomach churning in the best way possible.

“I love you too,” you responded as you broke apart for air. Both your eyes were twinkling, pure happiness just flowing through your veins.

He couldn’t quite believe it. Just moments ago, he was certain he’d end the night without a best friend. “Could you say that again?” He asked shyly, and if you weren’t just so whipped for the man, you wouldn’t have indulged him.

You climbed onto his lap, grinning as you placed your hands by the sides of his face. “I love you, Kim Mingyu. I’m so in love with you,” you obliged, peppering kisses on his cheeks and nose and lips.

Mingyu let out that tiny giggle he does when he’s really happy, the crinkles in his eyes appearing and his canines showing. “I love you,” you said one more time before properly latching onto his lips again. This time, your kiss was slightly deeper. He continued to mumble i love you’s to you in between before finally slipping his tongue into your mouth. Mingyu let out a low hum of sayisfaction when he felt you run your fingers through his short hair. His large hand stayed firm on the small of your back while the other was on your neck, making sure you couldn’t pull away too far or too fast, not that he should worry, the warmth of his body alone was already drawing you impossibly closer to him.

You rested your forehead on his when you broke apart the second time, matching grins on your faces as your eyes looked deeply at each other.

“You scared me, you know?” You scowled out of nowhere, your fist hitting his chest playfully.

“What?”

“I thought I really misread. Thought you didn’t actually love me.” The pout that appeared on your face was one Mingyu had seen before, but this time around, it pulled at his heartstrings even harder.

“Well I thought you saw right through me and didn’t want any of it. Thought you wanted to stop being best friends even.”

You raised a brow at him, tilting your head to the side slightly, “well now you’re not just my best friend, you’re also my boyfriend.”

The squeal that came out of Mingyu’s mouth was definitely one you wouldn’t expect from someone as large as him, but you loved it nonetheless, even though he paired it with a bone crushing hug that had your face uncomfortably smushed on his hard chest.

“G-gyu… c-can’t br-breathe.”

“Oh sorry,” he pulled back, still giggling from the thought of being called your boyfriend. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this happy before and it makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter even harder.

You felt soft lips on your forehead, another “I love you” rolling past Mingyu’s mouth.

You responded back with the same three words, allowing yourself to look into his eyes intently, marking this important moment in your brain. You’ve heard of best friends falling in love and then falling out of love, the friendship sinking together with it. You knew there was no certainty that you and Mingyu wouldn’t meet that same fate, and it scared you for sure. But there was something about being in your best friend-now-boyfriend’s arms that just felt right. Like you were home. And somehow, that was more than enough to take away all the fears. It took a while, but you’ve never been more sure of something than you are now of loving Mingyu.

“So… we’re really doing this?” Mingyu asked as he tucked your hair behind your ear. You looked beautiful with the light pink that dusted your cheeks and the deeper crimson on your slightly swollen lips.

“As long as it’s with you.”

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THE BOYS

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n originally a one-shot, but I couldn’t help myself and wrote some more!

Part 1 [Part 2]

-> <-

Your heart sinks into the deepest pits of your chest. The tiny inconspicuous hole where no one would ever look. Your spirit lies under the earth, while Eddie lies bricks instead of dirt across your corpse. A quite violent death you have taken on.

“Are you still with us?” Gareth waves a hand in front of your face. Grease slips between his fingers from his two day old burger that your school pretends was freshly slapped on a grill that morning.

You squirm. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Eddie says you could come to practice,” he throws his hand up. “You’re one of the boys!”

Right.

Like someone had thrown water across your face, you slide theatrically to the floor in a puddle of you. Theatrically speaking - of course.

The lunchroom chatter dies in the back of your head like you just did a moment ago. You excuse yourself from the group, while claiming that you have forgotten your exam in the next class period and you should really put in at least a few moments of study time.

Your few moments are actually spent stowing yourself away in the ladies room.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe he asked you out!” A girl squeals. “What are you going to wear? Tell me everything!”

You had stopped your self doubting and your eternally ill fading romantic imaginations you came up with while you stare at the dull gaze in your eye behind the dirty spotted bathroom mirror. You should focus on your studies anyway. Failing your senior year of high school, again, was not on your list of to-do's.

Then again, the two girls gossiping were very pretty. You took notes. Hair full and down to her chest in length. The kind of hair Texas wishes they had. Cheeks were plump, and dusted pink with some powder of sorts. Full lips covered in sweet strawberry gloss. You can smell their gloss from just a sink away. That, or perhaps that was their perfume. Sweet and feminine.

“I'm sorry,” one of them notices you staring, while she applies a thick coat of her lip-gloss. 'Strawberry Dream' is what the little label on the tube reads. “Are we being loud?”

“No, no,” you shake your head.

“Okay,” she sings awkwardly, before continuing the conversation her friend had started. “Anyway, Josie, I think we should go shopping for a new outfit. Oh! I - so - need a new gloss. Something sexy!”

“Sexy?” You accidentally slip the words, before you could stop yourself.

The girl cocks her head. “Do you usually eavesdrop?”

Not that they weren’t talking in front of her.

“My bad,” you tug at the ends of your t-shirt. “Erm- you’re trying to impress this boy?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “Do you have some sort of advice?”

Looking you up and down, she spots the stains from your lunch at your chest. Trying not to snort and jeer at your expense, she waits for you to respond. Her cocky tight lipped smile says enough.

“Actually,” you reply. “I- Why don’t you try being yourself? He clearly likes you to ask you out, so maybe you could tone it down?”

“Tone it down?” She frowns. “Like you? Tell me er- girl of some sort- how many dates have you gotten with that fresh out of bed look you wear every single day. You look like a shy boy. Yeah, I see you around. You’re small like a shrimp. You need to be shark in these waters or your going to get your head bitten off. Put on a bra. A low cut top. And, maybe some blush to hide that dead corpse face you wear-,”

“It’s my skin-,”

“When you get a date, then you get an opinion. Got it?”

“Got it,” you zip your lips. What a bitch.

-> <-

Practice, as the group of men slamming poorly synchronized chords together, is held at Gareth’s garage promptly after school. You did not participate in the noise, but rather you sit in a lawn chair onlooking. Fanning yourself with your hands, sweat glistens across your skin like armor.

Your friends finish their set. Eyes on you, you cheer for their noise that will surely draw eyes from the neighborhood. Someone will be by soon to tell the boys to quiet their racket, and to perhaps indulge themselves in a new activity like reading a book. The Book, perhaps.

“You’re getting better,” you propose promisingly.

Eddie nudges your shoulder with a fist on his way to the cooler to grab a cold soda. You pretend like your heart didn’t just stop inside of your chest.

“I told you, guys,” Eddie has been raving to his band mates (and occasional D&D players) that you, his B.F.F., wasn’t going to ruin practice. That just because you might have a new rack and hips hidden underneath this t-shirt wasn’t going to change any dynamic within the group.

They all agreed about this while staring at your ever growing chest and hips. You cover your chest again, before speaking out of turn.

“Are you ever going to preform these songs?” You ask the group.

Eddie’s plush lips touch the bottle his soda came in. Condensation from the glass dripped across his chin and down his neck to the exposed flesh of his chest.

And, they were so worried about you “developing.” Here you are, eyeballing your best friend like you haven’t ever seen him before. Suddenly, you woke up one morning and you were obsessed with him!

It isn’t like that at all. You didn’t know when you began having feelings for your best friend. Somewhere between living next to each other in the trailer park. Sneaking out after your curfew to splash in Lovers Lake (Eddie’s favorite way to wash off his worries). And, the times you tripped over your own clumsiness when Eddie was the first to rescue you. You might have just fallen into his eyes you stared at them so long. Maybe- maybe that’s when something changed.

No more boys and girls - there are men and women. High school changes us - all of us. There’s science behind it all, you suppose. You took health courses, but no scientific explanation could bring you to figure out how you were completely enamored by your best friend.

Your best friend, who is sweating underneath the heat of the garage. Finding himself without options, he strips his shirt.

“Hold this for me,” he says like there’s no issue. Because there was no issue for him, you’re alone in your feelings. Classic.

“Sure,” you fold his shirt up in your lap, while resisting the urge to inhale his scent like a trained dog trying to find a missing person. Or, like an addict getting their fix for the first time in days.

“And, yes,” Eddie announces, before slamming down a new chord. “Come watch us at the Hideout!”

“Really?!”

“Sure,” Gareth speaks for his friend. “If you want.”

“I’ll come,” you ask, “What time?”

“We’ll start setting up around six in the evening, but we’re not set to play until seven,” Eddie explains to you. “Friday.”

You nod. “I’ll be there!”

“Oh, Eddie!” Gareth grabs his attention. “You gonna bring Roxie?”

Roxie Martin? Now, she’s a hot pair of tits in a mini skirt. Full scarlet lips, Rockin’ Roxie, as some people called her, was a She Devil in human skin. Sinking her teeth into her pray, she poisons them with feminine venom. She doesn’t even have to sing them a tune, for men will follow her into the depths of the vast blue ocean without question.

Some just thought she was a slut in heels, though.

Whatever story floats.

Eddie strums a sour note.

“Dude, I’m just teasing,” his friend snickers.

Eddie scolds his friend, then the group of boys begin to slam on their instruments some more.

You sat there for hours watching Eddie slobber over his guitar. Sweat glistened down across his skin. His fingers striking each chord by heart as he did every night. Touching the strings expertly with the tips of his cherry red fingers. He begun feeling sore towards the end of the night, and the guys agree that it would probably be a good opportunity to turn in for the night.

Practice would resume tomorrow.

And you were forever and eternally frustrated.

-> <-

“Robin,” you slouched over the clear candy bowl labeled ‘Free.’ “I need to be a girl.”

Robin jabs away at the keypad of the store computer that is clearly frozen. While she might be renting out videos to people, Robin’s shit with technology.

That gave her more time to ignore her responsibilities, however, and acknowledges to your moping. With an arched brow, she sucks in her lips and she lets them go with a loud pop.

“You are a girl,” she states the obvious, while appearing to look down at your chest. “Or- so I think.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you stuff more candy into your mouth like a starved squirrel just coming out from hibernation. Squirrels hibernate, don’t they? Whatever.

“What ever could you possibly mean?” She props herself up onto her elbows.

There was a time when you were a child that a mean boy kicked dirt on you at the playground. Swooping in like your knight in shining armor, Eddie came to you to brush the dirt from your clothes and to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Feeling outcasted, Eddie surrounded himself in the weaker kids. The kids that enjoy recess sitting on the brick wall of their school, or close by the door to wait for your teachers to let you back inside.

You read books with him during quiet reading because he didn’t know how to keep the letters from mixing together. Eddie would apologize for his hair being frizzy, and all over the place. You thought he was funny looking like that.

Sometimes you wish you could go back to the good old days where your heart didn’t sing in your chest whenever your childhood best friend was near. You wish the aching in your bones would sooth itself instead of feeling fuzzy every time Eddie greeted you at a whisper from behind. That his strong hand touching you like a doll would become friendly again, and less like you want to shove him against the lockers to kiss his pretty face.

You knew better.

Yet, here you are.

Say it had something to do with what happened yesterday. Roxie’s sexy. You want her sexy. Not her. But, just the sexy. And, whoever was in the bathroom was right. You’re much more than a baggy t-shirt and a pair of denim on your legs. You grew up during the summer, and so what if you want to show off a bit. You earned your assets.

“I can’t tell you,” you put out there for Robin to read. “You’ll blab to Steve, and Steve will tell- doesn’t matter.”

You wait for her to speak, but Robin never does. She blinks at you.

“There’s this boy-,”

“A boy?!” Her voice echoes against the furthest most walls.

You wave your hands. “Robin!”

“Go on!”

“I just - I want to grow up a little.”

The jangle of the front door opening broke their conversation apart. There was nothing elegant about Eddie Munson. He slammed his jacket into the stand of desperately rentable tapes. The display wobbled. Swiveled. And, slammed into the floor. The video tapes splattered.

“Dude!” Robin huffs. “I just put those up!”

Eddie scrambles to rescue the mess. “My bad, Robs. You know? You might not want to put these right in front of the walkway. ‘Could get knocked over - see?”

Robin knew Eddie from class. Smart mouth guy with a lot to say about literature. He held a lot in his head, but once he got to a piece of paper, he could just go.

“The usual, Eddie?”

Oh, and he also rented out the same tape once a week for the past three weeks. It was a Rated R film that had a single one minute scene of a nude woman on top of a man she was suffocating. Not with her boobs- with his belt.

Robin snaps back into reality.

“Eh, looking for something new,” he fixed the display, before joining the girls at the register. “Suggestions?”

Robin slams her palm against the monitor. “Stupid thing is still frozen. Oh! Did you hear your little pal has a crush on a boy?”

“Robin!” You cringe. Turning into the wallpaper sounds really nice right about now. Hell, you’ll fix that computer if it gets Robin off the topic of you.

Anyone, she can blab to anyone, but Eddie. Where was Steve when you needed him? Oh, you are so screwed!

“What? It’s just Eddie!”

Just Eddie - yeah, Robin, that’s the problem.

“A crush? On who?” Eddie scoffs out loud.

Your jaw goes agape. “Are you saying I can’t have a crush on someone?”

“No, I just- you’re one of the guys!”

“She can’t be one of the guys forever,” Robin defends you. Perhaps she saw you twitch. “She’s a girl underneath those stains.”

You brush your dirty t-shirt.

“Robin-,”

“What? Whoever this boy is, he’s shit out of luck if he doesn’t see what we all see,” your friend continues.

Eddie teeters his balance back and forth on each foot.

“I’m going to go look for a movie,” he says.

Robin ignores him shuffling into the isles. “I’m just saying if he doesn’t like you back that is his loss. Right?”

You peak around for any sight of Eddie. His frizzy mane is locked onto a movie in the farthest isle.

“Oh my god,” Robin follows your gaze. “Oh my god! This is big- no, huge- I can’t believe before my eyes your friends to lovers trope-,”

“Robin! Hush!” You whisper at a much louder volume than you anticipate.

Yet, here comes Eddie back to the counter without a film in hand. Robin shoots you a glance that screams that she’s about to burst like a toddler who has to pee, but they can’t get their overalls off.

“Can’t find anything?” Robin intertwined her fingers in front of her.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie sighs.

The sound that came from Robin’s lips could have been the earth splitting in two, and trying to suck her in or the angels above calling her back to heaven. She’s a bit eccentric.

Oh, God, you think she’s plotting.

“Actually,” she settles. “I have a film back here that we haven’t set out on shelves yet.”

“Is it a romance?” He guesses purely based on the actors gazing longingly on the front cover. “Robin, I don’t do romance.”

“Obviously,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “Anyway, this is a mystery. Hm? You know? Like clues and shit.”

“Clues and shit?”

“Maybe,” you signal ‘no’ to Robin, but she blatantly ignores you, “you two can watch it together. Hm? Solve the mystery, before the show ends? Let me know what you think!”

“Robin-,” Eddie begins, but Robin is already scanning the tape to rent out.

“It’ll be fun!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll see you around six for a movie night like old times?”

You mask your embarrassment. Nodding in a set agreement, Eddie left with the film still eyeing the cover like it had just insulted him.

“How could you do that?” You shame her.

Robin shrugs her shoulders, while dancing behind the counter like a relationship fairy.

“Oh! You’ll need something to wear by then!” She shouts to her coworker. “Steve! I’m not feeling well! Will you be okay for the rest of the day?!”

“Ah ha,” Steve appears like he’s been waiting for permission to enter the conversation. “You’re not leaving me here by myself!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you,” she points to her ear, as she’s setting her jacket over her shoulders. “Ear ache.”

“Robin!”

“Huh? Oh, thank you!” She shuffles herself and you out the front door.

Warm air meets you outside. Although you wished to take off another layer, you felt practically naked as is. Cotton blend shirts were thick in these spring days. The same could be said for your denim jeans.

“Won’t he be mad?” You ask.

Robin snorts. “Steve? No.”

No explanation given - no explanation necessary. Robin and Steve were like a pair of siblings at most times. Although, knowing Steve had a thing for Robin at some point made the analogy much creepier than it should have been.

You drive yourself and Robin back to your home where your family was not. They’re out of town for the whole week doing an anniversary trip. Figuring your of the age to take care of yourself, they’ve left you by yourself with only the responsibility of keeping the home clean.

“What are we looking for?” You sit on your made bed hugging one of your pillows to your chest, while Robin riffles through your closet.

Robin shoves another dress across the hanger to the disapproved pile. Her grunts and sighs are discouraging as is, but rather her blatant disregard that you like some of those clothes is hurting even more. Or, maybe you like those clothes. You haven’t gone shopping in a while.

“Do you own anything that isn’t from Forever 40?” She jokes heartily.

You tilt your head to one side. “I like my clothes.”

“Well, we don’t have time for shopping,” she scans around your room for something. Jostling your clean laundry, your papers across your desk and the drawers under them - she finally lets out an, “Ah, ha!”

You groan. “Are you going to clean your mess?”

Clearly ignoring you, Robin holds up a sharpened pair of scissors like a magic wand. Holding one of your plain shirts in the air, she begins slicing away at every angle.

“Hey!” You protest.

She pauses. “Right, put it on.”

“Rob, that’s my favorite shirt!”

“I’ll buy you another one,” she shoves your head through the hole, and continues sniping at the edges. Fondling your chest, she measures where the top of your breast lies. “Hey! Your the first woman to let me touch their boobs. Congrats!”

You laugh at this. “Robin, as your friend, you can touch my boobs any time you need a fix.”

“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she jokes back. With one more snip, she steps away from you. “You have any skirts? No, of course you don’t. Jeans will have to do.”

You couldn’t hear Robin’s tangent. In the standing mirror hung on your wall, you saw someone new. Surely, she moves when you move. Her chest bounces while she breathes. That tan from the summer on the beach is touching her skin in a most devilish manor. You hold your chin a bit higher seeing what a few snips from craft scissors will do.

“Makeup!” Robin insists.

Pink rouge presses into your cheekbones. Those cheekbones you earned from your grandmother. That’s always the compliment your mother spoke. And, mascara coated thickly across your eyelashes. Your lashes are rather short, but with that black mascara you were seeing yourself glow with confidence.

Lip gloss that tasted like honey-

“In case you’re kissing any boys tonight,” she clicks the tube together with the wand. “My dear, you’re ready.”

You take a spin in the mirror.

“I hardly recognize myself,” you touch your hair.

Robin slaps your hand away. “Don’t mess that up, before Eddie gets here. Oh! And, look at the time, I should go.”

You’re left by yourself for another hour. Twiddling your thumbs, and checking your makeup by the minute. Eventually, you pop popcorn in the microwave and place the bowl in the center of the coffee table in the living room. You twist the bowl around, so you can’t see the chip on the side from when you dropped the bowl a few years ago.

Tapping your foot against the plush carpet beneath your feet, you travel between worlds where you feel ridiculous for dressing up like this, but you also feel hot.

Denim cuts at your waist, and you begin to doubt wearing jeans instead of pajamas. You never wore jeans after you got home. Eddie will surely know what’s up.

You have no time to change your mind because the doorbell rings through the quiet house. Stillness - as if moving would threaten your life somehow. Then, again, the doorbell sings.

You drag the sweat from your hands onto the back of your jeans. Jeans that you should have changed to shorts. He’ll see right through your ruse!

You settle your nerves with one more glance over in the mirror in your little entryway. When you open the front door, Eddie’s tickling the lavender your mom set out on the front porch last week.

“What? Your shirt go through a lawnmower?” Was the first thing he says.

You knew it.

“Erm-,”

“I brought the movie, and beer,” he held up the movie and a six pack he snaked off of his uncle. “Come on, I’m freezing out here.”

Eddie doesn’t ask where anything is. He’s been here so many times before, birthdays, holidays and any time your mother has just come back from the supermarket with “the good snacks.”

You knew each other for some time, which is probably why he’s never going to see you as someone other than his best friend. Why would you think about that? You had a shot, right?

“I popped popcorn,” you pointed in the living room.

“Sick,” he drops down into your couch. “We can go ahead and start the movie - the guys will be here soon.”

“The guys?” You blurt.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “Like old times?”

“Right,” the light in your eye fades, and you just hope Eddie can’t sense the hesitance in your tone.

In the next hour, your quiet date night that had been set up by your overly optimistic friend, swirls in the direction that it is always meant to be. You squish into the couch arm rest, while Gareth battles Eddie over the movie choice. Although, this time the boys came to an agreement that this was not an action movie like Robin promised Eddie earlier.

“Where’s the gore?!” Gareth flings popcorn at the television screen. “Throw her off the ledge!”

“You want to see an innocent woman flung to her death?” You snap at him.

A piece of popcorn drops from Gareth’s mouth, and into his awaiting lap. You didn’t come to raising your tone with the boys unless something truly bothers you. Clearly, by the tightness in your chest, some of the anger spills over the edge. Quite like the woman dangling the man’s waist.

“Never mind,” you stand. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”

Taking the bowl from Eddie, you stow away in the comfort of your kitchen. Before your mother left for her trip, a folded note stacked on the island told you to not bring anyone over. But, if you are going to have boys over, she asks that you use protection. She has a wild imagination if she thinks her daughter has a sex life.

She must have passed this onto you. You toss yourself at someone, who obviously holds no similar feelings as you do. This whole night was a bust. Your eyes itch from the mascara. Your lips bled from when you chewed on them like they’re your last meal. At least the color matches with your lip gloss that you reapplied many times in the bathroom when you need a break from the crowd in your living room. And, you can’t feel your waist anymore. Tingling below the belt - and for all the wrong reasons.

“You okay?” Gareth’s voice startles you.

You spin around, and he’s there standing where the carpet meets the linoleum.

A yell from the living room suggests something mortifying must have happened in the film like the boy finally kissing the girl, or perhaps saying something romantic.

“Yeah,” you blink. “Just- making more popcorn.”

Gareth doesn’t say anything about the popcorn bags sitting on the counter next to him, but the room reads itself. You scamper over to the bag, before ripping the plastic and the bag apart by accident sending kernels across the floor. Gareth meets you at the floor below.

“Shit,” you sniff. “I’ll get the broom.”

“Hey,” he grabs your arm, before you can run off again. “What’s going on?”

You sit next to the mess on the floor letting out a gust of air from your lungs that you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

“It’s stupid,” you tell him.

Gareth moves a piece of your hair from in front of your face. “What?”

You look at him for the first time. Between you two, you didn’t have to say a word he didn’t already know. Because while you’re chasing Eddie, Gareth’s warm heart is following after you. You’re blind to him before.

“Eddie’s not going to like me back, is he?” You whisper at an almost inaudible volume. Dabbing at your eye, you wipe the single tear threatening to break the damn.

Gareth sits next to you with his arms wrapped around his knees.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think he just hasn’t woken up yet. He does talk about you a lot when your not around.”

“Really?”

“You scare him,” Gareth lets out a breathy laugh. “In a good way. He- he’s never had someone to rely on in his life besides his uncle. And, if what Eddie says is true, you’ll never truly change to please anyone. You’re loyal, and your funny. You’re beyond beautiful. The Goddesses shrivel in your light-.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“Okay, I might have added that last part,” he admits. “But, you never know if you don’t try.”

You reach out for his hand. “Thank you, Gareth.”

He squeezes your hand. “Anytime.”

You say. “And I- I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Erm- you know.”

“I guess I do,” he looks away. “I’ll be fine.”

You toss a popcorn kernel Gareth’s direction hoping to lighten the mood. Gareth snorts and tosses one back.

“We should clean up,” you tell him.

Gareth agrees. “Oh, and - when I said you don’t change, I meant it.”

You pull at your half shirt. “Yeah, I don’t think this is me. Everyone just kept telling me to stop dressing like a boy.”

“Trust me,” Gareth suggests. “You do not look like a boy.”

“Oh, shut up,” you gather yourself on your own two feet. “I don’t know - I kind of like the look, but maybe tone it down a bit?”

“I’ll get the broom,” Gareth says leaving your question unanswered. "Oh, and I promise to keep myself and the guys out of your way the next time Eddie suggests we all have a 'movie night'" at your house."

"You caught onto that?"

"It's a classic move," he sweeps. "I can't say I wasn't going to try it on you some day."

"Well, I'm sorry that it won’t work out between us," you assure him.

"I'll survive," he won’t really look at you now, only at the task at hand. "Besides, I know how great of a guy Eddie is. If you do go out with him, there’s no hard feelings."

Gareth sweeps every last kernel from the floor, then uses the dust pan to scoop them up and finally tosses them into the bin. By the time he's done scoping out every inch of your floor, you're done popping a new bag of popcorn.

The movie night continues without a hitch (aside from the merciless damning of the film coming from each of the boys in your home). Your eye on the one man, who could never look at you the way you do him. But, you don't know that for sure.

Because, as soon as you look away, Eddie's full attention is on you.