#the flop show that never ends <3< /div>
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pritvolny · 2 years ago
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happy 2 years of writing nikolai to me
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borgialucrezia · 3 months ago
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just got reminded of david oakes personally telling me that neil jordan deliberately screwed over juan at the end of his arc and completely downplayed how he went beyond the intent of the characters at first, or to quote david, juan became a "victim" of neil's imagination lmaoo
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gregmarriage · 1 month ago
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no, bc see, i’m trying to make my heart! a slow burn, but like tbh, tom already being pretty down bad and the two of them having a vibe between them is just canon tomgreg anyways, so i think we’re good 👌🏻
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awrkive · 5 months ago
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NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 1 — JJK
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in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, (eventual) smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.2k
CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3 mature language, this chapter's pretty tame (for now) but theres a lot of FLIRTING, if u squint this story is a mosaic of every shows i love lmfao, for the apartment complex just imagine the namil villa from the kdrama fight for my way NB!JK VISUALS
NOTES hello im back!!!!! remember the jk in tech xmas fic i told you about last year? this is it except its not a xmas fic anymore lmfao. had an idea to make it a full blown story and im just sooo excited to share it with u guys on this platform!!!!! if ur from wattpad, the chapter system is gonna be a little different here but the content is not <3 anyway let me know what u guys think!
READ ON WATTPAD | AO3
PART ONE | TWO
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You never settled your relationship with the summer season. To put it simply, it was a love and hate sort of thing; you liked that it was dry, and the air always felt like it was filtered and healthy even though you were well-aware of the current shit-state of the Earth's ozone layer. There were beams and sunlights and street vendors and people lying on the park's ground. Summer felt nostalgic, like the first time you bought a vinyl in highschool and listened to Fleetwood Mac in secret because your mom was certain they peddled cocaine and all sorts of illegal drugs, and with a highschool friend you no longer talk to, not because of a friendship-breaking betrayal but something more melancholic than that like drifting apart as you got older — the ambience, generally, was what you loved the most about it.
But regardless of those, summer got hot. Sure, you could forgo layers of clothing and it was always nice to lounge about in short bottoms and strapless tops and sandals, but at the end of the day, you needed to set your AC on the lowest temp, and it cranks up your monthly rent a greater percentage which causes a detrimental result to your monthly pay. (And you always had to reapply make-up every now and then whenever you went outside because if not, you'd be a sweating mess.)
In the grand scheme of things, though, there was nothing more than you disliked than Park Jimin, your best friend since college, asking you to be his plus-one on his mom's birthday dinner. For the second time.
“I told you, Jimin, I’m not doing that anymore. Your mom called me fat and recommended a bunch of expensive skin care products to treat one single zit on the side of my forehead the last time you brought me there. I hid that with my bangs and she still saw it, like what the hell? The baked lasagna might have tasted good but I’m not stepping one foot in your house ever again.” You spat out, rolling your eyes at your friend who just dramatically flopped himself on your bed.
“Okay, so I’m really sorry about my mom. She’s a…” He trailed off, looking at you with meaningful eyes that weighed words you knew he couldn't exactly say without feeling bad, and you sighed. Nodded in understanding. Jimin’s face contorted into a cringed expression at that. “... yeah. But! Please. I swear! This is the last time. I just really need you to be there. They’re setting me up with Heesu, okay? You know that snotty nepo baby of the Kang clan who owns Kang Tech?”
“Jimin, you’re a nepo baby.”
He hit you with a pillow. “I am but I can earn a hundred thousand won without my family’s money. They can cut my credit cards and I'll still be thriving.”
You broke the serious demeanor and laughed loudly at his seemingly confident claim.
“I’m sorry but you could not even get a job at a burger joint without some nepotism let alone have a hundred thousand without your dad’s credit cards. Bitch, you’re just lying.”
“Fuck you. I was employee of the week at Seventh Street Burger.” He backfired, referring to that point in time in your sophomore year where you picked up a part time job during the summer at a burger joint and Jimin just decided to come along randomly. He got it because the owner knew of his dad.
“Yeah, because Sowon had a crush on you?” You said, remembering the owner’s daughter, who was also helping out at the store at that time. She was so smitten by Jimin you almost felt bad for her.
“Okay, fair, point taken. No need to be such a bitch about it,” Your best friend said with a dismissive wave of his hand, telling he was over it. You only laughed at that, boisterously, might you add, just to piss him off for no reason. Jimin deadpanned. “But seriously. I think they’re planning to marry me off to Heesu.”
Your face fell out of genuine concern this time.
“Oh my god, really?”
Jimin once again cringed visibly. “Yeah. I mean from a business lense it makes sense. But me marrying at 33? That makes me – like – a child groom.”
“Oh… yeah…” you trailed off, sympathizing with him. Not that you've ever been in the situation where your parents forced you in a sham marriage for their own wealth because there was no wealth to begin with. But you felt bad for Jimin. You always have, when it came to this particular subject.
You knew how it was with rich people, having known Jimin for almost half your life. It was true that arranged marriages were still a thing, and while Jimin seemed that he could pretty much do everything he wanted because of his free-spirited nature, his parents could still most likely make him marry someone he barely knew. Solely for business.
“Ugh.” Jimin groaned. “Should I just come out at the dinner so they can stop linking me to women? I’m gay as fuck, man. My cousin Park Youngdam would have a field day given that homophobic fucktard has been calling me the f word ever since he learned it in seventh grade.”
You shook your head, visibly cringing at his words. You didn't have family yourself. It was your mom who raised you alone for all your life, until she died five years ago. Didn't know any extended family. But frankly, you thought it was better that way than to deal with a complicated family like Jimin's.
“Nah. I mean if you’re ready, well, do it. But like, your parents are…” You two shared a look together again, and Jimin just slapped his palms over his face, indicating his doom. Your face twisted with another shot of deeper sympathy for him.
“This is it for me. They’ll marry me off to Kang Heesu and we’ll fly to the US and live in Massachusetts to fulfill her white picket fence fantasy. I’ll be a miserable husband and she'll be an even more miserable wife because she’ll eventually find out I’m gay. The neighbors will start talking and the white republicans will shun me out of the town church. We’ll have a surrogate baby and—”
“Jimin, what the fuck!” You hit him hard on his arm as you couldn't keep a straight face anymore at his dramatic monologue. “You’re not gonna marry Heesu and you won't live in fuckass Massachusetts and no one’s gonna shun you out of the town church and you won't have a surrogate baby.”
“It’s a possibility.” Jimin shrugged.
“I feel like you're guilt-tripping me into agreeing to be your date again at your mom's birthday dinner and I think that's very evil of you.” You said, squinting your eyes at him.
“Well, duh? But also, I’m really kind of lowkey highkey scared they’ll marry me off to someone now that I’m pushing forty.”
"You're quite literally seven years away from forty." You countered.
He looked at you with an expression of I know right! And he told you so.
"That's what I said to mom and dad, but they're acting like my sperm will freeze next year. God, I can't stand them!" 
Jimin, for all his jokes and unserious and bitchy behavior, was someone extremely important to you. Yeah, sure, he was rich as hell and he annoys you when he says something that reeks of too much nepotism but he was never intentionally snotty, never thinks he was better than everyone else (Jokes about how he thinks he has the fattest and juiciest ass in the world, though), and he wasn't at all like the rich people you've had the misfortune of interacting with at his mom's birthday party last year. He might be a self-proclaimed bitch but if you put him together with those people, he might as well be one of God's disciples.
For all his crass language and rather strong personality, Jimin was a doting friend who was there for you every single time. You could call him up at 3 am and he’d be at your door bringing Chinese take out and two tubs of ice cream, ready to hear you vent about your stupid job or a guy that you fumbled by being weird and off-putting because you didn't know how to handle a relationship. He was the kind of friend who would defend you in front of anyone else but will mercilessly tell you off and list down all points of your stupidity once you were in closed doors. He was the kind of friend that would ask you to be his pretend partner at a birthday dinner party, but he was your best friend ultimately and even if you had a big problem with his family and their extremely traditional (read: toxic) ways, you didn't want him to be pressured into coming out just so he could avoid to be engaged off to another random heiress. Didn't want him to do something he wasn't ready for. Didn't want him hurt or anything of the sort.
The last dinner wasn't even that bad, if you were to be honest. His parents were shitty, yeah sure, and the other guys in there that consisted of politicians and businessmen and people in the showbiz industry were something taken out of the toilet bowl for how stinky their elitist, better-than-you personalities were, but you both just totally forgot all about it by getting wasted at the local bar right after leaving. Not that his mom’s words didn't sting a bit or didn't make you a little conscious, but at the end of the day, you weren't actually dating Jimin so you didn't care what his parents thought of you.
Additionally, you didn't have something planned for the next two weeks when the birthday would be happening. You were supposed to, but that ship has long sailed when you fumbled a date with the guy at the IT department. For the record, you didn't really like him that much and he talked too much about his job and while you didn't mind that, it was getting a little too tiring. If you wanted IT lessons you would’ve majored in it in college. Still, Shin Taemu was handsome. And he wore those rounded glasses. Was tall. Had nice arms. Too bad he wanted to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. Fuck that guy.
“Ugh, I don't know,” you groaned. “It's just so disgusting to be your girlfriend, okay?”
Jimin audibly gasped. “How dare you? A lot would jump on this ass.” He said with incredulity seeping through his voice, pointing to his bum.
You rolled your eyes. “Not me, obviously. Before you take offense—”
“Offense taken.”
“—it’s just that you're like my cousin and when you call me honey I want to crawl out of my own skin.”
Jimin laughed at that while you looked miserable, remembering those moments from last year. Seriously, how could you have fooled anyone in that party that you were banging? You swore you looked like Ariana Grande and Troye Sivan in that one music video? (Jimin was the one who showed that meme to you, by the way.)
“So I won't call you honey. Just babe.”
“Ew.” You quickly retaliated.
“Ohh, the homophobia is sho-wing.” Jimin sing-sang, ever the mature individual he was.
“Fuck off, seriously.”
Jimin just giggled and then scooted closer to you. “No but like, are you coming? ‘Cause jokes aside, I'm just gonna find someone else if you really don't wanna do it. But you know you're always my first choice.”
“First choice when you do some stupid shit.” you countered, rolling your eyes for the nth time that night. Jimin would be the cause of your eye surgery if ever they got dislocated or something.
“That’s my biggest act of love.”
“I don't want it.”
“I’ll double what I paid you last year.”
“Double it again and give it to the next person?”
Jimin flipped you off. “I’ll give you my nintendo and I’ll get you a card at that coffee shop you love so much.”
That caught your attention. You raised your brow. “On god?”
“When did I ever lie to you?”
You deadpanned. “We won't finish this conversation if I list all the times—”
“Okay, okay, point taken. But I'm really serious. Please, please, please, please be my pretend girlfriend on my mom's birthday party please, please—”
“Shut up. Ugh,” you could already feel the big smile creeping up Jimin’s face when you let out a big sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buy me boba now.”
Jimin tackled you to the bed and hugged you and kissed your forehead.
“Thank you!��Best best friend ever.” he delightfully said, grinning widely, eyes almost disappearing in his triumph.
Your face contorted into a disgusted expression while Jimin just laughed as you pushed him so hard he almost fell off the bed.
“You are a disgusting limpy sack of dicks! Also, I’m not your best best friend, you don't have a wide selection. I'm your best friend. Period.”
“Unfortunately.” He waved you off and when you were about to retort something his phone suddenly rang. You watched quietly as he put it over his ear. “Hey, you just landed?”
If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.
“Nah, you want me to pick you up?” Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. “Sure, I’m free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?” He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. “Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?”
It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, “Well, my cousin’s apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on.”
“Is that one of the non-problematic twenty percent cousin lineage of your very complicated family tree?" You asked, referring to him telling you one time that his family, including the extended ones, was eighty percent shitty and twenty percent decent.
Jimin chuckled at the inside joke. "Well, yeah, he's one of the good ones. Knows I'm gay."
"Oh, nice."
Jimin stood up from your bed. “I’ll get you your boba and head off. Gotta pick cousin up or he’ll start throwing tantrums at the airport.”
“Add extra pearls please.” You told him, watching as he clicked away on his phone to get you your drink.
“I spoil you too much.” Jimin said, clicking his tongue, eyes still on his phone.
“What are you here for if not my glorified sugar daddy?”
“I will kill myself in front of you.” Jimin deadpanned, getting a chuckle out of you.
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You didn't know the psychology — or if there even was psychology — behind feeling embarrassed when you were about to cross a path while carrying huge boxes. It was a normal task, and yet, it always felt like a huge walk of shame when you did it.
It was probably because you had to carry it over a flight of stairs, and there was no way you wouldn't trip on yourself carrying two heavy boxes in your hands that were already disrupting your vision.
Maybe it was your fault for choosing the pick-up option when you were checking out these furniture online, all because there was a huge increase on the fee for door-to-door delivery. For the record, there was a huge gap and the boxes were not really that heavy to the point you could not carry them both. It's just a lamp and a portable desk, you thought a week ago when you opted for the pick-up option, I could carry it all the way to the unit just fine — and obviously, your delusion has resulted to this very moment.
As soon as you managed to walk over five steps, you felt as if your oxygen supply just got cut back, panting like someone fresh from a marathon. Damn. You definitely needed to work out a little. Maybe do some squats for your New Year’s resolution, commit to it for three days straight then forget about it for the next 362 days of the year.
You looked ahead of you and a string of curses let themselves out of your mouth automatically as you estimated the number of stairs you needed to get through to get to your apartment.
This day sucked! It was Sunday and you planned to wake up at five am to have a productive day but then you slept through your five alarms and woke up at eleven am instead. You ran out of eggs and you had to go to the convenience store to eat a sad meal of yogurt and kimbap. And now there were these boxes that you needed to carry over what seemed to look like six million of stairs. You weren't Sisyphus! And where were your goddamn neighbors when you needed them?
"You need help, ma'am?"
"Jesus Christ—" you turned to look to your right only to see a man who seemed to own the previous voice.
And Jesus Christ, indeed.
He was wearing a white shirt and some shorts, Nike sliders on his feet and a pair of headphones on. He was wearing glasses. And he had a tattoo sleeve.
What the fuck.
What the fuck!
It has been so long since you thought a man was crazily attractive. Okay, well sure, the guys from the IT department were something else (or you just had a weird eyeglasses fetish, Jimin once pointed out, that you still — to this day — vehemently try to deny) but you’ve never been this taken aback by someone’s face before.
The guy’s lips tilted a bit, some sort of greeting maybe, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed, fearing that he caught you looking at him longer than necessary.
Oh god. This was pathetic! He was a stranger! He was a man! He just had a cute face attached to a very good body with an arm full of tattoos and he was tall but you were sure he wasn’t six feet two. Also, he had hair that looked fluffy from where you stood and a pair of eyeglasses but Jimin was just bluffing when he said you had a fetish for them. Right?
You were performing mental gymnastics until you realized he was asking a question.
"Oh! Uh, no, thank you. It's fine." You said, embarrassed at the way you almost jumped in surprise earlier.
But the whole thing was ridiculous. What, because there was a very fine man across from you the universe suddenly decided to fuck up your fate by making you be seen by that very man struggling with boxes all the way up to your unit? Couldn't it just have been on a day when you did your make-up and dressed up in that overpriced dress you bought hundred bad choices ago?
You fumbled with the boxes a little bit before continuing your way up, nevermind the guy whose response you didn't wait for because you needed to get the fuck away from him before you say something weird and off-putting.
Truthfully, you could use the help. But at what cost? A fine man carrying them? Okay, that wasn’t so bad. But what were you supposed to do with... all of that?
As if the universe was indeed trying to prove to you that you were, in fact, not its favorite creation, you almost tripped. And the guy most definitely saw it.
Fuck.
You turned to the side to see him looking at you, concern etching his face. You wanted to convince yourself that it was genuine concern because you'd commit something that would totally change the trajectory of his life if he was to laugh.
But you thought his own unit must be way up as well, as he was going to the same path as you, and if that was the case, he must have been a new neighbor in the complex because you've never seen the man before.
“Well, it’s not that heavy but…” you trailed off, looking blankly at the cardboard boxes. And then at him. "I could use some help, if you don't mind."
The guy just chuckled. Oh wow, his laugh was very... low.
You didn’t even know what the fuck that meant.
“I’ll get them for you.” He said, crossing the small distance between you and taking over the pile, leaving you with nothing in your hands.
“Oh, no, I’ll have that one. It’s fine.” You said, stepping closer to take the other one but he was already securing it in his hold, with stability this time, ready to take off.
He let out a small laugh again and you bit your tongue to not think about how cute he looked. If he was a new tenant, you hoped you didn't cross paths with him ever again.
"It's okay, ma'am."
He's got to stop calling you that before you do something drastic.
“It’s quite far from here, I'm all the way up to three-three-six.” You uttered, pointing forward, a few steps behind the guy, who hummed at what you said.
You quickly caught up to him. "Really, thanks for doing this."
"No problem, it's nothing." He said, smiling at you. Warm and kind. All cute. "I'm all the way up to four-four-six as well."
Your eyes widened. "No way, that's just across mine."
The stranger, apparently your neighbor now, grinned.
"Nice coincidence, huh?"
A sheepish smile formed on your lips. You didn't dwell on that comment too much. Knew it was just small talk.
"If you don't mind me asking, are you a new tenant here?” You asked out of genuine curiosity. You had never seen someone come out of the unit across from you out of all the four years you'd been here.
He nodded, agreeing with what you presumed.
"Yeah. Just temporary, though.”
“Oh…” A surprised sound. Maybe it was a good thing he was only staying temporarily... “I hope I didn’t inconvenience you or anything. You really don’t need to bring the boxes over to my apartment.”
The man just chuckled, dismissing your worry. “You looked like you could use a hand, these boxes are big. Anyway, I was just out checking 'round town. Settling in.”
From the sound of it, you'd assume he was not only moving in in a new apartment complex, but new city as well. Perhaps country? But he most definitely looked Korean. But maybe he came from abroad. Who knows.
“Yeah, there's a really nice coffee shop three blocks away. You should check it out sometime. Ji—my friend and I are obsessed with their iced caramel macchiato. And the boba.”
His brows furrowed in pure interest. “That must've been the one I passed by this morning. I’ll make sure to try that one.”
“You really should. And the barista gives you a brownie on Sundays if he likes you.” You shared like it was gossip, mentally taking note to visit the cafe sometime this week.
“And I'm sure not everybody gets the privilege?” The guy looked at you funny, and that made you laugh.
"Of course, yes! You have to earn it, I think. I feel like I spent over a million there before he started giving me brownies."
"Hope my charm works on him as well," he said, and it caught you off guard.
What did he mean, "as well"? Like he was speaking from the basis that you had charm and so he hoped he had it as well to get the barista to like him?
"Well. He's strict." Was all you could say, before you spotted your apartment. "Hey, I'll take it over from here."
The guy looked over the plated number on the door, reading three-three-six just as you said earlier. Trudging forward, he set the boxes down on the side of the porch.
"Thank you, really. This was really nice of you."
You extended your gratitude once again as if you didn't spend the walk up to here thanking him non-stop, sounding like a broken record. Thank god the guy didn't seem to mind your over-the-top gratitude, only waving his hand.
"Told you, it's fine. You need help with a few boxes again and just ring me up across," He joked, turning around slightly and looking at the door across your unit, Unit 446. It earned a chuckle from you. His face turned serious now, but there was still a charming smile on his face. “Hey. I’m actually pretty new in this town. I was thinking about visiting a few restaurants downtown, maybe you could recommend me some?”
You didn't mean to, but you took note the way his doe eyes seemed to shimmer even behind the frame of his glasses.
“My favorites are just, like, a ten-minute walk away. There’s this restobar near that drugstore when you turn left from this building, right?” The guy nodded, and you were slightly delighted he knew right away. “Yeah, their ramen's great, you'd thank me forever.”
He chuckled at the way you said it and you smiled.
Your interactions with new people were always a range from pure silence to oversharing; talking to them like they were your long lost friend whom you’ve milked goats with in your father’s orchard. It was probably just a product of introversion; not knowing the right approach to socializing.
“Thanks for the recommendation.” He said, a genuine appreciative tone lacing his words.
“You’re welcome. If I can ring you up to help me with some boxes, you can ring me up for some restaurant recommendation.”
"It's an exchange, then. Deal."
"Why not?" You shrugged, laughing along with him when he did so.
You both stood there for a while until seconds passed. You didn’t know exactly how to end the conversation, not that you wanted to, but there was nothing that went to your head to talk about more. And besides, he was probably headed somewhere, so you began to speak.
“Hey, so I’m going in—”
“What about we—”
“Oh.” You stopped. “Sorry, what was that?”
The guy just shook his head. “Nah, you’re probably busy. Thanks for the recommendation again.”
“No, seriously, sorry I didn't hear it the first time...”
“I was just gonna ask about the name of the restaurant.”
“It’s Midday Miso.” You told him, smiling.
“Midday Miso,” The guy nodded, “Yeah. Got it. Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome, and, uh, thanks. For the help.”
You took your keys out from your shorts and you didn’t expect to still see him standing in front of you when you turned around. You jokingly squinted your eyes at him.
“Yeah, you first, get in.” He said with a low chuckle.
It was a little embarrassing and pretty stupid how your heart fluttered a bit at that.
“What a gentleman you are,” You respond with a snort, opening the door to your unit and pushing the boxes inside your apartment. When they were in, you turned to look at the guy again, saying, “Okay, bye for real. See you around. Hope you like Midday Miso if you try it. And the coffee shop. It's called Brown Coffee.”
“See you around.” He did a little wave that made you both laugh before you closed the door.
When the lock system clicked, you stood on your doorway for a little while.
And then fake-cried.
You quickly clicked on Jimin's pinned contact on your phone.
You [5:35pm]: JIMINNNNNNNNN You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY BITCH IF U DONT RESPOND You [5:36pm]: I HAVE A DIABOLICAL CRUSH AND ITS GOING IN THE MEMOIRRRRRR
It wasn’t even one full minute when Jimin replied.
cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: oh my god SHUT UP!!! im at a training program for ghis stupid ass company my fathers been running fir 600 years cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: whats up cuntress #1 [5:38pm]: its always a crush and never a job 😒
You [5:39pm]: yeh so remember when i told u im oacking up my vagina last summer
cuntress #1 [5:39pm]: many such times
You [5:40pm]: 🖕 You [5:40pm]: SO raincheck!!! You [5:41pm]: COZ I just met a fine man at my apartment AND flirted with him You [5:41pm]: i think
cuntress #1 [5:42pm]: ohhhhh OK???? cuntress #1 [5:43pm]: cuntress #2 flirting???? now thats not uninteresting go on while i fake a restroom break 👀
You [5:45pm]: this story is not for the imessages baby get ur ass up and ICE CREAM WITH ME NOW.
cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: omg 😭😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: i’ll be off 7:30pm wait for me 😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:47pm]: i also have #stories to tell
You [5:49pm]: 🤭
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There must be a time where you finally grow up and learn to cook.
You were a twenty-eight-year-old woman and yet, your meals sadly ranged from instant noodles, canned goods, and food from the nearby twenty-four-hour provision shop. Sometimes, you had the gall to cook something from scratch—but with scratch you meant scratching off the labels from food take-outs and reheating them in your microwave.
Jimin had told you one time you would die at twenty-nine with your lifestyle. You told him he couldn't tell you shit because he didn't know how to cook either, he just worked out and ate healthy stuff, and you did, too! But Jimin knew you, and in an evil manner, clocked you with, "Buying fresh produce and not consuming them does not count as healthy living."
Anyway, you never understood why you were so bad at cooking. Your mother, as you remembered her, was decent at it but you guessed it was because she never really taught you and you never really bothered, either. In some immature way of thinking, you'd like to think it was a win for feminism as you were battling patriarchal standards by not conforming to stereotypical "female" qualities. But deep inside, you knew cooking should be a survival skill.
Well, maybe Jimin was right and you would indeed die at the ripe age of twenty-nine. On the bright side, at least you wouldn't have to pay off your student loans and your monthly rent.
In relation, not knowing how to cook meant impractical visits to the restaurant, and that was how you ended up at Midday Miso for dinner after your shift.
It was only a little over seven pm when you entered the restaurant, the ahjumma quickly greeting you and preparing your usual, a sign of familiarity that implied your countless visits ever since moving in at your current apartment building.
Regular visits meant usual sitting spot, and in your case, it was the high stools that faced the glass walls of the restaurant's facade where you could see the busy street making that little area of the town alive.
As minutes overlapped with one another, your food was served and you were hit with the waft of the restaurant's delightful signature beef ramen and bibimbap that the ahjumma made sure to add extra beef on.
Eating with a happy heart made you feel like nothing in the world mattered but you and the food before you, so, you didn't pay attention to the person who was coming to your direction and eventually sat beside you, but what caught you off guard was when said person suddenly said,
"Hi."
When you turned to the side to see who it was, your eyes widened as you said in both recognition and surprise, "Unit 446?"
"That's me." He, Unit 446—in the flesh—said with a low chuckle, twisting himself so that he was sat appropriately on the high stool. Still, his body leaned towards you when he continued to say, "Fancy seeing you here."
You grinned, flattered at the casualness of his approach.
"Same to you. I wonder who told you about this local gem."
He pursed his lips. "A nice neighbor across my place... whom I still don't know the name of."
"Oh, shoot!" You'd face-palm right now if he wasn't looking, but truthfully, you didn't even think about that! You've just been referring to him as the Staircase Guy slash Neighbor 446 in your head and when you told Jimin about him. You laughed at the thought. "That neighbor of yours is __."
Neighbor 446 nodded and extended his hand to you
"I'm Jungkook."
It was a little silly but you shook hands, anyway, and knowing it was, indeed, silly, you both laughed together at your joint connection.
Jungkook. Huh. Not exactly a common Korean name, but it wasn't rare either. The name does ring a bell though, felt like you've heard it somewhere before.
You brushed off the familiarity as inconsequential.
Unlike the completely casual attire he adorned the first time that you met him, he was now in some sleek slacks and a white polo which sleeves were ridden up half high, which exposed the vines of ink on his right arm once again. There's a coat that hung around the back of his chair, and he had forgone the glasses this time around, which was a bit of a shame on the part of your brain that might have a silly crush on him.
Jungkook's clothes seemed to mirror your own business casual ensemble, and that made you think about what he possibly did for a living. Maybe he worked a corporate job just like you, and the prospect might have made you down a little—only because as far as you were concerned, corporate people weren't the most pleasant people you could encounter—but it was not something you dwelled on too much because you couldn't care less. If Jungkook was corporate, he sure didn't seem to be one the way he was.
Besides, you wouldn't be the one to bring up the depressing and aggravating conversation about gross grown-up things like... jobs... Eurgh. You both could just talk about the weather or how insane the ahjumma's ramen tasted for eternity.
"Well, hello, Jungkook." You greeted him. All warm and soft, testing the syllables of his name on your tongue. Rolled off well enough. He had a nice name that sure fit his face for some reason.
"Hi, __." He mirrored the soft smile on your lips, and just as he said it, the ahjumma was heading towards your direction to give him his order.
In that usual way grandmas reacted, the ahjumma gasped audibly—and dramatically, might you add—upon seeing Jungkook, but what she said next made you want to dig a hole under your seat.
"__-dear! Is this young man your boyfriend?"
Good thing you weren't consuming anything as of that moment, because it would've entered the wrong track.
"Ahjumma!" You laughed, totally not authentic at all because your face didn't match it, looking at Jungkook who just sent a shy smile her way.
Ahjumma must have seen you both talking to each other and had completely jumped to a conclusion. An insane one at that! 
Shaking your head, you clarified, "This is Jungkook. A friend. He's new in town and checking out all the stuff around here. I recommended him this place."
You saw Jungkook nodding along with your words while he helped her set his table.
The ahjumma just shook her head. "I apologize, then," She looked at Jungkook and as if gossiping with him, whispered in a not very subtle way, "I keep on telling this girl to date already! Such young beauty shouldn't be wasted, you know."
A tsk-ing sound made its way through her mouth, and as much as you were starting to feel embarrassed that she was telling on you on Jungkook—who was literally a stranger to you a day ago and whom you may have a teeny tiny bit of crush on—you knew ahjumma did not have any malicious intent and just chose to laugh the whole thing off.
You heard Jungkook do the same.
This was ridiculous.
"Ahjumma, I told you, you're gonna be the first one to know when I date. For now I'm just a part-time accountant and a full-time promoter of Midday Miso." You pout at her, trying to dodge the topic of romance altogether.
Not in front of Jungkook.
"Ayee," She gave you a side-eye. "Fine. I'll bring over some extra beef."
You mouthed an enthusiastic "yes!" and raised your fist in the air with excitement, and Jungkook looked at the interaction with a smile on his face.
As the ahjumma walked away, you looked over at him.
"I'm glad you came by—" You identified his order to be the same one you used to be obsessed with the first few months you came to the restaurant. "—and ordered their best seller. You sure know how to be a tourist."
"Looked good on the menu. The ahjumma also seems to be nice. Seems like she's a close friend, huh?" Jungkook said.
"Totally."
And it was the truth. There was just something about ahjumma that made you feel reminiscent about the grandmother you've never had. Ever since you moved in and became a regular at this place, it felt like she's taken care of you and your relationship had been special since.
"This is really good." Jungkook commented after having his second bite, and you nodded in agreement. "She was serious about the beef thing?"
You chuckled at the mention. "Yeah, she always gives me extra."
"You just always get free stuff around these areas?" Jungkook joked which earned a hearty laugh from you. You remembered telling him about the free brownie on Sundays at Brown Coffee, a little bit surprised he recalled that.
"Now that you said that, I actually do." You proudly shared. You've been in this town for so long that the various faces just went from familiar to friends.
Jungkook nodded, his face showing amusement.
"I have to learn your ways, then."
"The secret to that is be incompetent at cooking. It means it's either take-out or eat out. Business owners around here have no choice but to see me every three days because I can't cook my own meal."
You could see Jungkook's amusement growing every second, and to add faux insult to injury, he joked, "Oh, bummer."
You decided to ride along with that.
"You mean you're a good cook? That's the real bummer! And here I thought we were bonding." You said, purposefully trying to sound scandalous at his implication of being a good cook.
He shook his head instantly, chuckling. "Okay, nah. I'm not that good. Just decent. But I'll have you know I can make a mean tangsuyuk. Any other complicated stuff is out the window, so there, we are bonding."
"I appreciate that you're under the assumption that I know where to begin with the non-complicated stuff. You're already putting way too much faith in me."
"I seriously doubt that." Jungkook laughed once again.
"You know what my friend tells me? That I'd die at twenty-nine because I don't know how to cook."
Jungkook almost keeled over hearing you say the words, and as much as you were amused at his own amusement, you decided to further add on the joke because you were enjoying this way too much.
"Wow. I wouldn't doubt you'd be an accessory to my murder the way you're laughing way too hard at my impending death. That's next year, you know."
Jungkook reached over for the glass of water and drank it. While he did so, the ahjumma had come over to give you the beef she promised. You did not forgot to thank her as soon as she went away. 
You did hope Jungkook didn't notice the malicious wink she sent your way.
"Fuck, sorry." Jungkook's laughter had gone down this time, but his eyes still showed a hint of mirth when he asked, "You're twenty-eight, then?"
You nodded. "Yep." Unfortunately, you thought.
"Oh, that's actually surprising."
A gasp left your mouth. Jungkook was quick to correct himself.
"I meant it's surprising because I thought you were way younger."
Oh.
"Don't flatter me. I won't share my extra beef with you."
"I thought—" He shrugged. "—Early twenties."
"I'm guessing you are in your early twenties." You joked back.
"Okay, now, don't flatter me. I know how old I look." Jungkook said with a dismissive tone, but nevertheless light-hearted. Just like how this whole thing was going.
God, you were so in awe of how good he was at talking to you that he was practically bringing out the extrovert in you you only ever show to exclusive people like Jimin.
"So, you're like, fifty, then?"
Incredulous, Jungkook burst into laughter. "Wow."
"Sorry, just that you sounded like you were five years from retirement! Anyway, you look like we're the same age?"
He shook his head. "Three years older. Turning thirty-one later this year."
Jaw dropped. Not physically, but mentally.
"Oh wow, you're basically—" a fucking DILF! What the hell!
Thankfully you managed to cut yourself off before Jungkook could think you were way off your rocks and embarrass yourself in front of him for eternity. You could just hear Jimin from miles away telling you off about calling thirty-year-old men DILFs even though you didn't know if they had a child.
What do you mean this guy was thirty and why did that just make him even hotter in your head... He's got to stop this madness before you do something completely incomprehensible.
"—A senior." Was the lame thing you came up with to finish your sentence.
"Ouch." Jungkook said, but his word was completely opposite to the expression he was wearing on his face the way he just couldn't suppress the grin that had been visible on his mouth since you started talking.
You brought your hands up.
"Totally didn't mean that in a negative way."
Which was the entire truth. So far, the things you knew about him was that he had tattoos, a nice body, a nice personality, good ass freaking conversationalist, and that he was thirty! Thirty! As in, the peak of male hotness. The evil psychological concept of most men only getting hotter as they age.
"I'm sure, I'm sure," Jungkok nodded. "By the way, are you heading out after this?"
"Oh, yeah. Don't have anywhere else to go. I have a nine A.M tomorrow so..." you shrugged, and he nodded in understanding.
"You work as an accountant, right, from what you told the ahjumma?" Jungkook asked you curiously.
"Yeah... it's a very tedious job." You grimaced a little bit. "What about you?"
He tilted his head a bit, picking up a dumpling on his plate. "I'm a software engineer."
"Oh, that's cool."
You nodded to yourself while you processed what he said.
Works in fucking tech; another thing you just learned about him. 
You weren't actively seeking out guys in tech, but why did they seem to come to you voluntarily? God forbid you saw someone who wasn't in there! Was every man working in tech now? Was Jimin really only being truthful when he said they were exactly your type?
"Have you made any software or is that, like, a wrong assumption about you guys?"
Jungkook merely chuckled at your retort.
"Not entirely, no. I've designed a few software in college—I'm still doing it. I'm just currently doing more business stuff now." He gave you a sheepish smile. "You?"
"Well, it's just... you know—I actually work at a tech company. I'm a junior accountant. And, uh, nothing interesting, really. You get to do cool math like programming, and I get to do boring math like calculating money I don't have. It's always a great day at work." You said, couldn't help the laugh that skipped your mouth at your own sarcasm.
Nothing like joking about hating your job to someone who you just met yesterday.
"Programming and coding are not all that, either. It's tedious and... it's just a really boring job. But... it all pays the bills."
You chuckled.
"Yeah. Totally."
Without minding it, you raised the small glass of soju, initiating a toast, one that Jungkook understood immediately and met you in the middle of it.
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The night was still you when you walked out of Midday Miso, but unlike any other nights, it was with Jungkook this time walking beside you.
"So you just—what—hid him for three months?"
"Well, yes! I wasn't about to get a notice for that! And besides, he was really cute. But he's in good hands now, his owner still sends me pictures of him. He's very grown and big."
"That's insane."
You peered at Jungkook who watched you in awe as you told him about the story of Alfredo, the cat whom you rescued on your way home from work a year ago. The landlady obviously had her fair share of rules and regulations in her building, and keeping pets was an absolute no, which was a shame. Definitely wasn't a shame when you first just moved in the complex, but things got lonely sometimes when you were living alone and company was almost a luxury.
Anyway, as told, you managed to keep Alfredo out of the landlady's sight until you found a highly qualified parent on some online forum who you still kept in contact with to this day.
But as you watched Jungkook, you noticed the way his expression fell into something concerning. He looked worried, which made you feel the same way as a result.
"What are you thinking?" You asked him curiously.
"Oh, nah, I was just... thinking. See, I actually have a dog."
"Oh!" You looked at him wide-eyed.
He has a dog; another thing about Jungkook that would qualify him on the regular rounds of hot boy of the month on Twitter dot com. 
"Yeah."
"You didn't read the terms and conditions of the building?" Your eyebrows formed a concerned expression.
Jungkook chuckled and shook his head. "I did. I just—suddenly thought about him, is all. He's being taken care of some place. But, you know, I missed him, and I was thinking about getting him here and showing him around my new place and all that."
"Oh... that's a bummer, then. The landlady's strict, even with the small dogs, can you imagine? Is he small, by the way, your dog?
"He's a Doberman, so definitely a big one."
"He must be really cute. What's his name?"
"Bam." He smiled at you, and you could totally see the pride showing on his face at the mention of his dog. And with a tone that you could only identify as someone who's suppressing his enthusiasm a little bit, he added, "You wanna see a picture of him?"
"Sure!"
Jungkook took out his phone from his pocket and showed you images of a big, chocolate brown dog. Bam definitely wasn't like the other regular Dobermans you'd see around. His ears weren't cropped, and his tail wasn't docked either. You didn't know if the lack of surgery was intentional from his side, but you'd like to think he kept it that way because he knew it hurt the dog greatly. From how you've been knowing him, you were certain he just didn't want to put his dog under unnecessary pain, which was honestly heartwarming to think about.
Jungkook was becoming way too good to be true in you head little by little.
"Awe, he's adorable!" You cooed, especially when he swiped through the picture of his pet, Bam, as a pup in what seemed to be Jungkook's arms based on the familiar tattoos that peeked from the exposed arm as seen on the picture. The tattoos also seemed to be new at that time as well, considering that the skin was still yet to be fully covered like now.
"I'm flattered you think that."
"Where is he, by the way? If you don't mind me asking."
"He's at a... friend's place in New York. He's not very good at flying so I didn't bring him with me here, and I thought, I'll only be here for three months, anyway, so." Jungkook shrugged.
Three months. Well. He did say he was only staying here temporarily.
You nodded. "For business, right?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"You grew up there?" You kicked the stone that was caught at the tip of your shoe, putting your fists in the deeper part of your coat's pockets. Summer may be hot during daytime, but it sure as hell was cold on nights like these.
"Nah, I'm from Busan. Flew to California for college and have been there since. Until now, that is."
Jimin was also from Busan, you thought. Though he said they only lived there for a few years until his parents moved to Seoul, but he made sure to visit his hometown every now and then. Most of the time, he made you come with him which you never had complaints about. You lived in the city all your life so going there, especially in the more urbanized area where you and Jimin stayed. Felt like fresh air—which Busan had, quite literally.
"My best friend's from Busan too."
"Really? What about you?"
You chuckled before answering, "I, unfortunately, did not come from any interesting place. Born and raised in Seoul, through and through. Though my mom told me she lived in Daegu for many years prior to having me."
"Seoul is an interesting place, though."
"Eh. It's okay." You shrugged, and your nonchalance made you both laugh.
The walk to your apartment building from Midday Miso was not that far. Still, it was five blocks away and while you and Jungkook were currently sharing conversation together and seemingly walking the same path, you weren't sure if you were both walking together there.
As if he read your mind, he suddenly spoke after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
"You mind if we walk together to the building?"
You decided to joke to get the jittery feeling out of your system.
"Scared of the dark, Jungkook?"
"Sure... my five-eleven self is."
You squinted your eyes at him. He did not just go there!
"Is that a slight against my height because I'm five-seven, mind you."
Jungkook stopped in his tracks which made you do the same, and you watched as he put his hand on his waist while the other reach up to his face to place a finger over his chin, seemingly assessing you up and down. You looked at him incredulously.
"You're bumping your height to two inches." He seriously said.
You gasped audibly.
"Oh, shut up,"
You rolled your eyes and turned your back at him, continuing your walk as you heard him behind you bursting in laughter at your reaction.
"I'm kidding!"
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You first met Jimin at a college party. He was five years older than you, supposedly out of college by the time you attended, but he always had a problem with rebellion–what with his ragged relationship with his parents, he would intentionally flunk his courses as a message to them that he'd always be a black sheep and a proud one at that, hoping it would be enough to convey that they could not force him to be the heir of their company. (Obviously, it had taken him nowhere, given that he was now currently attending a training program to work at said company).
But maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was set back to five years for graduation. Because you got to know him, and he got to know you.
On the outside, you might look like the total opposite of each other–because Jimin was the definition of extroversion who wasn't afraid to put himself out there–while you, admittedly, were more reserved and usually shied away from any public attention.
As much as you were welcoming to a lot of people, you didn't have a lot of close friends growing up–at least not the kind of friends you'd see on TV shows–but when Jimin came to your life, you clicked so instantly you could not even figure out where you two exactly began.
The instant way you two clicked, you realized, was like your relationship with Jungkook nowadays.
Ever since that night at Midday Miso, you've been seeing a lot of each other. Granted that it was only in the same place, same time. You'd usually arrive past seven and he, a few minutes later. Jungkook, cladded in his slacks and long-sleeved polo, was becoming a usual sight after a shift, and your business casual clothes was turning as one for him as well.
Your usual seating spot became his as nights passed, and ahjumma, thank God, no longer asked you if he was your boyfriend. You were glad that she was slowly getting acquainted with him though, greeting him with a friendlier smile and tone reserved only for customers like you when he entered the restaurant, and Jungkook seemed to welcome the newfound friendship wholeheartedly.
On the consecutive nights you'd spent with him, it was almost as if you lived quite the same life. Though, you didn't know when he went to work. In fact, you didn't see him during the mornings even though in theory, it could be easy, granted that you both lived across each other. But strangely enough, you'd never caught him retiring to his flat to go to the bus station. You assumed he started earlier than you or way later.
You never asked, it never came up either.
Still, there was some sort of tranquility in the thought that you could spend some time with someone after your shift and just talk about whatever–and whatever meant a lot of things. Random at best. You once told him about the first raccoon you met in your life, and he told you all about the lioness he got to watch when he went to a South Saharan trip a few years ago.
Sometimes, the conversation went around what happened in the office that day. Jungkook noticed the little blot of ink on the cuff of your baby blue long sleeves, and you told him about the jammed printer in the accounting department. He'd told you later on about how he almost fucked up a report, said he was nervous because he was taking on a new role in the office.
Those moments were shared in long walks from Midday Miso to your apartment building, because naturally, you both established a small tradition of walking home together after a night of eating your hearts out at ahjumma's restaurant.
It was a rather sweet gesture, if you were honest to yourself. But you chose not to linger too much on the romantic thoughts that floated in your head, especially when you'd notice the way he made sure to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and when your fingers got too close the tips almost touched.
Because Jungkook, for how objectively good looking he was, was more than just his pretty face and physique.
He was kind and funny and genuine unlike any other straight men you've met in your life. Maybe the bar was low, but for all the times you've gotten to talk to him, he never showed any signs of ego most men would by the second hour of your meeting.
In the dating scene as an adult, a lot of men would come up to a date talking about how high they were placed at their company's hierarchy and how much they made in a month, and when they hear about yours, they'd always have a backhanded comment about how "you could only go up from there, right?" and those moments were always a bummer. Yawn-inducing, to be more accurate. Men and their predictability was boring and it was the reason why you'd declare to Jimin almost every time you got home from a date that you were retired from looking for them because most men just plainly fucking sucked.
But with Jungkook... was it different.
You found he didn't talk a lot, and one time you asked him if you were doing it–the talking–way too much, but he just chuckled and told you that he didn't mind.
Later on, you learned that he was just more of a listener rather than a talker, and that was not only a pure assumption of yours because he did listen attentively, alright. As for all the random things you've told him about, you never expected him to recall a single thing, not until one time when you passed by a food truck.
"Hey, didn't you say you like sundae?" Jungkook asked, and when you followed where his eyes were, it was at the food truck parked just a few steps ahead from where you both were.
"I do... wow. It's been so long since I saw a food truck around here." You said, following his steps towards the vehicle.
They had tables to dine in, and even if you were still full from eating at Midday Miso that night, the sundae was just too gratifying to decline. Jungkook was the same with the tteokbokki on his small plate, telling you he missed eating at one of these things, as they didn't exactly have anything like this abroad.
After he paid for the food (and of course not without a long, silly, light-hearted argument about it), he came back with two sticks of Melona ice pops which you looked at with widened eyes, animated expression written all over your face especially when he thrusted the purple yam flavor to you.
"Oh my god, how do they have these?"
"I was surprised as well... this is the first time in a while I'm eating this again." Jungkook said and then gestured to the ice pop in your hand, "You like the purple yam, right?"
"Yeah!"
You were about to ask him how he knew, but then you briefly remembered that one time you had a passionate rant about people hating on purple yam ice cream and why they weren't right.
And as you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to remember it all too well.
Jungkook showed genuine interest in the things you'd tell him about. He'd visit the cafes and restaurants you recommended to him as much as he could, and because you've come to exchange numbers with him eventually after almost two weeks of casually hanging out, they sometimes came during lunch break.
1 message received from Jungkook (Unit 446)
That day, you only exchanged contacts the other night, so seeing him on your phone so quickly like that caught you by surprise. It was welcomed though.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: I went to Cafe Heaven for lunch and loved their ice americano
As soon as you read the first message, another one came.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: This is Jungkook by the way :)
You laughed at his introduction. As if he didn't see you type his name on your phone last night–like he didn't jokingly complain about you putting the (Unit 446) in there but giving in eventually and also adding (Unit 336) to yours in his own contacts.
You [12:38pm]: Hi Jungkook! You [12:38pm]: im glad u went!!! u should also try their fettuccine alfredo
Seconds later, he sent a picture of the dish you just mentioned which put a smile on your face.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:39pm]: i'll get my refund from you if this doesnt taste good
You [12:40pm]: 1 week of friendship and ur already ripping me off 🤐
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: 😁 Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: first bite Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:41pm]: second bite
What was he on, you didn't know. But you were glad that he was slowly coming around, his jokes getting more... how would you say it... less polite? He just stopped apologizing after he said them! He usually would in the first few days, but now in your newfound closeness, it was like you were out of that stage where you tiptoed around each other still, feeling the other one out, trying to figure them out, all that stuff.
Nowadays, it was just more natural. Smooth-sailing. Paradoxical, almost, because of how the relationship felt more defined as well as loose.
You found you liked it that way. 
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:42pm]: I like it 👍🏻
And to your surprise, he sent you a picture of him, indeed, holding a thumbs up.
You'd like to think you were an expert on going along with the tide because even though you would be classified as introvert by most, you did pretty well in forming relationships with people–granted, most of them were fleeting, at best, hence the lack of bigger circles in most of your life–but you were great with making friends, regardless. 
And maybe it was how you ended up with this whole thing with Jungkook. Because you were friendly and open, although you wouldn't dare to take all credits because as you mentioned before, he was a great conversationalist.
He didn't talk much as you said, but he didn't ever make you feel like you were talking way too much because he made sure that you knew he was listening, and when he talked, it was always engaging; conversations with him transitioned to different subjects in perfect seugue you would never noticed how you jumped from Melona ice pops to the existential dread you fought every morning before going to work.   
When it came to humor, Jungkook's was different from Jimin's, of course, and your dynamic with your best friend could never be replicated with somebody else but Jungkook was close to truly becoming your friend, and for that, it was getting easier to ignore his handsome face.
You may have had an embarrassing moment of panicking mentally at seeing such a man in the first meeting, but nowadays, you could hold a conversation with him without thinking how hot he was.
Dare you say, you were starting to think more platonically about him rather than romantically. As you said, you were an expert on going along with the tide.
Or maybe that was too soon a declaration, because there were moments, like now, when you were certain juvenile flirting insisted on happening between you, steering you clear from completely feeling wholly platonic about Jungkook.
"I certainly have a bigger hand than you."
As if you didn't know that, Jungkook brought his hand up to show you it. Confused but not totally minding the whole thing, you proceeded to extend your own hand towards his, pressing them both together. Predictably, his hand could have engulfed the entirety of your own.
Jungkook laughed at the sight, and you didn't know exactly who broke the physical contact first but you were glad it was over as soon as it started.
But you couldn't have forgotten the electric zap along your spine when your hand got so close like that to his. Couldn't have ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks when you were made aware of what you just did.
Wow.
Were you guys flirting? Was he flirting? It was flirting, right? Juvenile, at best, because this was what kids did in high school! And Jungkook's hand was so...
You never imagined what it felt like–never even crossed your mind until now. Expectations about how his hand felt never formed in your head because you sure as hell never thought about that kind of thing happening in the first place, but Jungkook's hand was the right balance of soft and hard. Calloused in a way most men's hands naturally were, and soft like enough comfort when held and touched.
It wasn't clammy, thank god, but you also wouldn't have thought he had clammy hands, solely because he just looked like he didn't. But god, was it big.
And my goodness, did it make you feel things.
You drank your water fast and cleared your throat, subtly, so that he didn't think too much of it.
"O-okay, but that's just genetics. Doesn't mean you could throw stronger punches."
You said in retaliation to one of your useless debates which now covered the coin-operated boxing arcade machine across the bus station nearby.
Jungkook leaned back against the monobloc chair that was definitely way too flimsy for him.
You were currently hanging out at the dining area of the food truck you came across a few days ago, forgoing Midday Miso for the night. Lately, Jungkook and you have been exploring a few more places other than there. You've tried other restaurants nearby, but ultimately, Midday Miso was still the top favorite and the food truck was becoming a staple in lieu of its convenience and just the overall vibe of eating outside and feeling the breeze of summer night air.
"You got me curious about the boxing machine." Jungkook said, crossing his arms.
"I held the highest score there for like a week, you know? Only did it though to impress the kids who liked to watch."
At that, Jungkook's face lit up in interest.
"We should do that sometime."
"Oh... I see, I see. You wanna impress the kids, too?" You playfully accused, squinting your eyes at him.
He chuckled and waved you off.
"It can be a challenge." Jungkook shrugged and looked at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes.
You let out a puff of breath, amused at his obvious antics.
"What's the catch?"
"Well... free boba delivered to your door for a week if you get the higher score. How's that sound?" He looked at you expectantly.
You chuckled before saying, "I'm gonna rip you off so bad, Jungkook."
"Only if you win, though." He said with a mischievous smirk. 
"Oh, wow. When, you mean. When I win. So what's in it for you?" You leaned your elbow on the table and studied his face.
He looked at you for a while, then, the smirk from earlier was wiped off and exchanged with a much gentler smile.
"Home-cooked dinner at my place next week Friday."
Your eyebrows met.
"You want me to cook you something? Jungkook, do you have a death wish? I may either give you unintentional food poisoning or burn your house down, there's no in between."
"No," Jungkook laughed at your insane conclusion. "Sorry, I should've specified. I mean if you lose, I'll be cooking us a meal at my place."
"Oh."
You were left staring at him, a bit dumbfounded.
He just said he wanted to cook you guys a meal. At his place.
He was inviting you to his place. His personal space.
"It won't be better than Midday Miso but I think I can keep up." Jungkook added with a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head in that seemingly boyish manner.
"Sure..." you responded, a bit delayed, much to your effort of not showing your big surprise at his offer. Before he noticed the way you were not believing what you heard, you chose to quip in a (hopefully) cheeky, "That is if you win, though."
Jungkook only hummed and then nodded.
"If I win."
He said, smiling at you.
This was dangerous.
The whole thing was teetering to something that was not very platonic, and just as you were starting to think this whole thing was!
Jimin always told you that you were bad at flirting, but in your defense, how were you supposed to know, exactly, if someone was flirting with you? A lot of people were friendly like that! Jungkook was maybe like that? Had you shown interest and he noticed so now he was playing into it? But that would be uncharacteristic of him. You didn't think he'd be the type to do something cruel like that...
But the tide was always rising and falling, they said, and the good thing was; you knew how to go along with the current.
So you did what you do best.
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"Would you like to donate to the poor?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's a chance this card's gonna decline because I am the poor."
The cashier looked you in the eye with an even more impassive look than the one she had before you got your turn on the counter.
"Could've just said no." She said, punching your order away and you had to shamefully swipe your card and leave to go over where Jimin was.
"The cashier just snubbed me for being poor." You complained to Jimin, moving your coat to the next seat and settling in in yours.
Jimin took a sip from his latte and looked at you dead in the eye and said, "I'll call the manager if you want."
"Fuck off." You retaliated immediately. Jimin snorted at your way too predictable response.
See, this has happened way too many times more than what your fingers could count. You could not even pinpoint the exact time when Jimin started to joke about going full-on Karen-mode when you complained about a single little thing at the places you went to.
Anyway, you were currently on a lunch break when Jimin texted to see if you were free. What better way to spend your lunch than with your best friend? The company's canteen food was getting tired and they hiked up their prices. Your office's kitchen also ran out of Solhee's – your coworker – biscuits and so you thought you had to make do of Jimin's money for that day. You told him your motives yourself and as a petty retort, he told you to pay for your own pasta — at a café that was way too expensive for its own good.
You stole a bite off his churros, and predictably, he rolled his eyes at you.
"Why'd you want to see me, by the way? What's up? You don't have training?" you glanced at your wristwatch, reading 12:40pm.
Soon, you were casually taking over his plate of churros. For how ridiculously priced it was, it sure tasted good as hell.
"I got the day off." Jimin shrugged.
You eyed him suspiciously almost immediately.
"Did you really...?"
It was a few seconds before Jimin gave in and took back his plate.
"Okay, no, I ditched the training today but for the record it's for a very important reason."
You put your hand over your chest and contorted your face in an awed, touched expression.
"The important reason being... meeting me?"
"Ew, no," Was Jimin's quick, disgusted, response – which earned a laugh from you as usual.
From your peripheral vision, you saw the waiter heading towards your direction and so you waited for him to come over and serve you your pasta and frappe. After thanking him, you huddled closer to your best friend and asked, "Okay, what is it then?"
Jimi pursed his lips, making your eyebrows meet.
"It's kinda... bummer news."
"You're pregnant?"
"No, you'd be way too happy and I can't be a single dad," He shook his head as if not even wanting to imagine that.
"Namjoon looks like he's gonna take care of it with you." You sing-sang, sipping on your coffee and winking at him indiscreetly – emphasis on indiscreetly because you never knew how to wink properly.
What you did not expect, was the look on Jimin's face when you mentioned Namjoon.
"Well..." He trailed off, and you waited for it curiously; anticipating his impending answer in return because your conversation was always quick-witted like that. But right now, Jimin's expression was devoid of any jokes. 
Not something you expected when you just mentioned his boyfriend.
"I— did something happen?" You quickly dropped the teasing tone and exchanged it with a concerned one, eyes looking at him with worry.
Jimin closed his eyes for a while and let out a deep breath. "See, that's the bummer news."
"Do you want to tell me? Or we can just—"
He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. But he did it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes – and this was Jimin. His eyes did not not reach his eyes when he smiled!
"He's going to Italy."
"Oh."
When the pause prolonged for over a minute, with you looking at him mouth agape, Jimin let out a heavy sigh once again and shook his head.
"I know. It's work... and I always understood that. He travels a lot and we're both okay with it. But it was usually just around the country, not another continent. I mean, what did he mean Italy? And that's not even the worst part. He knew a month ago he was going but he only told me two days ago and he's leaving Thursday," Jimin looked at you to take a pause, seemingly trying to look for a reaction.
You thought, that's tomorrow.
As if he read your mind, he nodded, sounding almost defeated.
"I know."
"Oh, Jimin..." You said, not exactly knowing what to say.
Jimin and Namjoon had been together for over a year. At least, officially, because they spent the last three years just casually hooking up on and off. You liked them together and had been more than glad when they finally put a label to it – exactly why you knew Namjoon enough to not badmouth him when you usually would men Jimin usually dated. You knew perfectly well that Namjoon genuinely cared about your best friend and he loved him. So if Jimin was at a loss for this obvious mistake on his boyfriend's part, even more so you were.
"He's been blowing up my phone ever since." Jimin added, glancing at his phone on the table. "Intentionally didn't charge my phone today so I don't receive his calls and texts."
That prompted you to remember the message you received from Namjoon last night.
"Oh, that's why he texted me yesterday. He asked about you, and I told you through text but you didn't answer." Things were starting to make sense now, and as you observed Jimin's face, they were getting clearer. "You never talked since?"
Jimin pursed his lips. He took his coffee back to his mouth and sipped while looking away. "Nope."
"Jimin." You tilted your head.
He looked at you again, and you knew exactly that he was thinking the same thing as you: It was within his right to feel off about what Namjoon did, but regardless; Jimin was being a little petty, and he needed to communicate with his boyfriend instead of giving him the cold shoulder.
There was a pout that formed on Jimin's lips right after.
"I know. I just..."
"He could've told you sooner?" He nodded at your words. You mirrored that. "He should have. Italy is not Busan – it's not just a train ride away."
Jimin sighed, looking exasperated now. "I told him that exactly. I'm not even mad he's going to Italy, I just think I deserve to know right after he was told about it."
You nodded. "You should really talk. It sounds like he wants to apologize, anyway, given that he's now trying to talk to me to get through you."
"Sorry you got caught up in this. I'm gonna talk to him about it."
"Eh, it's fine. Joon and I are also friends, you know?" You shrugged, genuinely not minding Namjoon coming to you. 
You liked Namjoon and thought that he was the perfect match for Jimin. They were cute together and just seemed to... take the best out of each other. You'd go to any lengths to keep them together, as long as Jimin wanted Namjoon and as his boyfriend. You've seen Jimin go from relationships to relationships, some just fleeting and simple dalliances, and most destructive and were just... not good for him. You've never seen your best friend truly happy and committed in a romantic relationship other than with Namjoon, and as someone who cared about him, you'd do a lot of things to make him happy.
"Here's another thing, his flight is tomorrow at 11:30pm in the evening. Mom's birthday dinner is at 10." Jimin usually had his composure everytime, and it was very rarely you'd see him show any worry because he liked everybody to think he was in control of every situation. You smiled. Classic Jimin. He'd only ever show his true nature to you though, and that was exactly why he looked at you with worried eyes and continued to say, "I really wanna be there to send him off."
The call time for his mother's party was at 10 and naturally people would start swarming in way past that time. If Jimin were to sneak out way too early, you knew his mother was not going to be happy about it and his father would give him an even bigger shit for it. Sure, he could cancel, but what would he say? That their supposed cishet son is sending off his boyfriend at the airport for the night? He couldn't reason work either because he didn't exactly have one.
After having his wrongful DUI accusation last spring– which was actually already settled, on the grounds that it was definitely not DUI and the owner of the other car just overreacted to a fender bender, the media was adamant on tactically using that to taint his family's image and it unfortunately succeeded – hence, why Jimin had been laying low these past few months; going to training programs, obeying his parents more than usual, doing what they wanted...
You sighed. Your best friend deserved so much better.
"Don't worry, I'll find a way to get us to leave early." You told him after awhile.
Jimin arched his brow, intrigued.
Waving him off, you said, "I can fake something."
As if hearing some magic words, Jimin suddenly perked up.
"No way you're using the diarrhea card?"
Giving him a dirty look, you shook your head. "Nah, not during a dinner party. It's gotta be something new and less... gross."
"Oh, oh!" Jimin put a finger over his lip. "What about a sprained ankle? Can you pull that off?"
You deadpanned. "Okay, you ought to pay me more if you want me to do that."
"I can, but I won't. Stop ripping me off, I'm your best friend."
"Jimin, I'll save you from your family. I'm great at this." You said jokingly, but you hoped that he knew you weren't just jesting and were serious about it.
With the appreciation masking your best friend's face, though, you knew he got the message right away, but as you looked at him longer, you realize that he was about to say something and you quickly pulled back, shaking your head.
Jimin quickly reacted. "No! You know what, I'm gonna say it—"
"Don't say it." You quickly cut him off, giggling while you shake your cup of coffee.
"You can't keep me from saying I lo—"
"Jimin, I will tell everybody in this place you watch dubbed anime, I'm serious."
He gasped, quite dramatically.
"You did not just go there!" Then, he lowered his voice a bit, arching his brow at you, vindicative when he said, "You wore skinny jeans a month ago."
"How dare you, you wore a fuckass poncho last week. I saw on your IG story."
"That was from Namjoon and he also gave you one, FYI."
You grimaced. "Tell him I love him but I'm not wearing a poncho, Jimin."
"I was gonna tell you I love you and that you're the best person ever but now I have to rethink all of that." He rolled his eyes, and when the banter ended with you having the last words, you laughed at his face.
"God, you're just never beating me at this."
"Please, we both know you write your mediocre insults on your diary every night trying to one-up me, __. But let's talk about something else."
"I'm not even gonna acknowledge the diary thing but, sure, shoot." You said, starting to eat your pasta.
Jimin looked at your food full of judgement and grimaced. "Is that shrimp? Your doctor is growing grey pubes as we speak," He commented, and you knew he was referring to your shrimp allergy so you shushed him.
"This is vegan shrimp. It's tofu."
He just shook his head, disagreement written on his face. But he let it pass, anyway.
"Anyway, how's Mr. 446?"
The pasta suddenly entered the wrong track.
"Girl," Jimin was quick to offer you the glass of water on his side and you were just as fast to drink it. "You okay?"
"I'm sure there are existing cases of people dying because food got on the wrong track while they're eating, but yeah, sure, I'm okay." When you finished the water, you looked at Jimin who was just doing the same thing.
Crossing his arms, he eyed you expectantly. "Well?"
"I mean... what do you want me to say?" you told him, and you could've sworn you did not want to show anything on your face but you were certain there was a huge smile on it and for some reason, you couldn't help it.
Jimin's jaw dropped, expressions of disbelief and amusement when he asked you curiously, "What do you mean by that?"
"Okay, look, Jimin—" You scratched the back of your head, feeling a little sheepish to tell him all about Jungkook. "He told me we'd get dinner at his place this Friday if he wins this... thing."
His mouth was agape by then and you couldn't help but laugh.
"You... slut."
You would absolutely be rolling off the floor if you weren't at a public place the moment he mouthed the word, but still, you couldn't help but retort back.
"Shut up, you can't be the only one whoring around in this friendship." Jimin snorted at that and you both had to stifle your laughter when you noticed a woman from across the room eyeing you both.
This was one of the reasons why Jimin and you didn't belong in public places other than bars or clubs – because you were way too rowdy together for civilization.
"So you're saying you're whoring around?" He eyed you suspiciously.
"Wrong information. It's actually kind of platonic."
Jimin quickly waved you off. "Babe, if a guy invites you to his place, nothing is ever platonic about it. What do you think you'll do together there? Stare at each other for two hours straight?"
God, you hated and loved that he enables your delusions.
"Okay, you're being insane about this. It's just dinner," Trying to fight off the not-so-very-platonic things that suddenly played in your head after hearing his previous remark. To show that you didn't care, you added for good measure, "—And anyway, we had some sort of deal about it so it's not definite."
Your best friend just shrugged. "I'm all for it. But you're sure he isn't a serial killer, right?"
"Jimin, god, no," you chuckled at that. "I mean, I don't really know for sure, but we're friends now and as far as I know, he's never shown signs of psychopathy."
Jimin and you hadn't hung out in a while, so you haven't really told him all about Jungkook yet and the things you got to know about him. He didn't even know his name. As far as he was concerned, Jungkook was still Mr. 446, and you were fine keeping it that way. He had a lot on his plate right now, anyway.
"Just being cautious." He sing-sang, putting both his hands in the air.
You shook your head.
"Anyway, we also need to talk about what we're gonna wear tomorrow," Jimin suddenly said. "You got the Pinterest board I sent you, right? For the inspo."
Grinning, you grabbed your iPad from your bag and got to the link immediately. Your phone died on the way to the café. Good thing you had another device and brought it with you.
"I also added a few things in here. Gold and black's the theme, right?" You clarified, scrolling through the board you and Jimin both contributed to. Your best friend took it upon himself to transfer seats so he could be beside you and look at your screen at the same time.
"You're gonna look so good in Schiaparelli, babe," Jimin said while checking out the pictures you added.
"It's just an inspo, I don't actually need to wear a Schiaparelli." You chuckled.
"Who do you think your best friend is?"
You both laughed at that but it stopped when a notification popped up on your computer. Recognizing the address as your work email, you were quick to hover over it. When you were about to open it to see the full message, your iPad suddenly died.
"Shoot." You looked at Jimin with a straight face. "I forgot to plug it in. Didn't notice the battery."
Jimin grimaced. "Didn't bring any power cable."
"We'll have to do with a phone. Mine died."
You were just about to ask him for his but then you remembered what he said about avoiding Namjoon, hence, his phone was of no use either. 
"We're gonna have to freestyle."
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Last year, Mrs. Park's party was held at a theater hall – your first time at one, by the way.
Tonight, it was at their mansion.
You've only ever been to the Park's a total of one time, which was now. Stepping a foot inside here for the first time in your life, the house felt unreal. It was the epitome of money and wealth and everything regal in the world – like a palace of some sort. They had butlers and guards at the gates so maybe that wasn't an exaggeration, but damn, Jimin truly came from money.
Regardless of how shiny the whole building was in both literal and figurative senses though, there was an emptiness to it. It didn't look lived in – which was a fair assumption for a house this big. It definitely did not look like people liked staying here, and maybe that was not a stretch, because as soon as he turned 18, Jimin moved away and lived in his own place ever since. You asked him on your way here and he told you it was his first time this year to visit his own house.
The decoration was sick, though. Granted, they must have surely hired people to do it but at least they'd hired excellent ones. You wouldn't have expected anything less from Jimin's mom.
Jimin and you arrived at 10pm sharp, and thankfully, people were already starting to fill the place up. It was now past 15 minutes to 10pm since you arrived and there really was nothing different that went on from last year; you saw some familiar faces, politicians, and celebrities. Jimin introduced you to some people as his girlfriend, and you got to have quick chats with his model friends.
You knew it didn't actually matter if you thought about it carefully, but there was truly nothing compared to the feeling you get when you see someone in the flesh that you only see on TV all your life. You didn't feel lucky to see them in person, per se, you were just poured over the realization that these people were actually real and they weren't just some sort of simulation to keep the entertainment industry of your country afloat.
Although, you did meet Han Sol – an actress whose works you genuinely admired. Jimin just told you her husband was his second cousin.
It wasn't later that Jimin and you were invited to his family's table, where some of his cousins and immediate family were.
The greetings went pretty normal. Normal as in: Jimin's mom didn't say anything about your weight first thing first. Granted, she didn't try to hide the look of disappointment on her face when she saw you with his son. Probably reeling at the fact that you were still "dating" each other even after a year — she was probably under the impression that it wasn't serious between you two last year. His father, meanwhile, was... quiet. As usual. A man who obviously didn't really say much except ask Jimin about the training program and his siblings' jobs.
Mr. Park didn't really talk to you, just like last year. Like you were almost invisible to him – and you were glad that was the case. He probably didn't like to acknowledge your supposed relationship in the first place. Probably knew that you were working a middle-class job and didn't want to know any further. But at least, he wasn't saying anything. That was nice.
"Where's your cousin?" Asked Jimin's mom suddenly, looking at his son.
"He said he got caught up in traffic. Sent 20 minutes ago." Jimin shrugged. You would ask him about which cousin they were referring to but they had like millions of it at these events so you didn't bother.
Mrs. Park shook her head disapprovingly. "That kid. Always late to the family dinners. Did Junghyun ever teach—"
"Hey,"
Your attention was then focused to the man who just arrived. Black tie, tall... dashing. Jimin was a good-looking individual and his family, as evil as they may be as per his words, were blessed with good genes. If you were to look at the new man that arrived to the table very carefully, you'd say he almost looked familiar.
"Oh, Junghyun!"
Jimin glanced at you and discreetly mouthed, "Cousin."
"Aunt, happy birthday." He said after laughing at Jimin's mother coos. He looked across the table and continued, "Hi, uncle. Jaeyul, Sunghoon, Jimin." They all greeted him back and you could feel the hairs on your nape starting to stand up when his eyes landed on you once again. "And this is...?"
"Oh, that's Jimin's girlfriend, __." Jaeyul, Jimin's brother said.
"Hi." you greeted him, waving a bit.
"Oh?" Junghyun immediately looked at Jimin, eyes not hiding his shock. When you trained your eyes on Jimin, you felt his fake smile. "That's great, man. I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Hi, miss...?"
"It's __." you filled in.
"Nice to meet you, __." He said with a smile. The more you looked at him, the more you could almost pinpoint who he looked like – but that shouldn't really matter.
Junghyun looked over Jimin's parents once again, "Anyway, sorry I'm a bit late, got caught up in traffic."
Jimin cleared his throat.
"How about you, Junghyun? Got a girlfriend yet?" He asked as soon as Junghyun sat on the opposite side of the long table.
You could see Jimin's mother's curiosity peaking at that.
"Tell us, dear. Last time you were dating Kang Iseul, right? The actress. You're still with her?"
Everybody at the table nodded while you almost choked on the smoked quail you were eating. He was dating Kang Iseul? She was a popular actress who announced a hiatus three years ago. That actress Kang Iseul?
Junghyun chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, aunt, that was my brother, and uh, no, I'm not dating anybody currently."
"Oh well. I just wish your brother stops dating that woman. I never really liked that girl. She acts way too self-righteous! I mean, who cut ties with their billionaire father and live independently just so they can say they're self-made? It's ridiculous." Jimin's mother said in that usual snotty tone of hers, and you could not possibly process all of what was going on.
If it wasn't clear to you a moment ago, it was crystal now. Unfortunately, you were a bit chronically online and were there in real time when one random tweet blew up about Kang Iseul being a nepotism baby. But was this guy's brother really dating her? The most important and concerning thing, though, was that: why was Jimin's mom always so annoying about who her family members date? And this was not even her immediate family, mind you.
"Jina," Jimin's father had a warning tone when he called her but Jimin's mom just shrugged him off with a "tsk!"
"Kids are so ungrateful nowadays, don't you think? Anyway, Junghyun dear, you remember the Kang gala I told you about two months ago?" Jimin's mom looked pointedly at Jimin and you bit your lip.
Of course, here comes her passive aggressive disapproval of you. 
"Kang Heesu and her sister Kang Hani will be there. Heesu is a wonderful woman," she chuckled, looking over at Jimin's direction subtly. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Couldn't she be more obvious about acting as a wingman for Jimin and Heesu? But she continued, just like she always did. "I also heard Kang Hani is going for senior partner at Yoon and Yang, you may be interested. Pretty lady."
Junghyun just awkwardly laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."
Jimiin's father suddenly spoke, making everyone look at him.
"Where is that kid?" He said, authority dripping through his voice. Jimin was obviously not close to his father, and who would be? Mr. Park was way too intimidating. You found it funny to think if he ever did anything remotely paternal towards his children.
"We were supposed to go together but he said he had something to finish. He'll be arriving later." Junghyun said, obviously not oblivious to the "kid" Mr. Park was referring to. You were way too uncaring to actually try to figure that out.
"I see." Jimin's father nodded. "How's Jeon and Min, Junghyun? I heard you were just appointed managing partner last week."
Junghyun responded with a "yes" and they started to talk about the law firm – you assumed – and other people they mutually knew related to the business.
You knew Jimin's complicated family tree was composed of all sorts of professionals, but damn, they had lawyers in here too. It was like out of a career day event at grade schools.
"Is it true Gukka's going to be CEO?" Jimin's mother said, joining the conversation.
You were glad they were doing all the talking. Last year, they talked to you like they were interrogating you and that was not nice.
"Well, dad's not giving up the company so soon. Gukka's going for interim CTO first." Junghyun said with a polite smile.
Gukka. That must be the brother of Junghyun, although it sounded more like a nickname than a real name.
"Your brother's a hard worker. He's looking at a CEO position, some are still at training programs." Jimin's father remarked with a pointed tone.
Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself. You thought it was gonna take awhile for the comparison to start, but it seemed they were determined to beat their record of one hour from last year.
You tried subtly looking at Jimin to see if he was okay or anything, but you felt him squeezing your wrist under the table. His face was devoid of any emotion as he continued with his own food.
Junghyun, meanwhile, was obviously taken aback by the response and also looked over at Jimin. He was quick to recover, though – probably knew that was a jab at his cousin just like every other person in the room. Atmosphere grew tense, and you had to squirm in your seat a little bit.
"Training programs help a lot, though." Junghyun awkwardly laughed. You were starting to feel bad for him as well.
"Well, you're lawyering. Trainings are important. Mine's kinda stupid." Jimin said which made everybody look at him, including you.
"You're learning anything yet, son?" His father pointedly looked at him.
"We'll see."
Jimin's dismissive tone made you feel the eye roll he would've done after saying that.
Look, he rebelled for the most part of his life so him being passive-aggressive towards his family was not a new thing, but to witness it was both nerve-wracking and honestly... funny. His parents were such assholes so they probably deserved his attitude.
Mrs. Park smiled a fake one before looking at you.
"Well, what about you __ dear? You're a... what was that again? How is that going for you?"
Because you wanted to piss them off, you mirrored her fake smile and said, "I got fired six months ago at my accounting job."
"Pft—" you pinched Jimin's arm at his reaction.
Of course he'd laugh at that. You asked him how you could piss his parents off tonight just to get back at them from last year and he told you to pretend to be unemployed or you work a minimum wage job because that was their biggest ick. Jimin didn't know you were going to come through.
"Oh."
The look on Jimin's mom's face looked as if she heard the most scandalous thing ever, and if his father's frown was deep even before the dinner started, his face was now below the ground. It felt satisfying to get those looks on their faces. Good! They were such assholes. Imagine getting devastated at someone being unemployed? Okay – for the record, being unemployed was devastating but these people weren't sympathizing with that, they found it humiliating in an elitist way– criminal almost. 
You nodded, your lips almost getting tired from stretching them too far.
"Yeah. Anyway, I started working at a local burger joint. You should visit us sometime."
"I'm vegan." Jimin's mom said, her face now drained with the fake joy she's worn all night.
"We have vegan options." you quipped. Jimin once again made a sound beside you, hiding his laughter.
"Wait, really? They offer vegan options at a street burger joint?" Sunghoon, the youngest of the Park brothers, asked.
You almost laughed at the genuine curiosity in his voice. He was still in high school and from what Jimin told you, he was a nice kid. He wasn't very close to any of his brothers, though.
"Nah, it's the only one in town." You bullshit one more time, drinking the wine beside you. "Sorry, can I excuse myself for a minute?"
They nodded and you stood up, heading to the bathroom, brisking once you got out of their sight to get there more quickly.
It was now 10:30 pm – meaning, you had to do something to get Jimin out of here now if he wanted to be on time at the airport to send off Namjoon.
Once you got inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. 
This whole thing was sucking the shit out of your soul, but you needed to get through it.
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It took you awhile to finish your pep talk in the bathroom.
If only you could've have locked yourself in there to avoid socializing with anybody, you willingly would. But you were running out of time and unfortunately, you had something to do and that was to fake some illness to get both Jimin and you out of here.
When you got out to approach the family's table one more time, you suddenly stopped in your tracks.
The table was at least fifteen meters away from where you stood, but you could clearly see the side in which Jimin's cousin, Junghyun, sat, facing your direction. He wasn't the issue – no, far from it. It was the guy beside him who wore the same set of black tie as him; the face attached to the body who wore it though, was someone you did not expect to see.
Why the fuck was Jungkook, Unit 446, here?!
From where you were, you could see him engaging with Junghyun and Jimin's parents. You couldn't hear them, of course, but it was clear that they were acquainted – close – even from afar.
Why did he look so comfortable with the Parks? Why was he at the family table laughing and conversing with everybody, including Jimin? Why did he seem like he went to many of these, like this was just another Thursday for him?
There was a waiter who walked past you and you were grateful for it because had it not been the case, people would start to get weirded out about you standing on the same place longer than necessary, looking stoned. That was also an opportunity to run away from the situation without Jungkook possibly seeing and recognizing you.
"I'll take this," You told the waiter and grabbed the glass of champagne and quickly turned on your heels, heading to the opposite side of the family table where the Parks, and apparently, Jungkook were.
You found yourself heading to the bathroom again, your feet seemingly developing a mind of its own as it led you there unconsciously. You knew you'd be in trouble if they found out about you putting the champagne glass in the sink, but you needed to get inside the toilet and think over everything that was happening tonight.
What the fuck. What the fuck!  Again, why the hell was Jungkook here?
As far as you knew, he was just a regular man that happened to be living across from you. He was just supposed to be some guy you were regularly hanging out with nowadays. Your friend. Your crush – whatever! What he wasn't supposed to be is be here at your best friend's mother's birthday party and hanging out with his family!
Your phone dinged, a message notification from Jimin welcoming you.
cuntress #1 [10:32pm]: girl what happened I saw u going back to the bathroom?
You didn't know why it was suddenly too hot, but you felt the balls of sweat starting to form on the side of your forehead.
You [10:33pm]: im going with the diarrhea excuse
cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: tbh idc atp I just wanna go to joon 😔
"Shit!"
Right! Joon. Namjoon. Jimin needed to go to Nmajoon as soon as possible.
cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: also another cousin has arrived u rmr jeon jungkook he's junghyun's brother cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: love this guy but moms starting to compare me to him and I need out right NEOW im justt aking hits after hits jesusssssss
You could just feel the blood draining from your face as soon as you read Jungkook's name in the text.
Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook. Gukka. Kook-a.
That was why the Junghyun guy looked familiar. Because he had the same coloring of Jeon Jungkook. Because they were goddamn siblings.
You started to replay some memories in your head, trying to figure out if you've ever heard Jungkook talk about his family in one of your conversations. But as far as you remembered, he never did. All you knew about him was that he was from the States, and he only got here because of work and he had a dog and as far as you were concerned, his cousin was definitely not Park fucking Jimin, your best friend.
Pacing around the confined space of the toilet, you tried to wrack your brain if you've ever mentioned Jimin to him and in the event that you did, why he never told you that he was his cousin – but you came up blank. Blank because you never told him about your best friend's name... and in turn, Jimin didn't know what Mr. 446's name was, either. They were both genuinely oblivious about the whole thing and couldn't have made you a fool in the situation.
In short, you were the one who was stupid as hell for not connecting the dots sooner.
"Hey, you just landed?"
If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.
"Nah, you want me to pick you up?" Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. "Sure, I'm free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?" He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. "Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?"
It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, "Well, my cousin's apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on."
"Fuck me." You hissed, remembering that time when Jimin told you about his cousin staying here for three months because of work.
cuntress #1 [10:35pm]: its either ur taking a guinness world record breaker piss there or u really do have diarrhea now and ur shitting cuntress #1 [10:36pm]: anyway get this, jungkook's gonna be interim cto at your company did u know that??????????????????
You almost dropped your phone upon reading the last message.
What the hell did he mean by that?
Heart beating fast as if it wanted to break out of your own ribcage, you closed your eyes and read Jimin's message once again. There was no way he would be shitting you about any of this. He knew where you worked at and you knew your current company was his uncle's, and now that you knew Jungkook was his cousin...
Shit. Was this what they were talking about at the table earlier? About Junghyun saying his brother was gonna be interim CTO? Did he mean Jeon Jungkook all along? Your freaking neighbor?
Suddenly, you remembered the email you received that afternoon that you never bothered to check again because you simply forgot about it. Who even actually checks their work email? Literally no one. You spend your weeks facing your computer while email flew in like porn ads on a shady website, you weren't about to willingly go to the app and check it on your leisure time.
But maybe you should have.
Fingers involuntarily shaking in their wake as you switched to your work email on your phone, you clicked on the recent unread message that was on top from the HR department.
Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this meeting is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO  for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this ceremony is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department
You knew that feeling when you were just taking hits and hits? This was it.
So not only was Jeon Jungkook Jimin's cousin, he was also gonna be the interim CTO of the company you were currently working at. He was technically going to be your boss, and you would be both working in the same place all the while living across each other where he would see you taking out your trash every Sunday morning in your worn-out highschool PE shirt and pants. He was going to be your boss working at the company you complained to him about on the nights you walked together to your shared apartment complex.
You flirted with Jungkook. You flirted with the guy who was the son of the owner of your whole company building – and not only that, he was your best friend's cousin, to add salt to injury.
You [10:38pm]: jimin we need to get out of here
cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ive been saying
You [10:38pm]: but i cant go out there again. Just tell them i had a problem in the bathroom??
cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ok on it  cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: im kind of convinced u shitted in there tho????????
You rolled your eyes, but at the same time found an opportunity in that. Jimin can't know the truth.
You [10:39pm]: u cant judge me for having a very human experience fuck u the cake i ate earlier was giving cake boss
cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: KJAHFKGSIDFHDSHASFHSKJBF
You [10:39pm]: im literally doing this for u and joon
cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: IKNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!thanks to ur stomach problems cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: im going there
You [10:40pm]: make sure they don't see us again to really sell the whole im-embarassed-thing
cuntress #1 [10:40pm]: ON IT! Were going out the back door I don't think they'll notice
You couldn't even find it in you to laugh a little bit at your silly exchange and scheme, because you were way too stressed about what you just found out.
You let out a controlled, heavy breath, leaning your back on the door and shut your eyes aggressively.
"What the hell am I gonna do after this?"
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PART TWO | ....
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lovelivision · 4 months ago
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BAD ROMANCE.ᐟ
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: gojo satoru/reader
𝐖𝐂: 9.4k
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your love life is in a tragic state, all your dates go poorly and just when you think you found a nice guy you could like, that ends poorly too. good thing you have your best friend gojo to look out for you !
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, cheating (not done by reader or gojo), dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting, praise, p in v sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, big dick!gojo, tease/mean!gojo (he likes embarrassing reader), jealous!gojo, gojo is down BAD, use of pet names, that's all !! (i think :3)
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Checking the time again, you sigh, it’s bordering on an hour since you first sat down to wait for your date. The thought that you had been stood up entered your mind maybe half an hour ago but now it’s practically been cemented.
Maybe you should just cut your losses and leave but this is a nice place, it’d be a shame to waste the reservation. Hope that your date is going to miraculously show up has left you though. Opening your texts, you think of who to message, the idea to message Gojo briefly crossing your mind before you decide he is the worst possible person to tell about this.
Instead, you message Shoko, asking if she’s free and telling her of your failed date. It takes her a few minutes to reply and when she does, instead of a straightforward response, you receive a cryptic and ambiguous saluting emoji. Deciding to take that as confirmation of her presence, you begin waiting… again.
You think you’ve reached your waiting quota of the year, no more waiting on people. Why do people never seem to value your time? While lamenting to yourself silently, you don’t notice the arrival of someone incredibly familiar, someone incredibly exasperating.
“I’m hurt you know.”
The words startle you and as you look up to find the source of them, you’re confronted with Gojo standing beside you. Pouting like he’s feeling extremely slighted by you for some indiscernible reason.
You almost sputter at him, his presence completely unexpected, “What are you doing here?”
He ignores your question, continuing with his faux pain, “My best friend gets stood up and instead of messaging me… she messages Shoko? That stings.”
Sighing off his dramatics, you ask again, “What are you doing here, Gojo?”
“What else would I be here for?” He smiles big at you, moving to sit in the chair opposite you, flopping down and making himself comfortable, “I’m here to be your date!”
Propping your head up on your hand, you grumble at him, “How did you even know I was stood up?”
“I was with Shoko when you messaged her,” he shrugs easily.
You squint at him, “Why are you here and not her?”
“Because it is my duty as your best friend to be there for you.”
So stubborn about the weirdest things, you’ve known each other forever and sure, maybe he is your best friend, but this is something that has bruised your ego a bit. It’s silly, but for some reason… you don’t really want for Gojo to see you like this.
Sulking, you huff, “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t wanna waste the reservation.”
“Don’t lie, you dressed up all cute and the dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up?” He frowns like he’ll get angry if he thinks about it for too long, “It’s a big deal.”
“You’re more upset about it then I am,” you play at indifference and while you don’t really care about your failed date, you are thinking really hard about how he said you dressed cute.
“That’s just ‘cause you’re always settling for less than what you deserve,” he grows a little more irritated, like his observation annoys him more than it annoys you.
Defending yourself with a grumble, “That’s not true.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he smiles in a manner that exudes disbelief. Because it does, Gojo has witnessed you settle for less nearly every single day of your lives and every time he has to grit his teeth and cope.
Crossing your arms, you snark at him, “Don’t patronise me, Gojo.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he still has that smile plastered on his face.
You glare at him from across the table but sit in silence, not really having anything else to say to him right now. Annoyed at yourself for losing the back and forth between the two of you for not the first time and definitely not the last.
Gojo, however, is not capable of sitting in silence for too long and so, he whines at you, “Anyways, I thought I was always your first call when things went wrong.”
Looking away from him, you scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly, “You are… for other things.”
Catching onto your meaning, he asks, “So, you never call me when things go wrong on dates?”
“…Correct.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not really something I thought would matter to you this much.” The truth is, you’ve been on much worse dates, dates where they actually show up but prove themselves to be some of the worst people. You always call Shoko though… that or you just brush it off.
Telling Gojo about your dating life feels weird, it’s not like he tells you about his.
His mouth downturns at your remark, “Anything that involves you matters to me.”
“It’s not like you tell me about your dating life,” you counter, starting to feel somewhat badly.
“I would, if I had one,” he leans back into his chair more, “I’m not currently dating though.”
Sheepishly, you say, “Oh…well…I am.”
“I know that now,” his eyes focus on you, “Just how many dates have you gone on recently?”
“Recently?” he nods at you, “Uhm… a few every couple of weeks, not heaps but… frequently enough that getting stood up isn’t the worst thing to happen to me lately.” You laugh slightly at a memory, “You know, on one of them, the guy actually got back with his ex during our date, like he–”
You cut yourself off when you realise Gojo isn’t experiencing the same amount of enjoyment at the recounting of your date a few weeks ago. “Why is this bugging you?”
“It’s not,” his tone is certain but the expression he’s wearing is anything but. Clearly annoyed by something.
Challenging his logic, you ask, “Do you want me to tell you about my dating life?”
He thinks on it for a second, “No.”
Tilting your head at him, “See? That’s what I thought–”
“–But I want you to call me when things go badly,” his gaze even on you, unwavering.
“You’re annoying,” you huff out a breath.
His face brightens up again, “And yet I’m still your best friend.”
You can only roll your eyes at him because he’s right, he’s completely annoying and also completely your best friend.
After that failed date that turned into you having dinner with Gojo, you decided you would listen to him and call him whenever a date goes south. He seemed actually bothered by the fact you weren’t relying on him more, so you decided that if something does go wrong, you’d tell him about it.
However, your dating life has been going pretty swimmingly the past couple weeks. You’ve actually found someone you wouldn’t mind being with, having gone on a few dates with him now. You’ve pretty much been exclusively seeing him, he’s taken you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Previous dates barely made it through one meal, but this guy managed to appeal to you enough to take you out multiple times.
It’s your fault that you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe he was different but as you sit on the couch in his apartment, his assumed girlfriend yelling at him, you can see he’s just like everyone else in the dating scene these days. It’s that or you just have really bad luck when it comes to your romantic life.
For the third time, you try to leave but he holds you back, “Wait no, please don’t go, this is just a misunderstanding!”
You shrug him off you, his touch making you feel disgusting.
Going to say something in reply, but his girlfriend speaks first, “So now you’re cheating on me and trying to keep her here?”
He sputters, like he forgot she was here for a moment, “No! Babe, I’m not cheating on you!”
Awkwardly, you scratch at the back of your neck, “Listen, I’m going to be so honest, I think you’re a bad person and any interest I had in you is gone. I’d just really like to leave now.”
He’s wearing an annoyed look on his face, “How do you even expect to get home? I drove you here.”
She scoffs at him from by the door, foot tapping impatiently, “Now you’re offering her a ride home? Are you fucking serious right now?”
Walking to the front door, you shuffle around his girlfriend, “I’m just gonna… slide right past you.” Pausing after opening the door and turning back to address her, “Uhm… Just in case he tries lying to you… we went on multiple dates over the past couple weeks.” Standing awkwardly for an extra moment as her face twists in realisation, “Bye!” You rush out the door, speed walking to the elevator.
The screaming and yelling gets louder from their apartment, able to hear them until you finally get in the elevator and start heading down to the ground floor. In the lobby, you pull out your phone and sigh dejectedly, scrolling for Gojo’s contact, you need a ride home.
He picks up pretty quickly, “Hello?”
You get straight to the point, not feeling particularly great right about now, “…I need a ride home.”
“Well, good evening to you too,” he replies, voice full of mirth, “You know. people normally exchange pleasantries over the phone before immediately asking for things, I’ve been told – by you actually – that just asking for things straight up can be read as rude, so–”
“–Satoru.”
The use of his name has him going quiet, stopping his tangent instead to ask, “Where are you?”
You’re tired, your mood travelling through the phone as you answer, “Some apartment, I’ll text you the address…”
“You okay?” He checks.
You can’t help the pause before your reply, “…Yeah.”
His concern for you growing at your seeming uncertainty, “You gonna tell me what happened?”
It’s a little embarrassing, you think, but yeah, you’ll tell him about it, “Later… I just wanna go home now.”
“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up before you get to thank him.
You text him the address and then head out the front of the building, waiting for him to get you. While you’re waiting, you find yourself wondering if that girl will stay with him, you hope she doesn’t, she deserves better than him.
When Gojo pulls up, you silently slip into the passenger seat, you’re expecting him to immediately drive away but he turns and looks at you. His eyes examining you carefully, scrutinising you.
Turning your head to the side, “What?”
“Just making sure you’re okay.” His hands reach out and for a second you think he’s going to touch you, but he pulls on the seatbelt and clicks it into place for you.
You mumble out at him, dismissive, “I’m fine.”
He hums at you, in that way that tells you he doesn’t believe you even a little bit but he’s letting it go for now. Instead focusing on getting you home.
Back at your apartment, Gojo follows you all the way inside, you thought maybe he would just drop you home and leave you alone, but he’s followed you into your living room. You don’t know if you have the energy for him right now, feeling so drained. Probably feeling this way because you’re incapable of finding a decent guy to date.
Couch looking so inviting, you flop down onto it face first, mumbling out, “Gojo, will you just be my boyfriend?”
He seems taken aback by your sudden ask, choking on his own spit, coughing out a confused, “What?”
Sighing, you cryptically answer, “I don’t think I’m built for the dating scene.”
When he finishes hacking up a lung, he taps your legs, to which you hold them up so he can sit down. His hand tugging them back down once he’s sat, “What happened, sweetheart?”
Your voice is still muffled by the couch cushions, “Been seeing a guy for a couple weeks now–”
“–The same one?” Gojo cuts you off.
Humming out a, “Yes and–”
Again, he cuts you off, “–That’s pretty serious…”
I know but­–”
“–Why didn’t you tell me about him?” His tone growing slightly alarmed by the apparent seriousness of your dating life.
Becoming somewhat annoyed, you push yourself out of the cushions and sit up to face him, your legs still resting in his lap, “You said you didn’t wanna hear about my dating life.” You point an accusatory finger at him.
“Yeah, but casually dating and actively seeing someone is different–” He’s not really sure if he’s making a fair point or not but sticking to it like he is.
“–Does it matter?” You’re looking at him incredulously, not sure if there is a difference.
He’s steadfast in his opinion, “Of course it matters.”
“I don’t think it should, especially since–”
“–If you’re seeing the same guy multiple times that means you were actually interested in him­–” He’s annoyed at himself for not realising you were seeing the same guy, for not asking questions, not realising how serious you were getting about one guy. So caught up in this one fact that he’s lost sight of his original purpose of being here.
“–Can you stop cutting me off!” You raise your voice at him, getting sick of how much he’s been interrupting you, “I’ve been trying to tell you that he had a girlfriend the whole time,” you purse your lips and look away from him, feeling embarrassed, “That’s why I asked you to come get me.”
“Oh…” He feels bad now.
“…Yeah, she showed up while I was there, and it was really uncomfortable, and I didn’t exactly feel safe.” You sigh, slumping, “And now I just feel really bad about dating.”
Completely serious when he suggests, “Maybe you should stop.”
“Stop dating?”
Consistent in his confirmation, “Yes.”
Meeting his gaze again, “How else am I going to meet someone?”
He rolls his eyes at your question, irritated for reasons unknown to you, “Why do you need to date someone now anyways?”
You don’t really see his point, what does he mean ‘why?’… why else do people date? “Maybe I’m lonely, maybe I seek companionship, maybe I’m like every other normal person?”
“You have me though,” you’d think he was joking if he weren’t so straight faced.
Unsure how to go about answering when it seems pretty straight forward to you, “Gojo… that’s not the same thing, we’re friends, we don’t look at each other that way.”
“Says you.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’d date you in a heartbeat,” he folds his arms over his chest, “In fact, you’re the only person I want to date.”
You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, “Get real, that’s not what I meant.”
His head tilts at you, “What did you mean then?”
“I’m talking about romantic and sexual attraction,” you’re avoiding his gaze again.
So casual in how he bluntly asks, “You think I’m not sexually attracted to you?”
His question catches you off guard slightly, “It’s not just about sexual attraction, Gojo,” you shake your head, “if that were the case, I’d just be having one night stands all the time, I want a relationship with someone…”
He nods his head like he suddenly understands, “Ah, so you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”
“You shouldn’t be.”
“Why not?”
Disbelieving when you look at him, “Are you serious right now? We’re friends.”
“Yeah, we are friends, but I also happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to you.”
How do you even respond to a confession like that? He’s not even flustered, completely nonchalant in how he’s just told you that he’s interested in you. “I don’t think–”
“–Are you going to tell me you’re not interested in me? Even a little bit?”
“We’re friends.”
“Is that the only thing stopping you?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “Because if it is, then it’s a little arbitrary, no?”
The beginning of a frown settles on your features, “What are you trying to get me to say? That I’d date you if we weren’t friends, that I’d fuck you?”
He smiles at you, “Sure, but if you would if we weren’t friends, I’m saying you should even though we are.”
Frown deepening, “You’re being serious?”
“I’m being so serious,” he leans in slightly, hand moving to your face, thumb smoothing over the crease between your brows.
Looking at his lips before catching yourself and turning your head to the side, away from his touch, away from his enticing lips.
He sighs at your reaction, “You know, I’ve been interested in you from the beginning, and maybe I’m an idiot for not saying anything but watching you seriously try dating someone else might just kill me.”
You had no idea he liked you, you’ve liked him at different points in your life too, but he always seemed so out of reach from you, and you never wanted to ruin the friendship, so you forced yourself to move on. It feels a little unfair that you’re finding out now he’s liked you the whole time, “What are you asking of me?”
“I’m asking you to give me a chance,” his hand gently guides your face to look at him again, “I’m asking you to seriously try dating me.”
You’re trying to make a decision, trying to figure out how to answer him, if you should even give him a chance but the way he’s looking at you, how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips is distracting you.
Brows pulling up, voice quieter than before, “Gojo, you need to stop looking at me like that if you want an answer.”
“Like what?” He plays dumb.
“Like you really wanna kiss me,” you murmur back.
“Can’t help it…” he leans in a little bit more, “Maybe if you let me kiss you, I’ll stop.”
“Satoru,” you warn.
“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours for a moment, trying to see what you want.
He’s making you dizzy, “I can’t make a choice when you’re this close.”
Humming at you, “Why not?”
“Can’t think,” you blurt it out before really thinking about how it will come across.
He’s smiling smugly, “Then don’t.”
You don’t know who leans in first, all you know is his lips are on yours and they’re soft. Kissing you gently, trying to learn how you like to be kissed. Growing more insistent the longer you let him kiss you, the years of his need bleeding into it.
One of his hands traveling down your body, resting on your hip, the other cradling your face. He’s leaning into you more, pushing your body down into the couch, him following behind it, never parting from your lips very long.
Hand now holding himself above you, kiss growing urgent, tongue licking into your mouth, meeting yours in a way that makes your body tingle. If you thought his proximity was making you dizzy before than his kiss might have you actually passing out. Skin growing hot at how his hand on your face angles you, how he deepens the kiss effortlessly.
If Gojo were more aware of himself, of the precarious position he’s put himself in, he might be a little bit more careful with how feverish his kisses are and how needy he’s getting but when he’s finally getting to kiss you after years of not being able to, he can’t really control himself. The little control he does have, slipping when you moan into his mouth, his own moan shared in the kiss.
It's you who parts the kiss, it had to be because he certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it. If he had his way, he’d have his mouth on you until he died. In the back of his mind, he knew that kissing you would be good, but he didn’t think he’d get so lost in it. Somewhat embarrassed at himself for how aroused he’s gotten over your lips on his.
Your huffed breaths are intermingled with how close you both are to each other, Gojo hovering over you, speaking into your mouth, “Have you made a decision yet?”
You’re having trouble thinking still, especially with how his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, “I…uhmm…”
When he realises how dazed you are, two things happen. One; his ego grows about ten times bigger and two; he pulls back from you, still close enough that if you tugged on him, you could kiss him again but enough to hopefully give you room to think.
“Come on, don’t keep a guy waiting,” he’s taunting you lightly, taking joy in how hazy your eyes are as you look up at him.
“Okay,” you nod.
“Hmm? Okay what?”
Taking another moment to clear your brain fog, you answer again, “Okay, I will seriously try dating you.”
“Can’t date anyone else while you do,” he conditions.
“Okay,” agreeing easily.
He adds, “Have to seriously think about me being your boyfriend.”
Again, agreeing, “Okay.”
“Have to keep kissing me right now,” smile growing on his features.
“Ok–” frowning at him when you realise, “–Hey.”
“You don’t want to?” His hand tilts your head up by your chin, looking down into your eyes, “Because you look like you want to.”
Pouting at him, “Don’t be cruel.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” his smile evil as he continues to look down at you.
Leveling him with an even stare, you state, “I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”
“Got a dirty mind, huh? All I asked for was a kiss.”
You glare at him and then try to avoid his gaze, voice smaller than before, “You don’t kiss like that’s all you want.”
His smile is crooked as he asks, “And how do I kiss?”
Feeling your skin flare at his taunting question, at how he leans in again, his mouth right over yours, “Dizzyingly.”
He breathes out an amused laugh before he’s slotting his mouth back over yours, how you described his kiss is accurate. He kisses you in such a way that you can’t think straight even if you really want to, which is why it’s probably a bad idea to keep letting him kiss you if you don’t want to sleep with him before you even get a first date.
Abruptly parting your mouth from his, gasping out, “Wait,” taking a second to catch your breath. Gojo groans softly at the loss of your lips, his forehead resting on yours waiting for you to speak.
“What’s wrong?” He asks when you don’t continue.
“You need to stop kissing me.”
“Oh?” He hums at you in thought, his lips now trailing down the side of your face, only to rest right by your ear, “And why’s that?”
His voice has goose bumps raising on your skin, “If you keep kissing me like that…” your volume gets quieter as you mumble out, “…I’ll wanna have sex with you.”
He has the fucking audacity to laugh at you, “That worked up by a few kisses, huh?” Taunting you like he isn’t the hardest he’s ever been, cock twitching at your confession.
“Shuddup.”
His words are dripping with delight, “At least we know you’re sexually attracted to me.”
He licks lightly at your ear, and you feel like you almost jump out of your skin, gasping at it. Hands reaching out to push back on his chest, “You’re a mean man, Gojo.”
“At this point…” He looks you over, unmoved by your hands, “…I think it would be meaner to deprive yourself.”
“We are not sleeping together for the first time on my couch before we even go on a date,” you’re trying to stay steadfast but he’s making it hard when he keeps looking at you like that.
“So… you’re saying I should take you to the bedroom?” When you look at him in exasperation, he smiles softly, “I’m just kidding, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, but I will point out – for the last time – that you look an awful lot like you want to.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to… I just feel like if you’re gonna make me seriously consider you then I should date you properly too,” you avoid his gaze, feeling unusually sincere.
Abruptly, he states, “It wouldn’t be our first date though.”
“What?”
He’s a little distant when he answers, having trouble concentrating on the conversation when you’re pouting your lips at him like you are, “I count a couple weeks ago as our first date.”
“When I was stood up?” You scoff, “That does not count.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wasn’t even planned.”
“No but we ate dinner together and you were dressed awful cute, I count it as a date,” smirk present on his face as he continues to hover over you.
Ignoring his compliment, you continue to try and reason, “We were still just friends then though.”
“So, we aren’t ‘just friends’ now?” He’s being a smart ass, he knows what you mean but he’s not going to let up on this, taking it as a small victory in making you think of him as more than just a friend.
You return earnestly, “I don’t wanna count it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wasn’t meant to be you on that date…” before he can get hurt over those words, you clarify, “…don’t get me wrong, I had fun and I’m glad you showed up, but it wasn’t planned to be you… when we go on our first date… I want it to be meant for you.” You’re unsure if you verbalised yourself in a way that makes sense, feeling much more nervous all of a sudden.
He’s looking at you so intently and you’re worried you’ve upset him somehow, “I know you said I need to stop kissing you, but that’s what I want more than anything right now.” He leans in closer, pausing just shy of your lips.
His words make your heart stutter, throwing caution to the wind as you close the distance between the two of you again, kissing him fully. Letting his mouth consume your ability to think critically, all too happy to fall into him.
Your control of the situation is slipping more and more away from you and so is the ability to care, not minding at all how you’re becoming more and more okay with how hot your body is starting to feel.
Hands reaching up and fisting the material of his shirt, pulling him down into you, his hips colliding with yours. Almost entirely instinctually – and somewhat purposefully – your legs wrap around his lower half. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, gripping the fattest part of it harshly.
You both moan into the kiss and he parts his mouth from yours, voice straining when he speaks, “Sweetheart, if you really don’t want to do anything more than this then you need to tell me to get off you right now.”
Looking at him through your lashes, you play coy, “But I like having you on top of me.”
A shiver runs down his spine, “You’re evil,” he grunts, fighting the urge to grind down into you.
He’s been pining after you for years and it feels like torture to be this close to you, pelvis pressed up against yours, having you so pliant and needy under him. He can feel his sanity slipping from him the longer you stay like this, and your words make it harder for him to pull away.
“Satoru–” when you say his name his hips jut into yours, making you gasp against him.
He hisses an apology through his teeth, “Sorry – fuck – sorry, what’s up?”
Deciding to be forward, “Take me to my room?”
Trying to hide the excitement from his face, he checks with you, “You’re sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you give a small nod, feeling shy.
You really do want to though, more than anything. Only initially so hesitant because this doesn’t feel like the right way to do things but then again, your whole relationship with Gojo is a little less than conventional at times.
When he determines that you’re sure of yourself, he’s off you in the blink of an eye. Quick in his movements as he pulls you up along with him. Before you can even really register that you’re off the couch, you’re thrown over his shoulder as he walks hurriedly to your room.
“Someone’s eager,” you laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.
The chuckle he returns is humourless, “You have no fucking idea.”
You’re dropped down onto your bed unceremoniously, bouncing slightly at the force of it. Your arms reach out behind you to support yourself, palms splayed against your bedspread. Gojo is already tugging his shirt off and over his head, thrown and lost to some corner of your room.
“Gojo, breathe.”
“Don’t need to breathe,” he smiles large at you, “Do need your pants off though.”
Listening to him, you shimmy your pants down your legs, mumbling to him about how bossy he is.
“You know… I’m hearing a lot of complaining but I am also seeing a whole lot of direction following,” he teases.
You grumble at him, “If you’re going to be like this the whole time then I’m changing my mind.
“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone, especially not with how you’re rubbing your thighs together.” His large hands grip your thighs, “Feeling horny?”
You don’t really want to answer him honestly but denying it feels like a trap, like he’d do something to prove you wrong and the last thing you want is for him to torture you. You’re already so pitifully slick from kissing him.
Fighting with your embarrassment, you give him your best pleading face, “Mhm, really horny.”
The smugness drops from his face, hands suddenly tugging you down the bed as he drops to his knees. Mouth leaving kisses from your knees to your inner thighs, your breath catching in your lungs. Not expecting him to be so forward, though you don’t know what you were expecting if not that.
“Gojo, you don’t have to–”
“I want to,” his eyes flick to yours, “Plus, if you wanna take me, you’re gonna need the prep,” smile growing at how your eyes grow wider.
Disbelief clear in your expression, accusing, “You’re full of it.”
He’s not worried about your scepticism, “You’ll find out for yourself in a bit.” He shrugs easily, “Now, can I put my tongue on your pretty pussy, or do you have more to say?”
He asks but his attention is already completely on your covered cunt, a single finger moving under the elastic of the waist band just to snap it back against you. A small noise of shock leaving you, “Ah! Do what you want…”
Oh, he looks so excited by your words, “You mean it?”
You’ll be honest and admit you weren’t really paying attention to what you were saying, brain hazy with how close he is to your core, skin pricking at how you can feel his hot breath against you. Feeling so unusually exposed and sensitive and you can’t tell if you’re that worked up or if he just has that effect on you.
“Mhm,” you’re nodding your head at him, giving him a green light, for what, you’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you want him to do something – anything.
“These are some really cute panties…kinda bothers me,” he’s still playing with the edges of them, annoyed when remembering you were with another guy tonight. Were you going to sleep with him tonight?
Pulling yourself up onto your elbows, you question, “What?”
Eyes flicking towards yours, “I’m a bit of a jealous guy.”
“I know this,” he always has been quick to get worked up over things regarding you, though it makes a little more sense after learning he’s liked you for so long.
He smiles at you, but his eyes are humourless, “Of course you do,” he fists at the material of your panties, “But the idea of another guy getting so close to seeing you in these… has me feeling really annoyed.”
The sound of fabric tearing fills your ears, he’s just ripped your panties off you completely. There is no salvaging them, completely useless as he throws them over his shoulder.
“Hey! those were my good pair!” They were one of the nicer pairs you own.
“Who cares about that?” His tone is dismissive, hands spreading your legs obscenely, eyes greedily looking at your uncovered pussy, “Your cunt is much cuter.”
God, you feel like you might pass out, face suddenly extremely hot, “Don’t be crude.”
“Hmm? …but I think you like it though…” his thumb swipes through your folds and you gasp at him, “Got so much wetter when I said it.”
He’s quick to begin rubbing circles into your clit, thumb giving even pressure. The stimulation has your arms shaking, threatening to give out from under you. Biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning, feeling embarrassed at how intently he’s shamelessly staring at your cunt.
Continuing to speculate, he says, “That or you like being praised…” he smirks evilly, “You like being praised, sweetheart? Being told how good you’re being for me?”
Your heart leaps in your chest, brows upturning, trying to hide your outward reaction to his words, “Hah– No…”
“Such a bad liar,” eyeing your face, “Wearing a really great expression right now though.”
Fighting the urge to grind down, you deny, “Not lying.”
He ignores you, “Could be both though,” he’s continuing to ponder on what you react most to, “Which is it, sweetheart? You like how crude I am, or do you like the praise?”
You don’t plan on answering him, eyes closing harshly against his intense gaze, feeling way too exposed. His touch leaves you and you open your eyes in alarm, trying to see what he’s doing. You see his smile before he’s leaning in and licking up the length of your pussy, eyes locked on yours the whole time.
Surprised moans slip from you, arms almost giving out completely, head rolling back. His arms wrap around your legs to hold you steady, face pushing closer into you, tongue flicking at your clit before pressing into your pussy hole.
He’s relishing in your sounds, in how wet you are, how you taste and smell, almost forgetting why he did this in the first place. Pulling away from you with a lewd smack of his lips, smiling big at the whine you let out from the loss of him.
Huffing slightly as he says, “Asked a question, not licking your pussy again until you answer it.”
“I don’t know,” your head lolls forward, eyes wet.
Head moving to the side to nip lightly at your thigh, “Shall we find out then?”
You jolt at the sensation, face twisting in confusion at him.
“You don’t gotta do anything, sweetie, just stay like this,” his hands push back on your thighs though, opening you up to him even more. “Been doing so good for me, sound so pretty,” he coos at you.
Brows furrowing at his words, heart skipping beats at his sudden praise, feeling fuzzy all over.
He hums in thought, “So fucking wet for me, dripping everywhere, creamy fucking pussy.”
You twitch at the switch, wanting to crawl away from him.
“I think I’ve just realised something,” he glances up at you, “Got such nice reactions to both things I said, do you know how much wetter you got, cunt twitching and drooling for me.”
You try pulling from him, but his hold is firm, “Gojo!” You warn.
He might be enjoying this too much but learning about what gets you going is way too enticing, especially when he doesn’t have to do much to have you looking so pathetic. “Trying to run away from me,” he tsks, “But you’re fucking dripping, so reactive, so sweet.” His eyes are glazing over, working himself up.
“‘Toru!” You call for him again, you feel like you’re on fire, beyond embarrassed.
He groans at the nickname, not hearing it from you in so long, you used to always call him that. He liked it a little too much, cock leaking for you. He feels as wrecked as he looks when he looks up at you, “I think you like both,” is his conclusion.
Reaching up, he grabs at your hand and pulls it down to your cunt, his fingers guiding your own through your slick. You gasp at it, not expecting for yourself to be so soaked. Biting at your lower lip when he moves your fingers over your clit, teasing you.
Dazed when he asks, “Ever been this wet, pretty?”
You shake your head, “No… I didn’t know I…”
Fingers moving yours to your entrance, “Poor thing, didn’t know how slutty her pussy was.” Feeling the way your cunt clenches at his words, his face bright with it, “Fucking great though, in love with it,” and again, your brows raising in realisation, “Yeah… you know now, don’t you?”
“You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you pout, head dizzy.
“No, I’m making you feel so fucking horny, not my fault that you like being embarrassed and praised at the same time,” he pulls your fingers away from your core, moving them to his mouth, sucking them clean.
You remove your fingers from him, coming to rest back in the bed, feeling breathless as you look down at him. “What do you want from me?”
“Want you to admit it, want you tell me how much you like when I talk to you,” his hand tickles up the skin of your inner thigh.
“…Like it,” you mumble out.
Humming in thought, “Hmm, not good enough, don’t think I believe you.”
Repeating, louder, “I like it.”
Tilting his head at you, “You like what?”
“I like when you talk to me,” you say with more force, brows furrowed.
He pretends to be unsure of your answer, “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” You try again, but as his expression remains unchanging, you add, “I like when you talk to me, I like how hot and fuzzy your words make me feel, I like just the sound of your voice, makes me want to squirm. Love it even! Is that what you wanted to hear?” You huff.
“Holy fuck, yes,” if he weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them again.
You let out a squeal at the way his mouth is already back on you, tongue pushing into your hole insistently. Fervent in his actions, clearly worked up by your words. If he were on the bed, he’d be shamelessly grinding his hips down into it, cock so fucking hard it’s aching. Pulsing so pitifully for you and if he weren’t so completely distracted by how you taste he’d throw caution to the wind and fuck into you right now.
“Gojo! Oh–” His name comes out all broken, ruined and shaky from how he laps at your cunt, drinking down all your slick.
Your elbows officially give out and you’re flopping back onto the mattress, fingers digging into the bed. Struggling to hold in all the little noises he’s pulling from you, hips trying to desperately rut into his pretty face with no luck, locked in place by his strong hold.
Gasping out at him, “M–more. Gojo – hah – more, please.”
Grunting against you, vibrations running up your spine, wanting desperately to kick your legs against the stimulation but unable to. He’s worked you up so much, so fucking desperate for release that his touch is making you crazy.
A finger presses at your hole, slipping inside easily, both his finger and tongue fucking into you. Another finger added, opening you up, scissoring them, tongue sneaking deeper inside your cunt.
He feels drunk, head heavy and brain foggy, tongue fucking you deeply. Delighting in the sounds of your sloppy pussy trying to suck him in deeper, he’s losing his mind. Tongue leaving you only for him to spit onto your cunt, thumb rubbing it into your clit, third finger added to the first two. Determined to have you ready for his cock.
“Need you to cum,” he sounds wrecked even to himself, “Before I do in my own pants – ffffuck –” Can’t help the way he curses at how you tighten around him at his words, “Must’ve been telling the truth about liking my voice, huh?” He teases, laughing breathlessly at how you react to him again.
Pressing out a simple, “S–so mean,” in response.
“You fucking like it,” eyes watching how your back arches off the mattress, “Love it even,” he reminds.
A series of moans leave you unabashedly at how he crooks his fingers just right, consistently hitting the one spot, thighs twitching at it. Stomach pulling tight and toes curling, head moving from side to side, so fucking close now.
“That’s it, sweetie,” he encourages, “Doing so good, just let go for me.”
You’re cumming suddenly, the abruptness of it shocking, like your body skipped the rest of the build up at Gojo’s words. If it didn’t feel good how he was fucking you through it, how his thumb kept rubbing at your clit, you’d feel beyond embarrassed at how you came just because he asked you to.
It’s not lost on him how quick you were to finish after he spoke, his ego big before and now fucking massive. Absolutely thrilled by how you continue to prove your responsiveness to him, if he were ever worried about you not being attracted to him, he can’t possibly remember why. Not when you’re squirming under him, tears threatening to slip from your waterline.
“Such a good direction follower,” he mocks, repeating his earlier sentiments.
His fingers keep stroking at you until your body goes limp, only jerking every now and again with your come down. Pulling them from you and parting them, looking at the way your cum connects his fingers together with white strings.
“Look at that,” his voice dripping with glee, “I was right… got such a creamy pussy,” he hums, shoving his fingers into his mouth.
He wipes his spit covered fingers on your thighs before standing, tugging off his pants and boxers before crawling up the mattress, leaning over you. Fingers skimming at your sides, pulling your shirt along with it, “Can I take this off, pretty?”
Eyes bleary when they meet his, giving a small nod, “Mhm.”
“You okay to keep going?” He checks, leaning in closer to you.
His concern makes you unreasonably happy, feeling genuinely cared for, “Yeah.”
“You sure–”
Cutting him off, “–Yes.”
Shock present on his face before smiling endearingly at you, completely smitten with you and has been for a long time now. It all feels a little surreal to him, being able to hold you, be intimate with you. Leaning in more, pressing soft kisses all over your face.
Showering you in affection as his hands continue to pull your shirt up. Only parting to pull it from you fully, thrown to some corner of your room, joining the rest of your clothes. Shuffling back so he can look at all of you, hands delicately tracing over you, like he’s memorising how you feel under his palms.
“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, hands smoothing over you. He drops onto you, face pressing between your tits, breathing in your scent.
Confused as your voice calls for him gently, “‘Toru?”
“Fuck,” he nips at your skin first and then moves to get back on his knees, “Alright, spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.”
Feeling placid from the intensity of your orgasm, you immediately listen to him and open your legs, moving them to the outside of his. Gojo feels like his heart grows in size at how quick you are to listen to him, so docile you don’t even talk back to him.
Your head cocks to the side at him, confused by his stare, “What?”
“Nothing,” he shakes his head at you, “You’re just really cute.”
He grabs your face, sandwiching your cheeks between his fingers, his lips leaving behind a big and sloppy kiss on yours before focusing back on your cunt. Grasping his cock and groaning at the pressure, squeezing himself to alleviate some of the need crawling desperately up his spine.
You can’t help but stare, he wasn’t full of it, he really is that big. Long and thick and looking so painfully hard, dripping precum so messily down the length of himself, dribbling down onto the bed sheets.
“It’s rude to stare,” he hisses, hand now stroking himself, clearly not even a little bit put off by your shameless staring. If anything, completely aroused by it.
Looking up into his eyes as you apologise, “‘M sorry.”
“Hah,” he huffs in amusement, “So polite all of a sudden, orgasm that good, pretty?”
“Yeah,” you nod, staring at him straight on, aiming to work him up more.
It works, “Fuck– alright,” his hips stutter into his hand and he stops fisting his cock, “‘Bout to give you an even better one,” guiding his dick to your core.
Swiping the head of himself through your folds, letting it collect the slick leaking from you. Teasing you like this for a bit, moving himself up and down before dipping into your hole, only to pull away again.
You whine at him over it, “Please.”
Smile large as he coos, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll take care of you.”
Keeping his word, he slowly presses the tip of his dick into you, hissing at the stretch, worried he didn’t give you enough prep. You bite your lip as you begin to take him in, fisting the sheets below, looking up at Gojo. His brows are upturned, and his jaw clenched, focusing so hard on being slow and careful. He pauses when you clench and flinch around him.
“I can take it,” gaze determined as you try to assure him, “You can keep going.”
“Oh, sweetie,” his hand grips at your inner thigh, squishing it under his hold, “I appreciate that,” he smiles, “I do… but you’re gonna want to pace yourself.”
You pout up at him, sulking, wanting to be full and not appreciating his probably – definitely – sound advice.
“Hah, don’t pout,” his thumb moves to your clit, “You’ll take it, know you will,” rubbing circles into it, “Cause I’m gonna make sure of it, but you gotta pace yourself.”
Under his touch, you relax again, and he pushes his hips forward, starting the slow process of opening you up on his cock. His control astounding himself right now, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you completely, feeling your pussy swallow him whole.
He’s not quite half-way yet and already pressing up against the most delicious spots inside you, with that and his consistent pressure on your clit, you’re suddenly so fucking close to cumming like this.
Reaching out to him, your hand lightly slaps at him, trying to warn, “I’m gonna – hah –”
Gojo realises when you clench down on him what you’re trying to say, the small noises you make getting louder, he almost blows his load the second he realises. Ripping himself from you suddenly, you cry out at the loss, cumming around nothing, gasping into your hand.
“Why? Why?” you’re almost incoherent as you ask him.
“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, trying to make up for the loss of his cock, “Would’ve cum if I hadn’t pulled out, wanna at least fuck you before I do.”
You glare at him, trying to convey how slighted you feel but he only seems to find it endearing, smiling at you over it. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”
Wasting no time, he fucks back into you, to where he was before he pulled out. Giving shallow thrusts as he keeps pressing forwards, breath stuttering at the small way he’s getting the friction he’s desperate for.
“Such a greedy cunt,” he murmurs, dick slipping deeper, “So quick to cum for me, sucking me in.”
“Gojo–” you whine at him, his words back to embarrassing you.
His voice cracks at how you refer to him, “–No, no, nono, what happened to ‘Toru?” Fucking deeper, so close to being balls deep.
“‘Toru, you’re–” cutting yourself off with a moan, he thrust the rest of the way in when you called to him, “–so deep.”
“Don’t I fucking know it,” he chuckles breathlessly, moving to press his body up against yours, craving the contact.
He’s pressed up against you completely, warm and strong, your legs loop around his waist and he slips in deeper. He groans at it, holding himself back, wanting you to adjust to all of him first. He nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites against the sensitive skin there, relishing in the way your pussy jumps around him over such a small act.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me or something,” he jokes, referencing how sensitive you are to him.
Without thinking, you admit, “I have – mmph – I’ve liked you mm–multiple times ah– at different points in – hah – our lives.”
His head snaps back as he twitches inside you, “Seriously?” When you nod, he grinds down into you, “Fuck– had me so stressed, liked you all this time and you’re telling me I could’ve had this pretty, little pussy so much sooner?”
You’re feeling a bit dazed, two orgasms deep and stretched so obscenely around him, cunt making wet noises just from the small way he’s grinding into you.
“When,” his words are hurried, when you look at him like he’s just said something in a different language, he asks again, “When have you liked me?”
“I don’t remember that, too many – hnn – different times,” you shake your head, you don’t even know if you could recount all the times you had feelings for him resurface even if you weren’t split open on his big dick.
He moans, starting to move his hips in shallow thrusts, “Enough that you – mmph – can’t remember specifics,” he groans, “Feels like a sick joke, been pining after you our – hah – whole lives.”
His mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply, sucking your tongue into his mouth, licking at you. The kiss so dizzying, you’re barely able to catch up to him before he’s talking again, “The most recent time– can you – hah – remember the most recent time you liked me?”
He’s desperate to know, wanting to know how small or big of a window he had missed. Failing to realise it doesn’t really matter all that much right now.
“Not – hah – not that long ago,” you’re almost panting now, wanting for him to move with more urgency but he’s still only thrusting into you shallowly.
“When, sweetie, tell me when, please,” his forehead pressed to yours, eyes imploring.
Struggling slightly as you press out, “B– before I started – hah – going on all those dates,” you’re trying really hard to think, “Beginning of the – hng – year?”
Smiling at you, big, happy, “Not that long ago, just gonna make you like me again.”
He’s a little annoyed that you went on so many dates right after having liked him, not completely lost on him that the two are probably connected and feeling frustrated that he hadn’t just told you about his feelings ages ago.
“Gonna charm the fuck outta you, take you to nice places, shower you in compliments, tell you how cute you are,” he’s rambling now, about your theoretical future dates, “Remind you every day how much I like you, how perfect you are, gonna make you like me again.”
“I’d like it if you moved, ‘Toru, please,” you beg, tears in the corners of your eyes from being teased.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he quips, kissing your cheek before complying.
Finally starting a pace that has you going crazy but in a different way, fast and deep, weighted thrusts that make you struggle to maintain focus. Pulling out almost completely before fucking back into you, hammering his hips into yours, lewd squelching filling the room at it.
Your whimpered moans have Gojo’s skin pricking, so turned on he feels insane, like you might kill him, “Got such a great pussy, fucking soaking wet, taking me so well, could die like this and not complain, fuck–”
Clawing at him now, at his forearms, his biceps, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach, desperately scrabbling for purchase. “Gojo–”
“–No, I don’t know who that is,” he ignores your cry of his name.
Trying again, “‘Toru, want– I want–”
You’re not even entirely sure what you want or are asking for, but Gojo seems to know immediately. His hips moving faster, pelvis slapping into your clit every time he meets yours, cock hitting against your cervix in a way that hurts so fucking good.
Eyes rolling back in your skull with the pleasure, fat tears running down your face at it. Sex has never felt like this, is it meant to feel like this? Have you been doing it wrong? Or maybe he’s just insanely good at it, or maybe you just like him more than you were aware of.
“Feels– feels good, I–”
“Again? Fucking perfect, so perfect for me,” he sounds so excited, “Want it, want you to cum on me, cum all over my cock, fucking coat me in it.” It’s almost like he’s begging you for it.
Luckily for him, you really do like his voice, love how he talks to you and at his borderline begging, you’re cumming all over him. Cunt clenching down on him, sobbing out pitiful moans of his name as you cum. It’s coating him, just like how he asked for, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.
“Fuuck, that’s it, such a good girl,” your cunt jumps around his cock, and he laughs, “Oh? You liked that, should’ve called you a good girl sooner.”
Too dazed to fight him on his teasing, corners of your vision blurry and ears ringing, twitching pathetically under him. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, fucking into you harsher, more shallow, getting close to finishing himself.
Orgasm on the tip of his tongue, the thing that sends him over the edge is how you look up at him. Eyes fucked out and cheeks tear stained, whining out a small, “‘Toru, want it, please.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” his words are choked out, almost whining himself, balls heavy with how badly he wants to cum.
Thrusts faltering as he fucks into you the last few times, suddenly slamming his pelvis to yours, releasing all his cum inside you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white. Hips grinding into you as he finishes.
Fucked out whimpers of your name leaving him as he presses his head into the side of your neck. Biting down onto you, shocking you slightly, the pain unexpected, he lathes over it with his tongue.
He slumps down onto you, his weight too much, your hands push at him, “Too heavy.”
He hums out at you noncommittally but gets up, carefully slipping himself from you, not shy in how he stares at your pussy. At the way his cum gushes from it, the urge to fuck it all back inside you strong. He withholds though, seeing you’re clearly beyond fucked out. Next time, he promises himself.
Gone from you but not for too long, only leaving long enough to clean himself up and bring stuff back to clean you up. Wiping softly at your legs, cleaning you of his spend, “You look cute dripping with my cum,” he singsongs.
“Lewd,” you accuse, too tired to think of something more to say.
“Yeah…” he gets into bed by you, “But I’m certain you like that.”
You snuggle into his side, letting him cuddle you, “Not sleeping with you again until at least the third date.”
“I bet…” he looks down at you, lips hovering over yours, “…You’ll sleep with me after each of them.”
You go to scoff at him and deny it, but he kisses you, deep and imploring. Effectively shutting you up and as you let him kiss you how he likes, you realise, he might be right.
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𝐀/𝐍: this got away from me, like it so often does, it was only meant to be a couple k of only smut but i am not normal so it turned into this! i hope you enjoyed <3 thank you for reading!
[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of unheavenlyvision
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5sospenguinqueen · 6 months ago
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Bedtime Stories | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader
Summary: For the past six years, you've been dreaming of a future with Daniel. Until one silly little interview shatters every illusion.
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. End of a relationship. Daniel bashing.
Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in the 2022 season.
Main Masterlist
next.
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User 2 no, it's not an announcement. her best friend is currently pregnant and she was gushing about looking forward to aunty duties
User 3 omg her and daniel would make the cutest babies though
→ User 4 i bet she can't wait until they have their own mini-me
User 5 imagine our rom-com queen going from writing the cutest but filthiest fiction imaginable to writing about why you should eat your carrots
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22•05•22
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User 6 i can't believe this man was talking about being in the height of his career when he's been nothing but a flop since leaving red bull
User 7 the way he's been stringing this poor woman along for 6 years, knowing how badly she wants children, to then decide in a random interview that he's never going to have kids because they would be a 'distraction'
User 8 fans spotted y/n running from the pits once she saw that daniel was safely done with racing
User 9 i fear we may be witnessing the downfall of something we once held sacred
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16•06•22
fallontonight just posted
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liked by YourUserName, kellypiquet and others
fallontonight did you know @ YourUser Name was once chased by a kangaroo? find out how in tonight's episode of The Tonight Show 📚🦘
4,477 comments
YourUserName thanks for having me! ✨
User 11 excuse me, ma’am, reassess what
User 12 daniel has been absent from her last 3 posts
→ User 1 not even in the likes or comments
→ User 2 and he didn't even congratulate her on the recent book launch
→ User 3 ya’ll are reaching. he's busy racing. she's busy doing book promo. they still follow each other
User 4 anyone notice she didn't look as happy as she usually does
→ User 5 yes! and i swear she got teary when talking about her life plans 🥺
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, mclaren and others
YourUserName my happy place 🌊🐚🦀 Aug '22
4,990 comments
User 6 does this mean a new book is coming soon
→ User 7 girl, we’ve just had one. let the woman rest
→ YourUserName sorry, my lovelies but i don’t think i'm in the right headspace to being right a romance novel at this time
→ User 6 confirmation??!?!
→ User 7 we’re children of divorce
→ User 8 honestly fuck those two because i couldn’t have cared less about vroom vroom boys until mother started dating one and now i'm crying in class ‘cause they’re over
landonorris get that bread, queen 🍞
→ YourUserName who let you out of daycare
→ User 9 not y/n and lando interacting like she didn’t break his teammates heart
→ User 10 more like his teammate broke y/n’s heart. let's not make daniel out to be the victim here
kellypiquet p said get writing those children’s books so she can brag about aunty y/n to her friends
→ YourUserName my sweet girl. i saw the cutest dress the other day for her so I’ll pop round soon x
→ User 11 i love their friendship
→ User 12 get this woman a child. She’s too sweet to be stuck in cool aunt mode forever
User 13 anyone notice she didn't do her annual birthday post for daniel?
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04•09•22
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User 14 no because the interviewer was so real for that. checo has a few children and he’s currently 2nd best. max is nowhere to be seen on the grid he's that far ahead and he makes sure p is his priority when she’s there so???
→ User 15 and the way he stormed out. i bet PR are sooo happy with him
User 16 nah because mclaren recently announced that they’re not extending his contract so he currently doesn't have his seat and doesn't have his y/n, all because he thought he was better than that
YourUserName posted a new story
danielricciardo posted a new story
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danielricciardo just posted
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danielricciardo yesterday was something. p17 wasn't the result we were expecting, and the media were a challenge but it's always a delight to be in Suzuka. Moving on to the Americas
5,509 comments
User 1 maybe if y/n was there, you wouldn't have done so badly
User 2 maybe if he had a baby waiting in the paddock he would’ve had more incentive to do better
mclaren we’ll get them next time 💪
User 3 letting mclaren and lando down
→ User 4 the real reason he and y/n broke up is because he has no wins. she should move onto lando or something
→ User 5 he’s way too young for her
→ User 4 they'd make a good looking couple tho
(comments have been disabled for this post)
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19•10•22
YourUserName just posted
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YourUserName thirty, flirty and thriving. please enjoy a small snippet of my 30th birthday, organised by my favourite girl. these are the nice moments before she plies me full of cocktails and i become the sloppiest person in monaco tagged: kellypiquet
kellypiquet any chance to celebrate you 🤍🤍
→ kellypiquet and an even better chance to drink the entire bar and force max to carry us home
→ maxverstappen1 i'm just glad i was able to pull you both out of the sea before you drowned
landonorris can't believe you tried (and failed) to stop us from gatecrashing
→ YourUserName it was an exclusive event, we don't let randos in
→ landonorris i know you're joking but it still hurts my feelings
maxverstappen1 happy birthday, sloppy. you don't look a day over 40
→ YourUserName i'm gonna let that slide but only because i love the bag that kelly told you to buy
User 7 happy birthday to the best author
User 8 happy birthday queen
carlossainz55 happy birthday, y/n 💐
liked by YourUserName
danielricciardo happy birthday x
User 5 kelly and y/n look like the funnest people to hang out with
→ User 6 literally need to know how to become part of their duo
lewishamilton happy birthday, y/n. have a lovely night 💕
liked by YourUserName
mclaren happy birthday to papaya's favourite author (we're still waiting for a racing rom-com that is quite clearly about your favourite f1 team and their super sexy admin) 🥳🥳
liked by YourUserName
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Request are open!
Baby Fever Angst Series
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only-luce-the-goose · 5 months ago
Text
Taller
A/N: lowkey in love with Mr Bearman rn
Ollie Bearman x reader
Synopsis: non-sexual size kink with Ollie Bearman
Warnings: size kink, fluff
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Ollie Bearman stands at just over 6ft, and while he’s not the tallest person in the world, he is definitely one of the tallest you’ve met. When you first met him, you were doing work experience as a journalist for Sky Sports. You had been tasked with interviewing some of the reserve drivers, Ollie being your top priority.
Obviously, you knew who he was before you met him, what you didn’t know is that he knew who you were too. He noticed you on his last visit to the paddock, bright-eyed as you followed the Sky Sport presenters around. After a lot of practicing, they let you do your own one-on-one interviews, starting you off with reserve drivers so it wasn't overly important in case you bombed.
You waited in the media pen, Ollie was eventually brought over by his media manager. You got through the interview without embarrassing yourself too much, it wasn’t until that afternoon that you felt your shoulder being tapped. You turned around to find yourself face to (muscly) chest with Ollie. You looked up at him, craning your neck in the process. "Y/n, right?" he asked. "I-uhm-yeah, that's me."
You think about that day all the time, the day you met your current boyfriend. You had known each other over 3 years now, dating for just over a year and a half. After knowing him for 3 years, what you could never get over was his size. He’s tall and broad and the size of him always makes you giggly and nervous.
When you can’t reach something on the top shelf, he puts his hand on your waist and kisses your cheek, reaching over you and pulling the object down. You look up at him to thank you and he’s just so… there. Towering over you, making you feel small and you kinda love it.
When you’re lying on the couch and he comes over for cuddles. He flops himself on top of you, his head resting the crevice of your neck, his weight crushing you in the best way. When he usually lies on the couch, his feet just hit the end but when he lies on you, his feet stick out the end of the couch. You always ask if he wants you to move up but he always shakes his head and nuzzles into your neck. You’re astounded at how he discards his comfort to be with you.
You guys went to a concert a couple months ago and you were stuck behind a group of stupidly tall people. You kept trying to look over shoulders, wiggling around in the cramped space. Ollie leaned and asked “you ok baby?” You look up at him “I can’t see anything” you grumble. He giggled, “do you wanna get up on my shoulders, love?” You look at him shocked. “How would I even get up there?” He leaned in and whispered “I’ll show you”. He knelt down on the ground, taking your hand and pulling you over to sit on his shoulders. He held both your hands to keep you steady when he stood up, giving you the perfect view of the concert.
The way he would stand behind you in a mirror, lovingly looming over you while his shoulders reached wider than yours. His arms winding around yours waist, pulling you into his muscly chest. Butterflies erupted in your stomach, like they do every time Ollie shows off how big he is, and you love it.
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reverie-starlight · 10 months ago
Text
megumi loves…
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a collection of things megumi loves about you.
gn!reader, no physical descriptions. so sweet it’ll make your teeth rot tbh. he won the poll so here’s the fic as promised!! literally wrote this on the bus and train rides this morning after having this planned for weeks. I literally love him sm he is everything to me <3
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megumi loves when you play with his hair. the feel of your nails running along his scalp, playing with the nape of his neck- it’s calming. you do it most often when you’re both in his bed, cuddling after a mission or a long day of training. he’ll flop down on top of you, plant his head on your chest and sigh. he waits for you to do something, drawing the sweetest sound he’s ever heard from your lips (a laugh) as he glares up at you when you don’t move your hands. you’ll mumble out a soft “aw I’m sorry, baby,” before giving him exactly what he wants. he’ll press tender kisses to any patch of skin he can reach in thanks. you’d never make him ask twice because you know he truly appreciates this time spent with you and you’d never want him to shy away from you. you’re each other’s safe space after all, who would you be to deny him?
sometimes you’ll do it in public, too, but far less often. these are the times that you just can’t hold back- he’s so cute, why would you? he grumbles about it a bit, especially if you’re around people you know (he’s shy, after all), but can he really complain when you look at him so softly as you play with his dark locks? he’ll endure the teasing and reassure you that he’s fine with it if you start to pull away.
megumi loves running his fingers along your facial features. over the bridge of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, tracing your lips… he just loves your facial structure. it sounds like an odd compliment to give someone, especially if it’s the first compliment you give someone (and in his case, it was the first compliment he managed to stutter out after you offhandedly called him pretty when you were in the transition stage from friends to lovers), but he’s thankful that you seem to find it sweet.
he loves your face when you’re awake, so full of life and excitement that he can’t help but match when you’re both alone in the comfort of each other. the pretty smiles you’ll give him make his heart pump just a bit faster, the lovesick in your eyes after he kisses you… he wouldn’t trade it for the world. he’d do anything to keep you happy.
he loves your face when you’re asleep, too. especially after you’ve had a rough day. you look so serene and peaceful. even if you do drool or think you’re less than flattering, he always thinks you’re the most stunning thing ever. he loves when you scrunch your nose in your sleep, and he always places a hand on your cheek to smooth it out. he adores the look on your face as you slowly wake up and blink at him before cuddling into him further and sighing as you fall back asleep.
megumi loves when you get a bit clingy. everyone is a bit surprised when they see how all over each other the two of you can be (at least, as much as he is willing to show in public- which isn’t much, but for everyone else it’s huge) he loves it when you can’t help but wrap your arms around him because you missed him (you probably saw him less than an hour ago).
he adores the way you refuse to let him get out of bed on weekends, insisting that you need your fix of “never-ending affection” from him before can start his day. and he loves giving it to you. he’ll start with peppering quick kisses all over your face, smiling against your skin when you giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, not at all tempted to squirm away, but rather to pull him in for more.
he’ll be convinced to lay with you for a bit longer, of course, and do it without complaining. because at the end of the day, he loves to feel needed by you. he likes having you close to him more than he hates getting teased by his friends and gojo for being all soft.
believe it or not, he enjoys it when you initiate play fights with him. neither of you go all out- you do that enough on missions- so it’s just the two of you rolling around in bed, laughing and pinning the other down. he’ll pick you up and throw you back down, he’ll summon his demon dog to jump all over you so he can have the upper hand, just to keep you smiling. he knows physical affection is important to you, so why would he deny you of that? he never wants to make you feel like you’re not getting what you need from him.
megumi loves when you tease him. this surprises even him to this day, because he doesn’t like the feeling of getting worked up at all. but his working theory is that he enjoys the intimacy of it. you don’t tease him about every little thing, you know he doesn’t like that, but you do tease him about things hyper-specific to your relationship. for example: that one time he messed up the pronunciation of that word in an argument? you never let him live it down, but you’ll also never disclose the inside joke to anyone else. you might be a nuisance on purpose, but you’re also his number one defender when it comes to anyone else teasing him.
you also like to fluster him. poking him all over when you want attention, blowing air into his face when he leans in to kiss you… it’s all so fun for you. you’ll get close enough to his face to make him blush, you’ll tease that spot on the back of his neck that he’s never told anyone but you about, and he hates how easily you get to him, but he’ll tolerate it because he knows you’re just as easy to fluster as he is.
he loves to tease you back. as soon as you’re back in your room after a full day of not letting up on him, he’s got his arms wrapped around you, and he’s walking you backwards until your laying on the bed, staring up at him wearily… and then you’re screaming because his skilled hands are all over your sides, your ribs and your hips. and once you’re spent, he’ll lean in close to your ear and whisper his own teasing remarks (normally compliments he knows you’d have trouble accepting otherwise) to get you whining and mumbling out laughter-filled apologies he won’t be accepting any time soon.
yeah, megumi just loves you.
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hope you enjoyed!!! it’s a different format from my other fics so lmk if you’d want this with any other characters!!
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solxamber · 1 month ago
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Hiiii so I really liked your unhinged reader x Leona fic and I just saw your post about mal and vil
If you have the time, could you do the same thing for mal and/or vil?
Vil and Malleus with an Unhinged reader
thanks for the request <3 it's always fun writing for mal and vil!
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Vil Schoenheit
Vil Schoenheit prided himself on his poise. He prided himself on his grace, his refinement, his ability to maintain control in any situation.
And then there was you.
A walking, talking whirlwind of chaos with absolutely no regard for personal safety or the consequences of your actions. You had this thing—this habit—of showing up wherever Vil was, just appearing out of thin air like a feral cat who found a way into the palace.
“Vil!” you called, striding confidently into the Pomefiore lounge one afternoon, without a care for the looks you were getting from the perfectly groomed students. “Guess what I did today?”
Vil didn’t look up from his tea. “Do I even want to know?”
You, with the biggest grin on your face, flopped into the chair across from him like it was a casual meeting and not the sanctum of beauty and refinement. “Okay, so. Hear me out.”
“No.”
Ignoring him completely, you launched into your story. “So I was in the botanical gardens, right? And I saw this big, fancy plant, and I thought, ‘What if I just… take it?’ You know, for science or something.”
Vil lowered his tea slowly, eyeing you like you’d just declared you were going to break into a highly secured vault for fun. “You what?”
“I took it! It’s in my bag!” You looked so proud of yourself as you patted your bag. “I was thinking it’d look great in your room.”
Vil blinked at you, mouth slightly open, as his brain struggled to process the sheer absurdity of the situation. “You stole a plant? From the botanical gardens? For me?”
“Yup! Because you like pretty things, right?”
A strangled sound came from Rook, who had been quietly observing the conversation. Vil shot him a glare to silence him before returning his attention to you. “Let me get this straight,” Vil said slowly, carefully, as though speaking too quickly would cause his head to explode. “You, with absolutely no regard for rules or consequences, took a rare and likely highly poisonous plant, stuffed it into your bag, and brought it to me?”
You blinked innocently. “It’s poisonous? Huh. Well, that explains the rash.”
Vil’s hands went to his temples as he let out a long, pained sigh. “You have a death wish, don’t you?”
“Pfft, nah. I just get bored.”
There it was. The sentence that encapsulated everything about you—no self-preservation, questionable morals, and an insatiable hunger for something, anything, to entertain you.
Vil leaned back in his chair, staring at you as though trying to comprehend how someone like you even existed. “Do you realize how dangerous that is? How reckless? How utterly insane?”
You shrugged. “Danger is subjective, really. And anyway, you’ve faced worse in your overblot, right? At least I didn’t curse anyone.”
“That’s not the point!” Vil snapped, standing abruptly and fixing you with a glare so intense it could wilt your newly acquired plant. “You’re acting like an absolute menace!”
“And yet,” you said, leaning forward with a grin that could only be described as unhinged, “you still keep letting me hang around.”
Vil opened his mouth to retort but stopped. He couldn’t deny it. No matter how infuriating you were, no matter how many ridiculous situations you threw yourself into, he never really tried to distance himself. Sure, he scolded you, lectured you about proper behavior and responsibility, but at the end of the day, you were still there, waltzing into his life like you owned it.
“And,” you added, leaning even closer, “you can’t deny that you like it. Admit it. You’d be bored without me.”
Vil scoffed, turning his nose up. “As if. I have plenty of things to occupy my time.”
You tilted your head, that same manic gleam in your eye. “Oh really? Then why haven’t you kicked me out yet?”
Vil’s eye twitched. You had him there. He could list a dozen reasons why you were the worst—your lack of decorum, your disregard for rules, your baffling ability to be where you weren’t supposed to be—but at the same time, you were… fun. Infuriating, yes, but you always kept him on his toes. You were different from the people who usually fawned over him, who tried to impress him. You didn’t care about any of that. You just did whatever you wanted.
He took a deep breath and turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. “Fine. I’ll admit it. You’re… amusing, in a way.”
You grinned wider. “See? I knew you liked me.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Vil said quickly, trying to maintain his composure. “You’re a menace to society and a walking disaster waiting to happen. But…” His voice dropped to a soft murmur, “you’re not entirely unbearable.”
“Wow, that’s practically a love confession coming from you,” you teased, still beaming like you’d won some sort of grand prize.
Vil turned away to hide the faint blush creeping up his neck. “Don’t get any ideas. I simply tolerate your existence.”
“Tolerate it all you want,” you said with a wink. “But I’m still going to hang around and cause chaos.”
Vil rubbed his temples again, as though trying to stave off the headache you were undoubtedly giving him. “I hate you sometimes.”
“Liar,” you sing-songed.
He glared at you, but there was no real heat behind it. “One day, you’re going to get yourself killed. Or worse—ruin my skincare routine.”
You laughed, pulling the now-wilting plant out of your bag. “Wanna help me plant this in the dorm garden?”
Vil stared at you in disbelief. “No. Absolutely not.”
“You say that now, but I’ll grow on you. Just like this plant.”
“I am going to bury you and that plant together.”
You winked. “As long as I’m with you, Vil.”
Vil groaned, but he didn’t kick you out, didn’t storm off in disgust. And somehow, that was all the confirmation you needed.
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Malleus Draconia
Malleus Draconia, prince of Briar Valley, feared and revered by many, could handle just about anything. He’d faced fierce enemies, commanded respect with just a glance, and maintained an air of elegance befitting his royal status.
And then there was you.
You, with your complete and utter lack of self-preservation. You, who seemed to treat life like an ongoing game of “how can I make the Grim Reaper quit?” You, who treated Malleus Draconia like just another guy in your chaotic orbit.
“Tsunotarou!” You barreled toward him one evening, skidding to a halt at the last second, as if barely remembering that you shouldn’t throw yourself headfirst into the chest of a centuries-old fae prince. “You’ll never guess what I did!”
Malleus blinked, tilting his head in curiosity. “What have you done this time, Child of Man?”
You grinned like a cat who’d eaten the canary. “I may or may not have… accidentally started a small fire in the potionology lab.”
Malleus’s eyes widened slightly, though he remained composed. “A fire? Are you unharmed?”
“Oh yeah, I’m totally fine! But Crewel’s coat definitely wasn’t. That thing went up in flames like it was soaked in gasoline.” You waved your hand dismissively, like setting your teacher’s coat on fire was a normal Monday activity.
Malleus stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he let out a soft chuckle. “You are truly fearless, aren’t you?”
“I like to think of it as ‘enthusiastically living life without regrets,’” you replied, crossing your arms proudly. “Besides, if something goes wrong, I have you to bail me out.”
“Do you intend to make a habit of relying on me to prevent your untimely demise?” Malleus asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
You shrugged. “I mean, if the shoe fits. You’re like my own personal dragon-shaped safety net.”
Malleus blinked. “I am not a net, Child of Man.”
“No, no,” you waved off his literal interpretation. “You’re like the ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card. Like, if I almost die doing something dumb, you’ll just bring me back, right?”
Malleus paused, tilting his head again, as if genuinely pondering your question. “I could… but do you not fear death?”
“Nah. It’s not that big of a deal.” You grinned, clearly thrilled by the look of confusion that passed over his normally composed face. “Besides, it’s boring to worry about things like that.”
Malleus stared at you, his lips parting slightly as if trying to comprehend how you could be so nonchalant about life-threatening situations. He was used to dealing with those who were cautious around him, who feared his power or treated him with excessive reverence. And then there was you—just casually asking him if he could resurrect you after you threw yourself into danger like it was a sport.
“What am I to do with you?” Malleus mused, more to himself than to you.
You perked up. “Take me on a super dangerous adventure?”
Malleus blinked. “I was thinking more along the lines of keeping you out of danger.”
“But that’s boring!” You leaned forward, poking his chest with a mischievous grin. “C’mon, big guy, don’t you ever just wanna go wild? Let loose? Maybe blow up a tower or two for funsies?”
Malleus raised an eyebrow. “Blow up a tower?”
“Yeah! Like a good ol’ fashioned castle demolition!” You threw your hands up in the air like you were some kind of crazed architect.
Malleus let out a soft sigh, but there was an undeniable hint of fondness in his gaze. “I believe we have different definitions of fun.”
“And that’s exactly why you need me,” you said with a grin. “You need some excitement in your life! Can’t just sit around being all broody and regal all the time.”
Malleus looked at you, something unreadable flickering in his emerald eyes. “You are… quite unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”
You beamed. “That’s because I’m awesome.”
“That is certainly one word for it,” Malleus said, suppressing a smile.
“And you like that about me,” you teased, leaning even closer with zero respect for the concept of personal space. “Admit it. You enjoy the chaos I bring into your life.”
Malleus chuckled softly, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “It is… refreshing.”
“Ha! I knew it!” You jabbed a finger at him. “You love my reckless, devil-may-care attitude!”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it love…” Malleus started, but you were already on a roll.
“Face it, Tsunotarou! You’re absolutely smitten with my chaotic energy.”
Malleus watched you with that same fond amusement, his eyes glimmering in the moonlight. “You are certainly… something,” he said, his voice soft, yet filled with warmth.
“And don’t you forget it!” You twirled dramatically, like you’d just won some invisible competition. “Now, let’s go scare some people in the hallways. We’ll use your glowing eyes and spooky fae vibes to freak everyone out.”
Malleus sighed again but stood up, towering over you with a resigned yet playful expression. “If I agree to this madness, will you at least promise not to throw yourself into any more dangerous situations today?”
You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. No promises, but I’ll try.”
“That is the best I can hope for, it seems,” Malleus murmured, shaking his head with an affectionate smile.
As you grabbed his hand and began to drag him toward your latest scheme, Malleus couldn’t help but think that, for all your recklessness and lack of self-preservation, you brought a kind of chaos into his life that he hadn’t realized he was missing.
And strangely enough, he didn’t mind it.
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Masterlist
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nanaslutt · 1 year ago
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hello, i hope youre good !
may you please write one day about y/n sending hot pics for satoru ?
sorry if I spoke something wrong, english isnt my first language :] take ur time and have a good day ! 💞
Your english is perfect ml, please enjoy! <3
Contains: fem reader, established relationship, sending nudes, phone sex, mutual masturbation, he talks you through it, praise, DIRTY TALK
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
"I don't know Shoko.. I've never sent him anything like this before." You groaned into your pillow, your voice through the phone coming out muffled on her end. "But you want to right?" She pushed, making you raise your head up from the sheets and sigh, "I doooo." You huffed out begrudgingly. "Great! Problem solved, the pictures you sent me were hot, but not too revealing, so you can send him something like that for starters." She replied, making you blush at her compliment.
You had recently bought a new set when you went out with Shoko for a girl's day. You had practically ripped the bag in half when you got home so you could get it on your body faster. Once you had on the garment you were posing left and right, making sure to take some sensual pictures for yourself later. Your boyfriend; Satoru; had texted you in the midst of your shenanigans, telling you how he was on his lunch break, making an idea pop into your head.
You wanted to show your man how good you looked, but thinking about sending Satoru; or anyone for that matter; nudes? That made you a little nervous. You quickly dialed up Shoko, she always knew just what to say, she was your hypewoman after all. After a quick convo she had successsfully pushed you in the direction you truly wanted; that being sending your boyfriend risque pictures while he was at work.
"Let me know how it goes, see ya." Shoko's voice echoed through the phone speaker before the tone indicating the call had ended rang through the room. You took a deep breath and rotated yourself on your bed, flopping your back against the pillows, still dressed in the pretty set, while you scrolled through the pictures you had taken-- trying to pick your favorites.
You settled on three for starters, it was an easy pick, only taking you a couple minutes to assess the best ones for Satoru. The first one you were on your side, body laid across the floor sensually as your arm rested on your hip, giving the viewer's eyes full access to your body. In the second picture, you were on your knees, you had placed your phone on the ground and set it to a timer so you could lean forward, making your thighs crease at the top, as you used to squeeze your breasts together.
The last photo was your favorite. You were sat on the floor, your legs folded and spread, the sheerness of the panties leaving little to the imagination in the lighting, while your hand once again rested against your tit, pushing and groping it in your hand while the other took a picture in the mirror, your phone covering most of you face save for a sliver of a smile that peeked out the side of the phone.
Your heart was racing, you knew Satoru would like the pictures, and you're pretty sure he would find you attractive in a trash bag, but you digressed, opening the chat to your lover.
Satoru <3: finally on lunch, yaga brought donuts today!
The picture attached was of the white-haired man laying back in his chair as he held his shirt up over his stomach to reveal his somehow still toned, but bloated tummy, an empty donut box in the background. Something told you that the donuts might've been for the kids, but Yaga should've known that bringing sweets around Satoru without anything for him was a recipe for disaster.
You laughed to yourself as you shook your head before responding. The two of you bantered back and forth about the subject for a while before he asked you what you were up to right now, which gave you the perfect excuse to send him the pictures. After sending an ominous 'you wanna see?' text, you clicked on the three gold medal winning pictures and sent them his way. You bit your lip between your teeth as you watched the blue bar at the top of the screen slowly slide across it, indicating it was sending.
Seconds before the pictures had been successfully sent, Satoru had started typing back his own response, which made you nervous because it meant he was in the chat and would see the photos sooner. Which is what you wanted, yes, but it didn't make it any less nerve-wracking.
When the little ‘delivered’ popped up underneath your pictures, quickly followed by a ‘read’ you held your breath. The three dots that indicated his typing stopped, then started, then stopped again. Uncertainty filled your body, did he not like the pictures? Was he mad you sent them while he was working?
You were snapped out of your stupor when your phone started vibrating in your hand, Satoru’s contact picture and name lighting up the phone as it rang. You quickly answered his call, readying yourself to apologize for being out of line, but before you could do so you heard a loud drawn out groan resonate from the speaker.
“You’re such a tease.” He pouted on the other side of the line, “I only have 5 minutes left on my lunch break and you just made me so fucking hard.” He groaned, making you sigh in relief as you registered his words. “I’m sorry Satoru, I felt pretty and wanted you to see,” you faux apologized, biting your lip as you looked around your room.
“And you do look so fucking pretty baby, that’s the problem.” He sighed, spinning himself around in his chair while he stared down at his erect cock that was tenting up his pants. He looked over at the large clock on his wall, which he mainly used for decoration, before sighing into the receiver. "Thank you, Satoru," You blushed. "I was going to send them when you texted me that you were on your lunch but our conversation wasn't really.. in that mood" You explained.
You heard his signature laugh from the other end, "Baby, I don't care if I just told you the school got attacked by a hoard of curses, if you have sexy pictures to show me you better not keep them from me." You rolled your eyes, you both knew he was exaggerating and you would never do such a thing, but his words made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside still. "Sorry Satoru, is it too late to tell you that I took more than the ones I sent you?" You giggled, biting your lip when you heard him groan in response.
"Fuckk, please send me those pictures baby~" He wined, reaching over to his wireless headphones as he popped onto into his ear so he could still hear you while he oggled your pictures, he wouldn't want anyone to hear this conversation after all. You were one step ahead of them, the delivered notification once again popped up on your screen as you sent him three more pictures, all more risque than the last.
In one your back was arched in the mirror, showing off the pretty decoration on the back of the panties. Another, you completely abandoned the bra of the set, leaving the panties on as you covered your nipples with your fingers, and one of the same vein of you holding the phone over your body while you lay on the bed, your arm squishing your tits in the bra together while it cupped over your panty-less cunt.
"Oh you're trying to kill me, look at that fucking arch." He groaned, covering his mouth with his hand as he took in the photos. "Baby you look so cute in that last one." He complimented, making you blush and giggle as you whispered out your thanks to him. He looked over to the clock once more, it was a couple minutes over the time he was supposed to be back and teaching the kids, but he figured if he was already late, what was a couple more minutes?
"Answer that," Satoru instructed, referring to the FaceTime request that popped up on your phone from him. You accepted it quickly, pulling your phone from your ear as you slid the green button over, smiling fondly when his flushed face popped into view. "You're so handsome, Satoru." You complimented, feeling your stomach start to tie itself in knots with how debauched he looked from just looking at the pictures you sent him, he was so clearly aroused.
"Oh shit, you still have it on?" He said, biting his lip as he set his phone down on the desk in front of him, giving you a full veiw of his body as he leaned back once more and startaed rubbing himself over his slacks. "Satoru what are you doing?" You asked with a laugh, surely it had been longer than five minutes now, he needed to get back to teaching. "Shh baby, they wont miss me for a couple more minutes ill make it quick." You imediately picked up on what he was insinuating.
"Look at how hard I am baby, I can't go out there looking like this." He wined, tipping his head to the side against his chair as he looked at you with a pout. "You're gonna take care of me too right?" You asked, giggling before you set up your own phone on your bed, using some pillows to stabilize it. The white-haired man scoffed before he started unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out, "Can't believe you just asked me that." He said, semi-faux offense plastering itself on his face, "Was there ever a time I've left you unsatisfied?" He asked, slapping his cock against his free hand when it was finally unobstructed from his too-tight pants.
You sat back on your heels and started massaging your tits in your hands, making the warmth in your stomach grow as you pretended to think, looking around the room as you hummed. "Oh, so you already forgot how I made you cum in under a minute before work yesterday morning?" He said confidently, beginning to stroke himself as he watched you push your covered tits together. "I barely have to touch you and you're a squirming mess, dont play with me." He huffed out a laugh, bringing his other hand down to massage his balls in his hand, really giving you a show.
"But you're not here right now, Satoru." You retorted, sliding one of your hands down your body slowly, making your way down to your cunt. "Maybe not, but just my words are making you all wet, huh?" He asked knowingly, pulling his lip between his teeth as he watched you tease yourself. You nodded, making him coo at you as you finally made it to your cunt as you started to rub small circles over your clit.
"Get comfortable for me baby, keep the set on." He instructed. You lay back against the pillows and spread your legs. The crotch of the panties had a little patch over your entrance that he couldn't see through, but every other part of the fabric was almost completely sheer, except for the fact that your wetness was seeping through them little by little and making them see through the more you teased yourself.
"Play with your nipples while you rub yourself baby." He groaned, trying to keep his voice relatively quiet as he was in his office. "This is so dirty." You giggled, following his instructions. You rubbed small circles against your panty-clad clit while you pinched your nipple through the fabric of the unpadded bra.
The two of you have tried many things sexually throughout the entirety of your relationship together, but somehow, have never thought of getting off together over the phone. When Satoru was gone on missions the two of you would send dirty messages back and forth, saying how bad you missed each other, but nothing to this extent. This was opening a whole new world for the both of you, and it would be something you would definitely do again.
"Good fucking girl. Goddd, what I wouldn't give to bend you over right now and fuck you into the bed." He groaned, his strokes picking up pace while he watched your body jerk and twitch under your ministrations. "Yeah?" You encouraged, rubbing yourself faster and harder as your cunt clenched around nothing, aching for him to fill you up.
"Yes baby, want you to fuck yourself back on my cock too, wanna watch your little pussy swallow up my dick." He continued, rambling as the wet strokes on his dick emanated louder through the room. "Pull your panties aside and touch yourself, gotta see your pretty pussy." He grit through his teeth, as he tried to keep his eyes from rolling back in his had. You did as told, pulling the fabric aside you exposed your twitching clit and pulsing hole, a string of your arousal that connected to the panties failed to excape his eyes, making Satoru's cock twitch.
"Touch yourself, baby, pretend it's me touching you." He groaned, letting his jaw drop as he watched your fingers come in contact with the little bud, beginning to rub quick circles against it, just like he always does. "L-like this Toru?" You asked, needing him to praise you right now. "Just like that baby, doing so good for me, so fucking perfect." He groaned, shaking his head back and forth as he watched your smaller fingers work yourself through your orgasm.
"Shit, wanna feel your cunt squeezing me so bad, can see her twitching." He whined, making you blush in embarrassment at how exposed you were. Satoru's leg started bouncing against the floor at how fast he was working himself up. "P-please, fuck me Toru', fuck me-" You whimpered, getting lost in the sensation as you tipped your head back against the pillows and dropped your other hand down to the opening of your pussy, slowly sliding them inside your walls and starting up a blissful pace as you curled them up towards your sweet spot.
"Yes fuck your pussy for me, baby, yesyesyes." The man rambled, his back beginning to arch off the chair with how close he was. The squelching emitting from your cunt was going to send him over the edge, he so desperately wanted to pull your inadequate fingers out and lick them clean before he replaced them with his own. "Faster baby, cmon, get yourself there." He begged, slowing his strokes against his cock to let you get closer to your orgasm so the two of you could cum together. "I-I'm fuck S-satoru- Right there- right there-" You moaned, losing yourself in your fantasy as you fucked your fingers harder and deeper into yourself.
"Yeah? Right there? You like when I fuck you right there?" He slurred, clenching his teeth together as he picked up his pace once more, beginning to fuck his hips up into his hand. "Yes Toru- G-gonna- gonna cum-" You wined, your voice raising in pitch as you dropped your chin down to the screen in front of you, watching the show he was so kindly putting on for you as the sight pushed you over the edge.
"M-me too- Gonna fill you up cutie- fucking- take it-" Satoru groaned, hot ropes of cum spurting from his dick as his torso curled in slightly, his abs clenching and body jerking with the force of his orgasm. He watched intently as you snapped your legs shut around your hand, he saw the muscles in your forearm moving, praising you for working yourself through it as wave after wave of your high crashed over you. "Good girl, good fucking girl." He praised, slowing his strokes on his cock as he worked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm.
"S-shit" Your body relaxed against the sheets once more, your legs staying shut as you relished in the friction your closed thighs brought to your cunt as you came down from your orgasm. You heard your boyfriend giggle, dropping your knees down to the side you looked down at the screen and noticed that he was wiping his cock clean and tucking himself back into his pants. "Whew, 3 minutes, and I didn't even touch you." He praised himself, making you laugh and roll your eyes at him as you sat up to grab your phone in your hand and lay it against the side of the bed with you as you laid down.
"You could say the same for me too you know." you retorted, making him smirk. "Yeah, you could, made me make a huge fucking mess." He giggled, staring at you lovingly through the phone. "You look beautiful." He said, making hearts practically form in your eyes as you thanked him. "Clean yourself up before you fall asleep, I'll be home soon, okay?" He said, raising his eyebrows at you as he waited for your answer before he ended the call.
"Okay Satoru, hurry please." You added the two of you said your goodbyes, he blew you an animated-looking kiss before he hung up the call. You sighed, dropping your hand against the sheets as you smiled to yourself, you couldn't wait for him to get home.
After giving yourself a couple more seconds to lie there, you sat up, heading his words as you started to get yourself cleaned up. You paused in your ministrations when your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up as Satoru's name popped up on the screen. You decided to check his message before you left for the bathroom, your jaw dropped and your body tensed when you opened his message.
There was a picture of Satoru's impressive-sized softening cock that rested on his hand, his length and hand alike covered in his cum with a message attached. When did he even have time to take that picture?
Satoru <3: Keep the set on till I get home please~
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onismdaydream · 5 months ago
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♡ ⋆。˚ keep your hands to yourself !
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synopsis..!: your roommate found the bathroom door open! can you blame him for wanting to join? (3.1k)
warnings..!: MDNI. fem/afab reader. aged up character. pwp. perv!yuji. voyeurism. dubcon(at first). fingering. unprotected p in v. not proofread.
notes..!: first proper writing for perv yuji based off an ask i got that was too delicious to pass up. i had a lot of fun writing this even if i was a bit nervous bc i wanted to really lean into the pervy-ness. comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
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yuji’s relaxing on the beaten up couch in the shared living area, scrolling past uninteresting videos on his phone while the tv screen plays an equally uninteresting show when the familiar jingling of various keychains clanking against each other filters to his ears. he's gotten better at recognizing the sounds you make — an unintentional side effect of sneaking around you.
well, sneaking sounds bad. it makes yuji feel dirty, like he's taking advantage of you without you knowing. he'd much rather say that he observes you. after all, there's no harm in looking, right? and there's certainly no harm done if yuji stays out of your sight during those moments.
the knob turns and the door opens and you let out a loud sigh as you kick your shoes off, dropping your bag on the closest surface available.
“long day?” yuji offers, straightening up a bit when you make your way over to him. his lips twitch upwards when you flop down next to him, your body sinking into the cushion. your hands run down your face, almost as if you're trying to wipe the exhaustion away. cute.
“you don't even know.” your eyes close and yuji takes the opportunity to let his gaze linger on your body, your relaxed posture practically begging him to look.
with your head thrown back and resting against the couch, your neck is exposed. smooth skin that he wishes he could nip and suck at, positive that you'd look even better covered in marks left by him. his fingers itch to reach out and touch you, to run them along your collarbone and down the valley of your perfect breasts. he'd love to feel the weight of them in his hands, to squeeze them and pinch your pretty nipples until you cry out for him. it's like you're playing with yuji, really, with how often you show off your chest. those cute swim tops you wear that barely stay in place or the shirts with the deep neckline, they drive him crazy. he's had to excuse himself to jerk off more times than he'd like to admit, images of your tits in his face as you bounce on his cock flooding his mind.
“we could, uh,” yuji starts, swallows when his mouth gets too dry, his tongue heavy where it sits. “we could watch a movie? get your mind off of it.”
it's a genuine offer; yuji does enjoy spending time with you and considers you a very good friend. it's just an added bonus that you always end up pressed up against him during those hang outs. your plush thigh looks so soft and warm and he wants to dig his fingers into the doughy skin, maybe even leave some bruises.
a soft exhale leaves your nose, and you shake your head before you open your eyes. “thanks but not tonight.”
yuji’s heart drops a bit, a disappointment he knows he never earns the right to weighing it down.
“i'm pretty tired so i’m gonna shower and then go to bed. rain check?” you stand, stretching your arms above your head and your shirt rides up with the movement. a small sliver of your stomach is exposed, drawing yuji’s eyes instantly. a moth to a flame.
“yeah, sure.” his words trail off, yuji only half paying attention to what you said. he can't help it — his mind goes blank when he gets a peek of your body. he watches you walk away, watches the sway of your hips in a trance until you step out of his line of vision.
there should be a feeling of guilt in the pit of yuji’s stomach, but there's not. there never is and he doubts there ever will be. instead, there's unbridled lust. he craves to touch your body, to feel your warm skin underneath his fingertips and to pull the sweetest sounds from your lips.
yuji’s hand falls to his growing bulge, the front of his shorts chubbing underneath the heat of his palm. a shaky breath slips past his lips as he squeezes his cock, wishing so desperately that it was your touch instead. he wouldn't even care how you touched him. as long as it was your fingers wrapped around his length, he would feel euphoric. hell, he'd even fuck into your fist if that's all you would give him.
he groans softly and shuts his eyes, imagining you leaning forward in that low cut shirt he loves so much, the one that shows off your gorgeous tits, and your hand just barely closing around his cock, a teasing touch that he doesn't deserve. shit, he wants it so bad — wants you so bad.
the sound of the shower sputtering to life snaps him out of his horny stupor, face flushing as he realizes that if you came back for any reason, you would've seen him. the tent of his shorts is obvious and there's no doubt that you wouldn't have known what he was doing. literally caught with his hands in his pants.
with a sigh, yuji decides to go to his room. if he's going to jack off to the thought of you, at least he should have the decency to not do it in a shared area.
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the door to the bathroom isn't closed fully, the warm light spilling out from the cracks and shining on the opposite wall. it's like a siren’s call and yuji doesn't even realize his feet are moving again until he's standing in front of it, his hand hovering over the door. one small push and there'd be no privacy. one small push and he could see you fully. one small push.
there’s no hesitation.
yuji licks his lips, his mouth dry despite the humidity in the small room. water droplets cling to the glass of the mirror and shower, slowly running down the surface. the image is obscured but he can still easily make out the shapes. your curves look more pronounced now that you're bare and it's a sight that he never wants to forget.
he must be dreaming, seeing your hands move along your body through the textured and fogged glass. he feels his cock twitch, throbbing and aching in neglect, his erection forgotten as he watches you. you look so beautiful, so so pretty with the water cascading down your skin. one of those ancient marble statues carved in the visage of true beauty, now come to life in front of his very eyes. but here you were, hidden and protected by glass to keep admirers from touching what isn't theirs.
if only yuji could see you without the barrier, if only he could touch you like he wants to. he'd be so delicate with his handling, so thorough to ensure that you wouldn't crack or be damaged. all he wants is the chance to fully appreciate you in all your glory.
perhaps this is his only chance.
yuji’s movements are slow, careful, as he strips down to his underwear. his clothes fall to join your own on the tile. the muggy air sticks to his already hot skin, lingering in his lungs and making every breath heavier than the last. the few steps in the small bathroom seem to be multiplied tenfold, his heart hammering against his ribs and echoing in his ears.
it's not nerves rushing through his veins, though. it's excitement and desire; the mere idea of being able to touch your skin throws logic out of the window. even if you end up hating him, yuji isn't sure that he would regret this moment.
it's a blur of how it happens, his body acting on instinct as he covers your mouth and presses his broad chest against your back. you try to scream, jumping in his hold and fighting to get away.
(you feel so warm.)
yuji easily overpowers you, keeping you exactly where he wants you, a sturdy arm wrapped around your middle. he can feel you panicking, can feel the tenseness in your muscles and the rapid beating of your heart.
(so warm and soft and perfect.)
“‘ts okay,” his lips ghost along your shoulder, his fingers flexing as he tries not to move them yet. “please, let me touch you. i’ll make you feel so good.”
you're stiff against him, hands on his wrists but no longer actively clawing and pushing. he can feel the shaky breaths you’re taking, the exhales from your nose licking against his skin.
(you must want this, too, right?)
“please.” yuji repeats, his begging bordering on pathetic. “you're all i think about. need to touch you, please.”
and it's that honesty, that confession of obsession and desire, that seems to make you relax a bit. or, that’s what yuji wants to believe as you give a small nod, the movement slightly restricted from his hold on you.
yuji’s hand leaves your mouth slowly, almost afraid that you would break if he moved too suddenly. you're so fragile in his eyes, a beautiful doll meant to be observed and admired from afar. made of porcelain and only meant to be touched with gloves.
but the warmth of your skin underneath his fingers proves you are so much better than those damn figures.
“thank you.” his palms immediately cup your tits, gently squeezing the fat of them and groaning quietly at the feel. “oh god, thank you, thank you, thank you.”
it's nothing like he imagined. your tits are so soft in his calloused hands, warmth seeping through your skin and nearly burning him. but he can't pull away, not now.
“fuck,” yuji whispers next to your ear, his hands pulling you flush against him, his cock prodding at your lower back. hooking his chin over your shoulder, he watches in a daze as he gropes at your chest. “so perfect.”
you let him fondle your breasts, biting your lip when his fingers graze over your nipples, trying your best to keep your reactions neutral. he squeezes and kneads, pushes your tits together, makes them jiggle a bit, too — anything his mind can think of. it was only a matter of time, though, until he shifted his focus to your stiffening buds.
“look at ‘em.” he pinches your nipples, a sharp pleasure pain that zings down your spine and pulls a squeak from you. “you look so pretty.”
he's no expert, but yuji prides himself on being a quick learner. he repeats the action, adds a kiss to your shoulder for good measures, desperate to get the same reaction. he promised to make you feel good after all, right?
and if you end up enjoying this as much as he wants you to, well then, maybe you wouldn't hate him so much when it's all said and done. it's a win-win, really.
you whine softly at his touch and the sound goes straight to his aching dick.
“don't hold back,” he pleads, lips trailing up your shoulder to press against your neck. now that you're finally in his hold, he doesn't plan on wasting a single second of contact. “w’nna hear all your noises. please. always sound so sexy.”
“yuji,” a sweet moan spills from your pretty mouth and yuji swears that he could cum right then. his name on your lips sounds so sinful — no, heavenly. there's surely no better sound in the world and he wants to hear it over and over again.
“fuck, say it again.” his voice is dripping with desperation, hips jumping to rut against your back. you must be made for him, must be made to say his name because nothing will ever compare.
yuji’s cock leaks globs of precum as you do as he asks — begs for — his boxer briefs sticking so uncomfortably to his heated skin. they're soaked through, the white fabric becoming practically transparent and if you were turned the other way, you'd surely see how badly he wants you.
a hand runs down your front, gradually sliding until he reaches your pussy, cupping it and feeling the warmth bleed into his skin. his breathing is heavy and hot — suffocating, almost — with the water spraying around you. slowly, carefully, yuji presses his finger between your lips, feeling as though time pauses and the world shrinks down until it's just you and him. nothing else could possibly matter because he has your slick arousal gathering on his first knuckle.
it's a fucking wet dream come true.
you're tight around him, not so much that he can't move, but enough that his cock throbs when he imagines what it'll feel like when he sinks himself inside.
(would you let him?)
his finger starts a steady pace of thrusting in and out, gentle and shallow movements.
“so wet,” yuji mumbles, voice dropping as he staves off a groan. his other hand squeezes at your tit, a lot less gentle and a lot more hungry. an internal battle of wanting to drag this out for as long as possible and needing to push you to your limits immediately. he wants to savor this, take his time exploring every inch of your body that he can, but his dick hurts from how hard it is. he wants to devour you, too.
another finger prods at your dripping pussy, pushing past and making you moan so pretty.
your body is pressed so close to his own, pinned between his strong arms and hips, unable to control himself from humping onto you. your fingers wrap around his wrists, anchoring yourself as he rubs at your puffy clit. every sound you make spurs him to pull more from you.
“can i,” his tongue darts out to lick at his lips, his breathing labored from the desire flowing through him. “can i fuck you? please, just — hah — just a few thrusts, promise i’ll stop after, just need to feel you.”
you don't even finish nodding before yuji peels his wet underwear down enough for his cock to spring free, groaning softly. his tip is drooling when he pulls his foreskin back, shiny with precum and flushed red. he presses it to your swollen clit just to hear you whine softly, hoping you're just as desperate as he is.
“thank you, fuck, need this so bad.” yuji pushes you to the shower wall, the tile cold against your skin but the scorching heat of his body still makes you shiver.
his hand shakes as he guides himself in, sliding his cock into the person he's fantasized about far too often to be normal. finally feeling your body underneath his fingertips and hearing your delicious moans and tasting your skin on his tongue. he'd be convinced this wasn't real — just some cruel dream his horny mind conjured up — if it weren't for the squeeze of your cunt as he pushes another inch deeper.
“feel so good,” his hand on your hip tightens it's hold, fingertips sure to leave a beautiful bruise. every thrust forward sinks more of his cock inside you, sheathing himself in your perfect pussy. “so warm.”
it's hard, nearly impossible, to control his hips, to restrict himself from fucking you the way he's thought about. all he can think about is burying himself inside you until he can't go any deeper, grinding until he spills his load, staying in your cunt and starting all over again. your pussy would be so swollen, lips puffy and so much cum leaking out of you, and still, yuji wouldn't be satisfied.
and those noises that fall from your lips, your breathy moans and broken cries of his name, it just makes his cock throb.
he's going to cum. you're going to make him cum.
the embarrassment that would usually accompany finishing so soon is far outweighed by the tight heat hugging his cock. how could anyone expect to last when your pussy sucks him in so well?
“oh god, don't, don't make me stop, please.” the words tumble from his mouth, his hips slapping against your ass as he fucks you fast and hard. that familiar tightening in his stomach threatening to snap at any moment. he knows he said he would pull out but he doesn't want to. he really doesn't want to.
“d-don’t stop, yuji,” you whine out, your fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth tile, the now cool water making everything more slippery. yuji’s broad body is there to keep you upright, his hands roaming over every part of you he can reach. “don't fucking stop.”
he's not sure if he could stop anyway, you just feel so good around him. he's gotten a taste for you and now he's addicted, already looking for his next hit. would you hate him if he did this again? if he falls to his knees in front of you and begs to be between your legs once again?
but with the way you're moaning and tightening around him, yuji might just be lucky enough to have your cum on his tongue later.
his teeth graze against the sensitive spot on your neck, nipping and sucking at it until there's a dark color blooming. a mark.
a claim.
this is what he's dreamed of, what he's jerked off to countless times. and it's so much better than what yuji could ever imagine.
your pussy flutters around him and he quickly snakes his hand around your front, frantically rubbing at your clit and hoping he can ensure you orgasm first.
“cum for me, please,” he whispers, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “w’nna feel you cum on my cock.”
everything feels so intense, the echoing of the spraying water mixing with the lewd sounds of fucking and skin hitting skin and a symphony of moans. and suddenly, the dam breaks.
“yuji!” you cry out, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you clench, hard. it's heavenly, feeling you spasm around his cock and milking him for all he's worth. he's meant to be here, meant to be inside you.
it's inevitable that he cums, unable to hold off any longer. his hips stutter, grinding slowly against your ass as you both come down from the high.
the water is turning cold by now, a welcome relief from the heat radiating from your bodies. yuji’s chest heaves as he catches his breath, his fingers squeezing gently at your hips before he pulls out. he should feel guilty. he should feel really fucking guilty for everything he did.
but he doesn't.
seeing the marks that he left on your skin and the cum dripping from your pussy just makes him determined to leave more, to fuck you more.
“yuji,” you start, and, fuck, he still loves the way it sounds coming from your mouth. “what… what just happened?”
you turn your head and for the first time since you got off the couch, you can see him clearly. a hand at the back of his neck, a sweet chuckle, and that innocent, boyish smile gracing his features. his face is flushed a pretty pink that matches his hair, the same hair that's stuck to his forehead from the water and sweat from fucking you.
“sorry, couldn't help myself.”
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belphies-cowgirl · 1 year ago
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obey me headcanons pt. 4
word count: 5K+ (oops went a little overboard, hope this doesn't flop though)
Lucifer
he has his records organized alphabetically (Satan & Belphie rearrange them at least once a month) 
he once stood in the kitchen at 3 am cutting up fruits and veggies into pretty designs for his brothers to eat for breakfast (even princess's poison apples in the shape of cats for Satan) but they all assumed you made them and you just agreed while half asleep at the table.
Mammon 
keeps all the notes you take for him in class in a folder hidden in the back of his closet (he never bothered to study half of them) 
shoves hell-sauce-flavored ramen cups under his couch when he doesn't feel like throwing them away. you found them all one time and he was so embarrassed and stuttering so much you thought he was gonna pass out. 
Levi 
dusts his figurines twice a week and has to have his manga lined up neatly in numerical order by series (he WILL hover while you put back one of his mangas that you borrowed)
once fainted when you came into his room cosplaying as one of his favorite characters. poor baby needed a few days to recover after that. but you looked so perfect wearing it and it made his heart explode on sight.
he is crazy talented at digital art, it's a secret hobby of his. you just assume he orders digital prints of your favorite characters off akuzon for you. but he's too shy and embarrassed to tell you he's the one who made them. he thinks you'll reject them if you find out. but it's just another way he shows his love for you, even if you don't know about it. 
Satan 
has cat hair all over his room (obviously) and used-up lint rollers under his bed. he wears a sweater and acts like no one can see all that cat hair.
has specific bookmarks for each genre, but he'll replace some of them with any bookmarks you make/give him. his favorite is the cat bookmark with a bell tied at the end of the string you got him for his birthday (sometimes he shakes the book to hear it jingle)
Asmo 
signs his name in cursive with a little heart after the "o"
sometimes he rubs his nose against yours and then walks away. don't question why, he doesn't need a reason to show you his undying love and affection.
he once shrieked when he found out Beel had accidentally eaten one of his bath bombs. that must explain why Beel sneezed glitter in the common room later that night. 
Beel 
keeps the receipts from all of the places you've both eaten at together.
loves it when you bring home leftover jam/sauce packets for him (he loves the mini-apocalyptic apple ones) 
loves it when you pack extra snacks into his duffle before Fangol games. he'll sit on a bench in the locker room after a game and happily munch on them while blushing. you're so sweet for always doing that, he'll reward you with forehead kisses when he gets back to the HoL.
Belphie 
will surprisingly spend time reorganizing his bed in the attic because he stole more of your plushies and has to make room for them (he picks one to curl up with each week) he refuses to give them back but will pout and whine when you say you want them back. if you try to take one back while he's napping his tail will reach out for it and hide it under the covers.
is a little shit (a brat and a menace but anyways <3) he'll whine when you try to get up from under the covers or if you move too much in your sleep. he'll wrap his tail around your leg or waist to keep you from moving. you went to stand up one time and fell forward because his tail was wrapped tightly around your ankle. he glared at you, scoffed, then rolled over, mumbling about how you're always so noisy and clumsy. 
Diavolo 
used to feed the Little D's. Barbatos found out about it because they kept leaving crumbs behind, and later scolded Diavolo and the Little D's. 
keeps a little figurine you got him as a good luck charm on his desk while he does paperwork. sometimes it distracts him because he'll glance at it and start smiling like an idiot just thinking about you, he always shoots you a text afterward.
Barbatos
listens to metal/rock and I refuse to believe otherwise.
sometimes lets the Little D's listen to music while they attend to their daily duties. they'll end up singing and dancing, but one glance from him and they get back to work immediately. 
Simeon 
leaves cute little notes in your locker or slips them into your textbooks/notebooks for you to find later in class. "good luck on your exam today! :)" or if he's feeling romantic, "you look even more ethereal than usual today <3" he has so much romantic rizz and is completely oblivious about it most of the time. like yeah, you totally just swooned and blushed for no reason.
has really good memory. he'll remember almost anything you say or do, but won't remember anything when it comes to technology. he'll be sitting next to you and randomly bring up the most specific thing that you did two months ago on a Friday. yet he can't remember how to check his call log or change a contact picture (he tries to change yours a lot because he just can't decide which picture to use, they're all so perfect)
Solomon 
drinks tea and coffee out of flasks and beakers sometimes because he's too lazy to wash a few mugs. 
he’s basically “malewife” material, but he does NOT need to be in the kitchen. there's a reason why you carry a mini container of antacids with you. he'll lowkey pout when he notices you keep making excuses for not eating his food. come on, one bite won't hurt, he put so much love into that oozing sandwich that just moved a little bit on the plate.
lets you doodle on his notes during class (he teases you about it every time) he writes around the doodles and will cut them out once he no longer needs the notes. he uses them as bookmarks or keeps them in his little memento box. he's the type to keep movie tickets and polaroids with the date written on the back. he kept a polaroid of you making a surprised face when you realized he was taking a picture of you sitting on his bed wearing a facemask and snacking while scrolling on your D.D.D. 
Luke 
keeps a mini first-aid kit in his backpack. did you get a papercut? he's got a bandaid on standby.
he’ll sometimes leave a sweet treat in your locker for you to eat during lunch (in a tupperware container in case you wanna save it for later) he's so precious and puts so much love into his baking.
hides frosting tubes in his nightstand drawer. will throw them all away in a random trashcan at RAD when he's finished with them. can't have Simeon questioning the sudden pile of frosting tubes in the trashcan, which are coincidentally Luke's favorite flavors.
✄ ——————————————————————
feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me a message, or an ask <3
please do not use my work as your own! 
m.list
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hyperfixiation-station · 10 months ago
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Welcome Home
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Based off this post by @simon-rileys :))
Pairing: GhostxReader
Summary: Picking Ghost up from the airport after 3 month long mission with your 4-year-old daughter. What could possibly go wrong?
I did write this on my phone, so please please please let me know if there are any errors. And, as always, no beta!
"Layla!" You say sternly, "stop running around, you're going to get hurt." Your 4-year-old daughter completely ignores you, just giggles and keeps running in circles around the baggage claim.
You sigh and shake your head, grinning ruefully. You can't blame her for her excitement. After all, she's going to see her dad after 3 longs months away. You'd be running around too if your body could manage it. Your heart rate quickens in anticipation at the thought, and you bounce up and down for a moment before getting winded and going back to monitoring Layla.
You watch her little braids with pink bows at the end flop up and down as she runs, zig zagging every which way. Oh well. As long as she is in your sights you can't get too upset. You shake your head as she squeals again, barely dodging an old man as she makes another lap, her chubby little legs never running out of energy
Where she gets it from, you'll never know. You certainly don't have that much energy. Especially not now. You laugh to yourself, looking down at where the small but obvious bulge in your stomach is, the sign of life that you have so carefully hidden with one of Simon's hoodies. Your hand strays to your pocket to touch the ultrasound photos, the ones you got a week ago when you went to find out the gender. You run your finger nervously along the edge of the photos, equal parts excited and anxious to tell Simon you are pregnant again.
You still remember telling him when you were pregnant with Layla. He'd been home at the time, and you had been absolutely terrified. You weren't even married at the time, and had never spoken about wanting kids. You almost had a breakdown when you handed him the positive pregnancy test and he just stared at it in silence. That was, until he looked up at you with a genuine smile and tears in his eyes and asked you to marry him. He didn't even have a ring.
Distantly you hear your daughter shriek, snapping you out of the memory. Your head shoots up, eyes wide and searching for her little form. You rake your eyes over the room, but you see no sign of a brunette in a little pink dress.
"Layla!" You cry, hurrying towards where you heard her voice, at the junction where the wrong terminal meets the baggage claim, "Layla, stay where I can see you!" She doesn't respond, and your heart rate picks up as you start to list off the worst-case scenarios.
"Layla!"
Ghost steps off the escalator, lips twitching under his mask. He had gone the roundabout way, take an extra 15 minutes to walk all the way to the other terminal, just so he could surprise his girls.
Gods he can't wait to see them. Yes, 3 months was really not that long compared to some of his other deployments, but to him, anytime spent away from his family felt like torture.
He never thought he would end up like this, a wife and a kid and a figurative white picket fence. It had always been in the cards for him to die alone. Or at least, he thought it was. And then you forced your way into his life, gave him something to fight for, gave him something worth living for. And gods how he loved you.
He hears a familiar giggle and freezes, snapping out of his reverie. He trains his eyes on the end of the hall, watching the crowd for you and Layla. Sure enough, a little pink ball of destruction comes hurtling around the corner, running full-speed for him. He drops his duffle bag to the ground, and waits for you to show, brow furrowing when you don't follow behind her.
He doesn't have time to dwell on it though, as his daughter appears before him in all her pink, glittery glory.
"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" She shrieks, launching herself at him. He wraps his arms around her, and hold her tight to his chest inhaling deeply. He can feel her small shoulders shaking, can hear her sniffing, can feel her tears on his neck. Guilt overwhelms him for a moment, self-hatred overpowering him for making her cry. Its gone in an instant, his frown vanishing as Layla places a sloppy kiss on his eyebrow, his cheeks are still covered by a mask.
"Daddy!" She squeals again, burrowing her face in his chest. "I mithed you!" Tears prick his eyes at the sound of her voice. He forgot how much he missed her adorable little lisp.
"I missed y' too, baby girl." He presses his forhead to hers for a moment before looking up, his eyes scanning the hallway for you, frowning again when your still not in sight. "Wh're's y'r mother?"
"She was being thlow tho I lef' her." She informs him, grinning happily as she plays with his dog tags, her head resting against his shoulder. He grins, closing his eyes for a moment as he savors the feeling of his daughter in his arms.
"She's slow, huh?" Ghost huffs, shaking his head at his daughter's antics, "well then le's go meet 'er."
Layla grabs at his face, shaking her head rapidly, looking a serious as an over-excited 4-year-old can manage.
"She has an 'uprise for you." She informs him solemnly. He tries nto to laugh, knowing shes trying to be very serious, but fails. She frowns, squeezing his face with her chubby little hands.
"I'th no' funny." She says crossly, " Mommy 'as an 'uprise for you."
"A surprise?"
"Yeth." She looks around, eyeing the strangers in the terminal before leaning next to his ear, "I'm not appothed t' thay nothin', but-" she breaks off into peals of laughter as Ghost covers her mouth with his free hand.
"If mommy says you're not supposed t', then y'r not sup-" He pauses, hearing your frantic voice echoing from around the corner, "y' didn't tell y'r mother where y' were goin', did ya now baby girl?"
She at least has the decency to look ashamed, hiding her face in his jacket as she shakes her head. He laughs softly and shifts, bending to pick up his duffle bag with his free arm. His daughter clings to his neck, her head buried in his chest as he moves down the hallway, heading toward your panicky voice.
"Layla where did yo-"
"I've got 'er luv, dontcha worry." You freeze in your tracks as Simon rounds the corner, your daughter in his arms. You stare at him wide-eyed, drinking in the sight of him af6er so many months apart. He's in a hoodie and jeans, a black mask covering the lower portion of his face. His dogs tags are out, Layla twirling them in her fingers. He looks exhausted and scruffy, his clothes dirty and torn, but you could care less. Just the sight of him alive and well is enough to make you cry.
He drops his bag to the ground and kicks it out of the way, opening his free arm to you. Tears well in your eyes as you launch yourself at him, wrapping you arms around him and Layla. His arm wraps around you and yoi feel him lean bacm, pulling you slightly off the ground, gently swinging you side to side before setting you down.
You stand in his embrace for a minute, face pressed into his side, savoring the feeling of being in his arms again. Your shoulders begin to shake, tears slipping from your eyes as you inhale deeply, the scent of him like manna to your soul. You let out a small sob and tighten your grip, digging your fingers into his side. You stand like that for a few minutes, a little family reunion in the middle fo the hallway, you sobbing silently while Simon rests his chin on your head, Layla's heel digging into your ribs. You pull back a moment later, rubbing a hand across your eyes as you inhale shakily.
"I missed you Si'." You laugh wetly, looking up at him. He doesn't say anything, just grabs you and pulls you in again, your head resting on his chest. Your daughter's chubby hand moves to rest on your head, her fingers twisting your hair into painful knots. You don't notice, to focused on trying not to cry again.
"I missed y' too luv." He murmurs after a minute, his chest rumbling beneath your forehead. He holds you for a few more seconds before stepping back, his eyes suspiciously shiny. "Now Layla says y' have a surprise f'r me?"
"That I do, dove." You sniff, rubbing your nose with the the back of your hand. You look down, biting your lip nervously as you take another step back. You slip your hand into your pocket, fingers closing around the little bundle of photos.
"Y'gonna expla-" His voice trails off as you pull the pictures from your pocket, handing them out to him. You watch as he gently sets Layla down and takes a slow step forward, his movements almost reverent. He takes the photos from your waiting hand, his eyes growing wet as he studies the photos of the 4 month old baby you have growing inside you. He can't read them, but he knows what they represent. After all, he has one of Layla's ultrasound photos in the pocket of his vest.
"Is this-are you…"
"Yes." You laugh, your voice thick, "we're having a baby boy. In April."
He laughs, a rare, genuine one, and sweeps you up in his arms, spinning you around in a circle. He sets you back down but doesn't let go. His hands slide down to your waist as he leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes close as your arms wrap around his neck, and he exhales shakily, the warm air making your eyes flutter. You stand like that for what feels like ages, forehead-to-forehead, just breathing in the other's presence.
"Mommy!" You are brought back to the real world by your daughter, who is standing with her hand on her hips and glaring at you, "Th'op hogging daddy to yourthelf! I wanna turn!"
You chortle softly, stepping back from Simon. He huffs and shakes his head, giving you a very 'she gets this from you' type look. He scoops her up as she squeals, positioning her on his hip. He crouches and grabs his bag, hoisting it on his shoulder before grabbing your hand amd interlacing fingers. You step forward, tugging him behind you as you lead him out of the airport and back home.
"Was it a good surprise?" You murmur as you walk to the car.
"Very, luv."
"I'm glad. How would you feel if I tell you we're having twins?"
So here it is, a month later than promised @simon-rileys @dwkfan , sorry 'bout that
Lemme know what you think :)
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egoistars · 2 months ago
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HIIII I just saw your post about your event and thought I'll be silly and request smthing ^_^ ok sooo first time meeting ness ! 😯 (one shot or hc whichever you feel more comfy writing! <3) have a great dayyy (⁠^⁠3⁠^⁠) ♪
ACADEMICALLY SMART BUT EXTREMELY STUPID alexis ness
aka. how u meet ness aka academic rivals to lovers but ness dont gaf bc hes just trying to #play #ball
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you meet him at quite a young age and share a few things in common
ill fitting school uniforms and the wandering eyes of any child
while you find yourself fascinated by the numbers written on your teacher's chalkboard, ness is folding dinosaurs and stars on pieces of scrap paper, mumbling to himself
you didn't mind him and he didn't mind you
you guys were classmates and that was that
but then middle school came around and you started acting like you had a stick up your ass 24/7 as long as ness was around
like wtf that mf almost never studies why is he at the top of your class...
suddenly you get distracted in classes because you're focused on drawing mini ness figures with fat x's covering his face and devil horns
ness sees this one day after your notebook fell to the ground and at first is like omg!!! cute drawing of me as a fantasy creature but then he was like wait what the fuck why do they have it out for me????
he barely thought about you until then but apparently you've developed a passionate hatred for him just because he scores higher grades
he still has no clue
you are FUMING
so you start studying even more if that's even possible
while you go to your schools library to bust your ass in the textbooks ness goes outside with a ball he managed to shove into his bag and starts kicking it around
ness: :D ball!!!! no school!!! ball :D
you: KILL YOURSELF KILL YOURSELF KILL YOURSELF KILL YOURSELF
after one particularly hard test that you flopped (it was like an 80% be serious) you caved in and asked ness with help studying
he looked at the material and was like man idk it just makes sense
little boy thought you were going to punt him into hell like he does with his football
him, terrified out of his mind and just wanting to go to his football club meeting, sits down and looks at the material
you show him your notes and he quickly explains it but is running late on time
he gives you his number and says hes going to text you help
you went home that day like ???? that dude lied to me he isnt sending me shit ??? before it clicked
he does not text you because he does not have your number... he gave you his number...
so you swallow your pride and shoot him a message, begging for help a second time in the same day and on his end, he laughs at you a little but offers to call
you guys work on the subject for a good couple hours and before you hang up, you offer to study together for future exams because he's admittedly a good teacher
ness is trying to find a way to say "no thanks i don't care about school good luck tho XD ROFL LOLLLLL" but then he realizes that it's going to make his parents trust him a little more
he accepts and you guys go to the library together once a week
he finds that you're actually kind of funny and cool and not just a human bomb that's plotting his death
he tries to be slick about offering to meet more often
"oh... this unit is a lot more difficult than the last one.... you wanna heh.... come back tomorrow? *gulp*"
"ok"
"WOOOO"
one day ness told you he was going to try out for bastard munchen and you somewhat knew of them because of ness going on tangents about football
you supported him on it, not realizing it would cut down your weekly meetings
suddenly there was an alexis-shaped-hole in your chest but you didn't want to admit it to him
and for alexis, there was a you-shaped-hole in his chest that he tried to fill by training with kaiser and the rest of bastard munchen
yes, the team was filled with dicks, but none of them had the same foul personality you had!!
texts dvery day checking up on each other but it was nothing like hanging out in person
calls were better but still not the same
as soon as he heard about his first off day, he called you and asked to hang out
you tried to be nonchalant about it but who were you kidding both of you guys wanted to see each other again
although the directions of life the two of you were headed towards were almost polar opposites, being reunited at a stupid library table for the first time in months was all that mattered
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changbunnies · 9 months ago
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One & Only (18+)
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♡ Pairing: Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader
♡ Genre: fluff, smut, pre-established relationship, some light plot to establish the setting, college au but it's a background detail
♡ Word Count: 4.6k
♡ Summary: Following a perfect Valentine's Day date, you decide you're ready for the next step in your relationship with Chan. You want him, and you know he wants you- and the only thing left to do is tell him exactly how you feel.
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (pretty, baby) corruption kink, virgin + inexperienced reader, mutual masturbation, fingering (f rec), handjob
♡ Notes: i wanted to upload something short (compared to what i usually write anyways) for valentines day and i’ve been wanting to write corruption kink channie for a while now, so what better time to do it! i hope you enjoy <3
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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You sighed as you flopped on the bed, freshly changed into your pajamas- next to you lies Chan, your best friend and roommate turned boyfriend, easily the love of your life, and you nervously chew your bottom lip, faced with the choice of what to do next now that your first Valentine's Day as a couple had come to an end. Returning to your shared apartment, nerves rattling away at you as you changed out of your prettiest, formal dress and now on the bed, trying your best not to overthink your situation. 
If you were being blunt and honest, you just really wanted to have sex with him- or at least take the next step in that direction. But the thought of it was utterly nerve wracking; every time he looked at you with his handsome, dimpled smile and pretty brown eyes, and you pictured seeing that same expression while he was hovering over you in your newly shared bed, it made your heart race out of control.
After an awkward, impromptu confession that led to you becoming a couple, the two of you slowly began sharing your space, until one day you stopped going back forth between bedrooms and decided to just share one. You chose your room to share in the end- Chan, the gentleman that he is, let you have the larger room when you moved into this apartment as roommates, and it was the natural choice when deciding which of you would be moving their belongings into the other room. And it was nice, exciting even, to help Chan move his belongings into your space until it became not justs yours but his too. 
But lately, sharing a bedroom served a problem- now that you slept in the same bed every night, you were becoming increasingly more aware of how badly you want him. And thanks to being friends and roommates before you were together, you knew had experience- experience that you felt you were sorely lacking. And it's not like you ever felt shame over the fact that you were still a virgin in college (as it's much more realistic than tv shows and movies would lead you to believe) but somewhere deep down you worried your lack of experience would make things awkward and unenjoyable.
That awareness of experience was equal, because in turn Chan was well aware of your sexual history (or lack thereof). You knew he wouldn't judge you, he would never be anything but kind and considerate, but it was hard to prevent self doubt from digging its claws into your embarrassingly fragile heart. You knew it was silly to feel this way knowing all that you do about Chan's character and his care for you that extends beyond titles of friend or girlfriend, but your nerves ate away at you regardless.
You kissed people before Chan, and that was unfortunately the extent of your prior experience. Your kisses were shared with fleeting crushes in high school, inside the confines of short lived relationships that never made it past first base. You didn't mind at the time- you weren't ready for more then, and you weren't going to compromise on sex just to keep a relationship going. But now here you were, an adult with little to no experience; and now that you were ready you were plagued by the idea that all of the awkwardness and exploration you could've gotten past in your adolescence will now be Chan's burden.
He wouldn't actually view it as such, you knew for a complete fact that he wouldn't- but the thing about self doubt is that logical thought does little to prevent it from taking root. And you felt terrible because Chan noticed you were feeling off since coming back to the apartment following your date; of course he did, he always noticed when you weren't acting like your usual self. You had such a perfect date together and now you were ruining it with your virginal rumination.
"What's on your mind, pretty?" Chan asks as he tucks the fallen hair behind your ears, the beautiful necklace he gifted you as your date came to a close perfectly adorning your neck. A silver locket in the shape of a heart, with dainty gems accented into the patterned engraving, which you opened to find a picture of the two of you after your first date. It was so perfect that you were speechless, and he admitted it took him months of saving to afford it (which was why your Christmas gift was something much less expensive in comparison and instead purely sentimental.)
"I-I'm sorry, I just.." you swallowed as you looked at him, your heart squeezing both from your nerves and from just how soft his expression is. "I was just thinking.. that I want to do more than just.. makeout, y'know..?"" You try your best not to blush from the admission, especially not when he starts smiling at you, but you can't stop your face from burning, and you turn your gaze away from his eyes, embarrassment taking its hold.
"Baby, look at me," he speaks softly but you can hear the smile in his voice before you even meet his gaze again to see it. It's a gentle smile that relays sweetness and care, but there's an underlying excitement beneath; because while he would never do anything to rush or pressure you along, he obviously wants more too. You're gorgeous, his best friend, his dream girl- of course he wants you. "You sure? I know it's a special day but we don't have to rush it or anything. I've already got the perfect gift."
You smile- timidly, but genuinely. He's so impossibly sweet, always; it's one of the main reasons why you fell for him in the first place. "Yeah, I'm sure- and I promise it's not just because it's Valentine's Day. I've been thinking about it, and I really want to, I'm just.. nervous is all. I've never.. you know.." You hesitantly meet his stare, your hand now nervously and unconsciously fiddling with the locket he gifted you that hangs from your neck.
It’s unceremonious the way his cock starts to throb from your timid words alone, almost shameful. He doesn't even know how much further than making out you're even going to go, but his body reacts regardless, independently from his brain that recognizes your need for slow, careful affection. There’s a million things he wants to say- “we’ll go slow” or “I’ll take care of you” or even “I love you” but his brain practically short circuits when you lift yourself from the pillows, locket dangling as you come closer to him, leaning down to press your lips to his. 
A moment of confidence? Or maybe you already knew all the things he’d say and didn’t need to hear them? You’re not entirely atop him- that’s still a step too far in uncharted territory, but this at least.. Kissing him is something you can do without getting in your own head about experience and desirability. His fingers rest behind your ear, his thumb stroking your cheek as he kisses you- softly and slowly at first, the way he always does. It’s always a build up, his lips taking their time, his every caress careful but deliberate. 
He always makes your heart race when he kisses you, makes your stomach do somersaults and blood run hot. Nerves aside, it’s undeniable how much you want him. One hand on his chest and the other in his hair, he’s careful when sits up from the bed to adjust your positions, conscious to not cause you to remove your hands from his body as you move in tandem with him. You let him lay you back down, catching just a glimpse of him hovering over you before your eyes are closing again as he kisses you. When his tongue licks your lips, you open your mouth to him without so much as a thought- it’s automatic, innate the way you welcome him into you. 
It always makes you dizzy, the way Chan’s tongue dances around yours, swirling and building the excitement from deep within your gut to new heights you didn’t know possible. This time however, there’s an added desire, his kisses and gentle touches more impassioned with the promise that you’ll be giving him more; more skin to kiss and touch, to feel under his calloused fingertips, to admire and love and venerate. You’re all he wants, all he’s ever wanted, really; and he wants you to know, desperately wants to show you how much he desires you. 
One arm holds his weight up while the hand on your face starts to trail away, fingers tracing the skin it travels over. Careful, slow, deliberate- it’s foreign but comfortable, somehow. When he hesitates, you affirm, you chase his touch, you pull him back, you silently plead with desperate eyes and eager breaths. Your face grows hot when your shirt comes off, his gaze hungrier when met with the sight of your bare chest, nipples hardened more so from the building anticipation than from the cool air. 
He wants to dote on you- call you cute, caress your burning cheeks, kiss the blush on your face and feel the heat of it on his lips. So he does, slowly so as to not overwhelm you, word choice careful as to not embarrass you. Your cheeks burn brighter, but you smile; a cute, shy one that his cock reacts to in equal measure to his heart. Pretty, beautiful, cute, he says it all as he starts to trail his kisses around the shell of your ear and to your neck. 
And you’re shy, impossibly so, but you indulge in the affection, as happy as you are timid and out of your depth. You can count on a single hand the amount of times he started kissing your neck during a makeout session, and you were always left wanting more but were much too sheepish to admit your building desire. But after that first time, when you were in the bathroom that night and saw the trail of small, just barely visible bruises left behind on your neck, you knew- you wanted more, and he was being considerate, holding back for your sake. 
You didn’t need that anymore, nor did you want him to- don’t hold back, don’t hesitate, leave your mark for all to see, touch and kiss and suck wherever you want. That’s what you want to tell him, but it’s hard to formulate that thought into words when the feeling of his lips on your neck and fingers ghosting over your nipples makes your brain grow fuzzy. He’ll get the hint though, you think, when you tilt your head to the side to allow him easier access to your skin and a whine leaves your lips. 
He can feel your body tremble, can hear and feel your breath hitch when his attention to your skin grows in intensity. Harsher sucks to your pulse point, more deliberate rubs of your nipples between his fingers- still careful, but no longer entirely delicate, as if you’re made of porcelain. No, his touches are now firmer, with more purpose and intention, more confidence now that it’s clear your admission of wanting more was not something said just to appease his growing desire to have you. 
He throbs when he pulls back to look at you; face flushed, skin varying in shades of pink and red, breath a near pant, hair fanned out and growing messy, the locket he gave you still staring back at him in the middle of it all. His fingers trail over it and you watch him carefully, trying to gauge what he’s feeling. “Should I take it off..?” you ask, wondering if it’ll get in the way somehow and he quickly shakes his head, leaning back down to you, his lips just barely touching yours. 
“Fuck no, leave it on. I love seeing it on you like this. Like-” he stops a moment, carefully considering if what he’s going to say will scare you off. But fuck it, you’re all being honest tonight, right? So why shouldn’t he say what he’s really thinking? “Like you’re mine. All mine,” he finally says, and though shy, you smile as you expertly play into it, feeding his fantasies. “I am yours Channie, I’m always yours.” Oh, you really have him now (as if he wasn’t already impossibly yours to begin with- you don’t even know the depth of his belonging to you.) 
Chan thought about you like this so many times- for years if he's being honest. He always felt guilty; the way he fantasized about you, his best friend for all his formative years and then his roommate, spread out for him and crying his name, clutching him so tightly that your nails dig into his skin. He just couldn't control it, and even his dreams, which were once innocent in nature (if you could believe it), you were there, whimpering on his cock, back arching as hushed whispers of praise were spoken into your ears, your eyes rolling back and drool escaping the corner of your parted lips. 
He wanted you, fuck, he wanted you, always have and he’s sure he always will. A single kiss and then he’s pulling back again, his hands trailing just over the hem of your pajama shorts. You unconsciously hold your breath, and maybe it’s his ability to read the nerves all over your expression that lead him to hesitate, capturing your gaze with sweet consideration despite how much he yearns to see all of you. “Nervous?” he asks and you nod, thankful when he kisses away the tension building in your body. 
“It’s okay if you’re not ready for that yet,” he reassures you, taking his hands away from your hips and instead moving them up to your waist, where he knows you’re comfortable with his touch. “I-I am, I want to, I promise! It’s just..” you trail off, and Chan offers you a sweet smile, stroking your cheek as you once again fumble nervously with the locket on your neck. “It’s a lot, I know,” he finishes for you, and you’re relieved he understands (not that you even suspected otherwise- he’s always been the sweetest guy you know.) 
He returns to kissing you softly and sweetly, his hands exploring the regions he knows you to be ready for, never wandering too far below your stomach. When he pulls away, your curiosity gets the better of you- you look where he rests between your legs, his erection noticeably straining in his sweatpants, a wet patch of what can only be pre-cum darkening the gray fabric. While you feel shy looking at it, Chan seems to welcome the curiosity, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Want to see it?” he asks and you gulp, tearing your eyes away to look back at his face. “Y-Yeah, can I..?” 
“Course, baby,” he replies easily, his smile growing ever so slightly as he straightens up to remove his pants. You swallow, blush flaring as you watch him slide his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. Rather than returning to his spot between your legs, he settles next to you, sitting up against the headboard and making himself comfortable. Chan looks at you, watching as your eyes travel and drink him in; you take notice of how his cock twitches as you stare, how pre-cum steadily drips from the tip, how prominently his vein runs down the length of it.
You're not sure what words are appropriate when it comes to describing your feelings towards seeing him bare, but you know you like it- you really like it. Your gaze makes him throb- desire, need, love, all wrapped together with a pretty ribbon of innocence and purity. He's being patient, but fuck, he wants to ruin you, wants to see your eyes well with pretty tears and body painted with ropes of his cum. "Do you want to touch it?" he asks, hopeful and raging with want- for you, your touch, your kiss, your pleasured voice, everything.
"Y-Yes, but.. I don't know how to.. how do I make you feel good..?" you ask with the cutest pout he's ever seen, and he truly feels like his heart is getting struck by lightning; you're going to drive him insane with need before the night is over. "I can show you," he offers, smiling when you quickly nod. You're amazed by how confidently he takes it in his hand, not a single ounce of shyness to be found in his actions, unlike you; you wonder if you'll ever be the same- able to act without timid embarrassment eating away at you.
Even compared to his large hands, Chan's cock appears impossibly thick, and you swallow as you watch him collect pre-cum from the head before he spreads it down the entirety of his length. His fingers trace the vein before he takes it fully in his hand, his gaze entirely fixed on your face as he starts to slowly pump himself. You swallow, completely mesmerized, the butterflies in your stomach thrashing violently. You look back up to his face when you hear his breath shudder, blush growing with the realization that your stare had an effect on him.
When Chan lets himself look away from your face, he notices the way your thighs press together, how you squirm in place as you watch him, yearning for touch- and it gives him an idea. "Can I-" he exhales a shaky breath, fisting his cock just the slightest bit faster when you meet his gaze again, "Can I see how you make yourself feel good too? Can you show me?" Your face burns hotter, your legs pressing harder together as his question rings in your ears. You swallow, impossibly nervous but equally as excited, and you nod timidly after a few moments of careful consideration.
"Y-Yeah, okay," you mumble as you shift your position to get your pajamas and panties down your legs. You timidly watch his expression as you settle yourself across from him, aware enough that he should have a good view of everything (even if the action of spreading your legs for him makes you want to cover your face in embarrassment.) Chan exhales another breath as he tightens his grip on his cock, licking his lips when he sees just how wet you are. You're dripping and it's all for him, because of him- finally, his dreams become realized.
Similarly to what he did to himself, you rub your fingers up and down between your folds, gathering the arousal on your fingers before you bring them to your aching clit. You bite your lip, shy as ever and embarrassed by the noises that leave you. You close your eyes in an effort to ebb away the shyness and focus on the pleasure, but you're still starkly aware of his presence, of his eyes watching your every move. You can hear his low groans and harsh breaths, can hear the sound of his fist pumping faster when you let out another whimper between your bitten lip.
It astounds you how something this embarrassing can also be so arousing- you don't think you've ever been more excited than you are now, and the mess between your thighs and under your ass is definitely a testament to that. As the moment continues, with you timidly opening your eyes to watch him again, he doesn't fail to notice that you focus entirely on your clit, so he has to ask- "Do you ever- fuck- put your fingers inside?"
God, as if your face isn't already hot enough- but it's a fair question, and you answer as best you can between the noises you fail to keep internal. "S-Sometimes, but- it's- I don't-" you try, though you fail to formulate the words you wish to say; partly due to pleasure fogging your brain, and partly due to not even knowing how to phrase your thoughts the best in the first place. "It's hard? Doesn't feel as good?" Chan takes an educated guess, and you nod, relieved he found the words for you.
He understands- your fingers are dainty, and it must be hard trying to get them angled deep, hard to find the spot that makes you see stars when you have to contort your body to barely comfortable positions. "If you want- if you're comfortable, I can.. do it for you..? Help you?" Oh. If you're being honest, you've thought about how good his fingers must feel so many nights while touching yourself, wondering about how good they'd make you feel, how expertly they'd make you cum. "R-Really? You want to?" you ask- perhaps a stupid question, but there's still a part of you that can't even believe he's attracted to you, even this far into your relationship.
"God, yes, isn't it obvious? C'mere, baby," Chan beckons you back to him, and you oblige. You crawl your way back to your spot next to him, sitting on your knees but with your legs still spread apart. He takes his dominant hand off his cock, bringing it instead between your legs, slowly rubbing and getting his fingers wet enough to slide easily inside. His opposite hand resumes the motion on his cock, and you unconsciously tremble- both because of the hand between your legs, and because the sight before you is so fucking hot (to put it bluntly.)
"You're so fucking sexy," Chan utters, starting with just one finger, pressing it inside slowly, and your reaction is immediate- body shuddering as a gasp escapes you, biting your lip as he pumps his finger slowly, ensuring you're comfortable and adjusted before he adds another. "Pretty, so pretty," he continues, the tips of fingers rub your deepest parts with hardly any effort on his part, and when he finds your sensitive spot you positively jolt, every nerve constricting as if thrown in an ice bath, body tense, stomach clenching as the pleasure builds.
"My gorgeous fucking baby- feels good, doesn't it?" he asks, a theoretical question with no expected answer, but you're whining and nodding your head, your hips acting independently of the rest of you, rolling and bouncing and chasing every ounce of pleasure that can be derived from Chan's fingers. He presses his thumb to your clit, simply keeping pressure there as the motion of riding his fingers provides all the friction you need.
"C-Channie, feels so good, think I'm gonna-" before you can finish voicing the words, you're gasping and crying out. You're hot, your dripping with sweat, you're utterly floating as you're hit with wave after wave of explosive pleasure. He doesn't dare remove his fingers until you've finished riding it out, but to his surprise, you grab his wrist when he starts to pull his hand away, your eyes glassy and pleading.
"More? Please, more?" you ask so sweetly, and again he throbs, licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you- debauched, dewy, and flushed, world shattered in the best way possible. "Yeah baby, I can give you more. Course I can," Chan says before he's thrusting his fingers inside as if there was never a pause. Your eyes roll back as you bite your lip, your grip on his wrist tightening as you grind down against his fingers, always meeting them halfway.
When you open your eyes to look at him again, you can't help but notice that the pace of the hand on his cock is sloppy and uneven, and while you doubt you'll fare much better, you decide to take over for him, to try to please him just as much as he has you. You hear him utter a quiet curse as he takes his hand away, letting you replace it with your own. It's a sight, a feeling, that he wants engraved in his memory- you, riding his fingers while your hand desperately pumps his cock, giving him your best effort and trying your hardest to make him cum despite how much your arousal fills your brain with fluff.
"Fuck, baby-" he groans, reaching his hand out to the nape of your neck, pulling you down to capture your lips in a kiss, his tongue shoving it's way in your mouth before you can even process that your lips are touching. His hips buck when your thumb glides over the tip, sensitive and leaking, your soft hands sticky and wet and perfect. You hold his gaze when the kiss breaks, all your shy tendencies and thoughts of embarrassment seeming to fade to the very back of your mind, replaced entirely by desire and need- not just to cum again, which you unmistakably want, but to watch Chan cum too, to watch him fall apart and know that it was all thanks to you.
The room is filled with the slick sounds of your hands working each other, of heavy, panting breaths, of low groans from Chan and barely restrained, quiet whimpers from you, a sinful symphony played exclusively for your own ears. "Oh fuck, fuck-" he grits out, clenching his jaw and brows knitting together as he tries to stave his orgasm off long enough to watch you fall apart again first.
You can feel his vein pulsing beneath your fingers, can feel him twitch and throb, and there's a sense of pride you've never felt before that comes with it- it doesn't just feel good to cum, you realize, it feels good to watch your lover cum too, to be the reason they're losing composure and falling apart. "Y-You're close, Channie? Gonna cum?" He groans as he nods, licking his drying lips as his head falls back, unsure if he can hold it back much longer than he already has.
"Yeah baby, gonna- gonna cum for you, fuck-," Chan, who knows it's only a matter of seconds before he has no choice but to let go, mercilessly targets your sweet spot, his fingers all but drilling into it as his thumb rubs messy circles on your clit. Your hips stutter before your body seizes with overwhelming pleasure, the pace of your hand on Chan's cock faltering as your eyes roll back and you surrender yourself to the blissful sensation washing over you.
Chan follows quickly, the sight of you cumming again on his fingers breaking the already impossibly thin line holding him together, hot cum shooting out and spilling on his chest and stomach. You collapse next to him, legs aching (your knees especially) and body utterly exhausted. Your shyness returns when he turns his head to look at you with a sweet smile on his lips, and you blush as you return the smile.
You're both messy, in desperate need of a shower and a change of bedsheets before you actually sleep, but you bask in the moment regardless. He reaches for a tissue on the nightstand to clean the cum off his stomach before it dries and becomes a pain to wash off, and the moment it's done you're back in his arms, being hugged tight with kisses pressed to your forehead, your warm cheeks, and then your lips.
You curl into him, one of your hands holding the locket as you return his affection, pouring all your unspoken love and affection into the kiss you share. Your first Valentine's Day of hopefully a lifetime more, your joy immeasurable, your love boundless; a perfect day with an equally perfect end. You tell him you love him as he helps you clean up in the shower, he tells you he loves you as he helps you get dressed before he dresses himself, you share “i love you”s as you relax into each other in bed. You sleep, happy and warm and loved, secure in the knowledge that truly, this is only the beginning, and there’s still years worth of experiences left to share.
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genericpuff · 3 months ago
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The excessively passive voice when talking about Minthe being intended to have BPD is hilarious. "It was thought to have her written with BPD"? So weird
Honestly, once you start noticing this passive voice in how Rachel writes and talks, it's kind of hard to unsee.
Like, for starters, the BPD example. It's very non-committal, almost as if to sound like she never actually wrote her with BPD, it was just an 'idea' that she could neither confirm or deny as canon. But then you read the episode with the slap and-
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It's- it's literally called "Splitting". It's about as subtle as a brick to the face. This entire episode showcases Minthe having an actual literal episode of splitting and it's plain as day to anyone who can read the title card and put two and two together. So for the wording to be so passive around her characterization... it wasn't "thought" to have her written with BPD, she was written with BPD.
Another example that sticks out in my mind of Rachel's passive writing is far later in Season 3, when Demeter reunites with Persephone and naturally expects her to come back home with her.
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This line still fucking bothers me to this day. Besides the fact that it's just really poorly written dialogue, Persephone describes her being in love with Hades as if it's just some coincidental thing that happened to her that she can't avoid and not a deliberate choice she's making. "It would seem" my ass, Persephone is a coward for not being upfront and just talking to her mother like an adult by saying, "Mother, I love you, and I understand why you want me to come home, but I'm in love with Hades and want to stay in the Underworld with him." Instead the way it's worded is almost designed to absolve Persephone of any and all agency in her own decisions and active participation in her relationship with Hades by instead making it out to be just some circumstance that she can't get herself out of.
Again, this isn't quite as egregious as the aforementioned BPD scene, but it's still irritating because Rachel writes like this a lot throughout LO. And it's not just the dialogue either, entire decisions throughout the comic are flip-flopped and kept vague by Rachel so she can give herself plausible deniability over the narrative. I could come up with some of my own examples, but I think she managed to speak for herself just fine in the end-of-series Q&A that left both critics and fans of the series massively confused and disappointed:
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LO is full of half-committed plotlines because Rachel herself can't commit to her own decisions. So the decisions she does make are left vague enough that hardcore fans are willing enough to fill in the blanks themselves, but anyone who asks her genuinely what her plan was, she just gives the same wordy "IDK it's up to your interpretation!" response. It's like she thinks people are asking her as just another reader who can only speculate, but she's literally the author, so why is she acting like her guess is as good as theirs?
Well, because that's how she wrote LO. That's how she's always written comics, with vague half-finished thoughts and just enough for readers to do the mental gymnastics of making sense of it all just to give her the credit for "smart writing" that she never actually did because she stopped paying attention after the first sentence. And that method of being vague for the sake of audience interpretation is fine for illustrations or anything that isn't trying to be a concise narrative, but LO did try to be that and it really shows how hard it failed in doing so when its own creator can't even come up with something slightly plausible to explain all the questions people had in the end. "There is some backstory there" but proceeds to not actually expand on said backstory. "I like to imply things without outright telling people", so do I, but the difference is that Rachel is using that as a crutch to not answer the questions she setup for her readers and then didn't resolve after five years. There's not wanting to spoon feed people the plot, and then there's literally refusing to explain your decisions when writing said plot, almost because you don't know any more than they do.
The entirety of LO is rooted in Rachel's passiveness, from her inability to answer questions concisely to every little plot point that was established and dropped throughout the comic's run. Writing a story is a series of decisions, deciding what to keep, deciding what not to keep, deciding what has to be changed, etc. and Rachel just... doesn't seem like someone who's ever been capable of making those decisions, especially when she's writing an actual long form story to the end and doesn't have the luxury of dropping it whenever it feels convenient for her like she did several times with The Doctor Pepper Show. Once she was actually held to a standard, once she was actually signed into a contract that expected her to make those decisions, she failed to and it culminated in one of the messiest conclusions to a story I've seen since Game of Thrones.
LO is kind of like Schrodinger's Cat - a plot point can be or not be whatever it needs to be so that Rachel can be either praised for smart writing she never did or absolved of bad writing that she did do. It's equally parts interesting and vague enough that whatever her readers give her credit for writing, she can give them a thumbs-up and go "you're totally right, champ!" and proceed to take all the credit of being a "good writer" from the efforts of her own audience who had to jump through a million hoops to make sense of her own messy writing.
But when she's put on the spot by those very same readers to answer for her own decisions, she can't.
Because she never made them.
Because there was never anything "deeper" going on, that's just what her style of "distraction writing" made you believe. The plot never lets you stop to think about what you just read long enough before zipping away to the next thing and distracting you with a new twist or a new character or a new plot point, and before you know it, you've gone weeks without reading about the last thing that was established you probably haven't even realized that those questions never got answered. Sometimes Rachel remembers to get back to those things and resolves them within a handful of panels, other times she forgets them entirely and just leaves them to rot in the hopes that no one ever calls her out on it. And when they do... she can just pull the get-out-of-jail-free "Welp, it's up to your interpretation!" card and get that credit all over again for being deep and insightful, meanwhile those who are rightfully dissatisfied with that answer are blanket-accused of "getting mad at Rachel for not writing the story they wanted".
To close out this ask that, per tradition, turned into an essay, I'd like to recall the famous words of fictional detective Benoit Blanc: "Look into the clear center of this glass onion... Miles Bron is an idiot!"
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