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haeiheart · 2 days ago

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lee hyunjae — are we friends? by @haeiheart!!

summary: Another day, another group project… except this time, it couldn’t possibly go wrong, right?? Well. That’s what you thought… until you got stuck with him. It’s just one project!! you just have to survive a few weeks of creative clashes, late-night brainstorming, and totally not noticing the way he lingers a little longer than others right?

genre: college au!, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (bickering mostly), humorous (attempted!), fluff, banter, idiots in love!!, kinda slowburn?

pairings: fashion major! reader x film major! hyunjae

note: wrote this out of pure enjoyment hehe, didn’t think I’d spend so much time just for this but surprisingly i did. Hope you guys enjoy!! >o<

word count: 10.7k + (i didn’t think it would be that long but oh well hehe)

No big deal right? You've survived these before. The excruciatingly long group projects. You've dealt with all sorts of people, the ghosters, the overachievers, the underachievers… yikes let's not get there. Those people somehow manage to contribute nothing and still get the credit you worked your ass off for. At this point, nothing should faze you.

Or so you thought.

Because the second your professor reads out the group pairings, your entire life flash before your eyes. Hyunjae. Sure, you weren't in the same field but you both were still connected as both your majors fall under arts. Anyways, this is bad. Probably worse than getting caught stalking someone by liking their post all the way in 2015.

Your feelings reciprocated, Hyunjae, who is sitting across the room looked absolutely horrified. You cant lie that you didn't have abit of joy from that reaction but you didnt have time to sit and laugh the moment he raised his head, locking eyes with you from across the room as you both feel a soul-crushing moment. You knew this was going to be a long project.

The professor is still talking, listing off other groups which you couldnt bother paying attention to as it slowly turns into white noise at that point. So you take a breath, accepting your reality that you're stuck with Hyunjae.

Stealing small glances at him, you suddenly feel all five-stages of grief kicking in:

Denial: this cannot be happening to me right now, maybe i was mishearing things

Anger: like cmon out of everybody in this room it had to be him, like we aren't even compatible project partners.

Bargaining: would it be weird or too rude of me to ask for a new group?

Depression: this is going to make the next couple of months more exhausting than it should be. Im going to suffer.

Acceptance: yea no, there's no acceptance lets rewind back to depression

As you’re spacing out, a sharp nudge snaps you back to reality.

“Hey are you good?” Your only friend in this god awful class, Eric, whispers, with an amused smirk.

“What do you think.” Still shooting daggers at Hyunjae as you let out a heavy sigh. “This might actually set off a mild heart attack. On second thought, might not even make it”

Eric follows your line of sight to see what was up with you and snickers when he spots Hyunjae still looking as constipated as ever. “Wow i never thought i would see you two together, this should be interesting, congrats” He laughs.

“Oh fuck off, interesting is one word for it” you mutter “honestly i think the word catastrophe matches more” pouting as if it was the end of your world

“Oh cmon he isnt that bad, like sure he could be a handful but he got some qualities” Eric says half teasing and half serious. You knew he could possibly contribute to something, maybe he wasnt completely useless considering he is one of the notable students in his major. But still, you and hyunjae is not meant to co-exist within the same radar. So you will never admit it.

You finally turned around to glare at eric. “Not that bad? Do you even remember last time. We nearly committed arson.

Eric raises a brow, intrigued. “Committed arson? Is this a crime and fight duo or what?”

“Really depends if you consider lighting a backdrop on fire makes us the duo of the year.”

Eric almost chokes on air as he lets out an exaggerated laugh. “You what now”

“Shut up it was a mistake” Giving eric a nasty slap on his arm before side eyeing Hyunjae again. “It was not my fault. It was his. Like who even brings a bunch of scattered unlabeled candles on set where everything is as fragile as glass”

Eric grins “Hey maybe this is fated. Like school has been way too boring for you, so maybe this will be the kind of chaos you need in your life, am i right?” As he is holding back a laugh.

“You just want me to suffer and die.” Rolling your eyes for the 10th time that period. Let’s just suck it up and get it over with. Maybe by any luck he wont be as insufferable as last year.

It was a wednesday. Probably one of the longest days of your week and its about to feel even longer considering who you are meeting today. As you steped inside the cafe you noticed how nice the place actually is in comparison to the chaos thats about to happen in here. The warm glow of the hanging lights, the soft calming low-fi music, the scent of overpriced espresso, the chatter from distant customers about their ongoing relationship drama. All of it feels deceptively peaceful. But nothing about this situation is peaceful for you at least.

As your eyes scan the room, you notice sitting by the window, looking obnoxiously relaxed, is Hyunjae.

He’s slouched in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest like he owns the place, the other lazily scrolling through his laptop. His hair somehow effortlessly messy yet perfectly styled falls over his forehead just enough to be distracting.The sleeves of his sweater are pushed up to his elbows, exposing his ridiculously nice forearms, which is simply just unfair. All of that is combined with the sharp cut of his jawline and that signature lazy smirk, it’s almost infuriating how good he looks without even trying.

Sure, he’s smoking hot, as everybody and their moms would say, but that doesn’t change the fact that he can be a pain in the ass at times. Apparently, being attractive and being a pain can go hand in hand.

You keep your expression neutral as you walk over, adjusting your bag strap before stopping at the table. He barely looks up, just glancing at you before tapping on his screen.

“You’re late,” he says.

You blink. Then check your phone. “It’s literally 2:02.”

“Exactly.”

Your eye twitches.

“Oh my god, I hate you,” you mutter, loud enough that he would hear it despite the low volume of your words, dropping your bag onto the table with a little too much force before sliding into the chair across from him.

Hyunjae leans forward slightly, resting his chin on his palm, and smirks. “And yet, here we are.”

You inhale slowly, mentally counting to three before you start swinging and flipping tables. Before you can form a proper retort, a barista approaches, setting down two drinks on the table.

You glance at them, confused. “Uh… I didn’t order yet.”

Without glancing up from his laptop, Hyunjae lazily slides one of the cups toward you, his fingers still lingering on the lid. “Yeah, I got you something,” he says, voice as nonchalant as ever. “You give off an iced vanilla latte kind of person.” There’s the slightest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, like he knows he’s right.

Your suspicion is immediate. You squint your eyes at the cup like it might explode in your hands. “What’s in it?”

He finally looks up, amusement flickering in his dark eyes as his lips curl into a slow grin. “Poison.”

“You stare at him, unimpressed.

“Relax,” he chuckles, nudging the cup closer. “Just an iced vanilla latte. Thought it suited your whole… aesthetic.”

You don’t even know what that means, but you take a sip anyway—only to hate how good it actually is.

“Okay, so, ideas.” You pull out your notebook, flipping to a blank page. “Our project is about—”

“Fashion in film,” Hyunjae finishes, already typing something on his laptop. “I was thinking we could do a visual breakdown of how costume design affects storytelling. Maybe pick a few iconic films and analyze the fashion choices, how they reflect character arcs, enhance themes, or even influence trends in the real world.”

You tap your pen against your notebook, considering. “That’s actually… not terrible.” He snorts, but you ignore him. “We could break it down by genre. Like, how historical dramas prioritize period accuracy, while sci-fi leans into experimental designs that shape future trends. Or how rom-coms use wardrobe shifts to mirror character development.”

“Exactly,” he nods, spinning his laptop to face you. “Like, you know, the whole power-dressing thing in The Devil Wears Prada versus the whole ‘I have nothing to lose so I dress like this’ vibe in Fight Club. Or how movies like La La Land and Black Swan go crazy with colors to make you feel things.”

You pause.

Okay. That was… actually good.

Which is annoying.

Because now you have to pretend like you weren’t expecting him to be completely useless.

“Wow,” you say, setting down your pen. “You actually know some stuff.”

Hyunjae snorts. “I can be smart, you know.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Maybe, just maybe, this project won’t be a total disaster.

“Yeah, yeah.” You wave him off. “Anyway, we should split the workload—”

“I’ll handle the video editing,” he says immediately, leaning back in his chair.

You nod slowly. “Right. And I’ll do the research and visuals. We’ll meet in the middle for scriptwriting and actual filming.”

For a moment, it almost feels… civil.

And then Hyunjae grins.

“So, should we use Google Docs or Notion?”

You freeze.

Then, a second later— “No.” Your head snaps up way too fast, like you’ve just been personally attacked.

His brows furrow. “No…?”

“I am not using Notion.”

Hyunjae gasps dramatically, hand flying to his chest as if you just said something personally offensive. “You’re one of those Google Docs purists?” As he watches as you pull up Google Docs, his expression somewhere between annoyance and disbelief. “I don’t get it. You seem like a Notion girl.”

You shrug, typing out the project title. “I am.”

He blinks. “Then?”

“I like Notion for planning and cute notes whatsoever, but Google Docs is easier to read. It’s straightforward, no weird sidebars or widgets. Just a blank page, like actual paper.”

Hyunjae scoffs. “So you’re saying you like being boring.”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m saying I like being efficient.”

He leans back, swirling his straw in his drink. “Right. Efficient. That’s definitely the word.”

You glare at him before pointedly typing Google Docs into the document.

Hyunjae mutters something under his breath, but ultimately, he doesn’t argue.

One battle won.

Scoreboard, y/n 1: hyunjae 0.

But there's many more to go.

Okay. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as hard as you expected. Maybe Hyunjae wasn’t the absolute worst partner in existence. Maybe you can get through this project smoothly. Maybe—

“Absolutely not.”

You blink at him, fingers hovering over your laptop keyboard. “What?” Like literally. What is the problem now.

Hyunjae gestures vaguely at the screen, looking disgusted. “That font. Change it.”

You glance at the document. “What’s wrong with Times New Roman?”

He scoffs. “Everything?”

Your eye twitches. “It’s literally the default font for a reason.”

“Yeah, for people who have no taste.”

You stare at him, half-expecting him to say he’s joking. He does not. “Okay, design boy, what do you suggest?”

“Literally anything else,” he says. “Arial, Garamond—hell, even Verdana.”

You gasp. “Verdana is hideous.”

“Times New Roman is worse.”

“No, it’s classic.”

“It’s depressing.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Do you argue with your professors about this when they make you submit papers in times new roman?”

He leans back with a smirk. “No, because I actually care about my grades.”

You scoff, fingers tightening on the laptop as you are quite literally at the brink of breaking it. He’s insufferable. Just because he’s stupidly attractive doesn’t mean he gets to be stupidly annoying.

“Fine,” you huff. “We’ll compromise.”

Hyunjae raises an eyebrow. “Compromise?”

You swiftly change the font to Comic Sans. Maybe it was to piss him off, maybe it wasn't.

His eyes widen in horror. “WHAT—”

“That’s what you get,” you say sweetly, closing your laptop.

You half expect him to argue more, but instead, he just shakes his head with a sigh. “This is going to be a nightmare.”

Maybe this project was going to be frustrating. Maybe you were going to bicker over every minor, ridiculous detail. Maybe Hyunjae was going to test every ounce of your patience until you actually lost it.

But, as you watch the slight furrow of his brows while he works, the way he chews on his lip in concentration, which was admittedly kind of cute, you have a horrifying realization.

This might actually be… kind of fun.

But to burst your own bubble, it was still dominantly irritating to work with him. Over the past few weeks, the afternoon meetings paired with your ice vanilla lattes and horrendous workload, the only progress that seemed evident was the tiny, stupid disagreements you both have.

seriously, it seems like he finds every reason to fight with you, whether it is the theme because he wants something more “pop” to how long a study break should be.

And honestly? It’s ridiculous. Because who in their right mind thinks neon yellow text on a black background is a good idea?

“It’s eye-catching,” Hyunjae argues, arms crossed as he leans back in his chair like he’s already won.

“It’s an assault on the eyes,” you counter, clicking aggressively on the theme settings. “We are not making our project look like a nightclub flyer and if i need to remind you our target audience is not rave and club addicts who goes weekly.”

He scoffs. “Fine. What do you suggest, then? Something painfully minimalist? Let me guess, black serif font on a white background, very aesthetic, very clean, very boring.”

Your eye twitches. “It’s called being readable, you menace. It works the best when its a written project.

It goes on like this. Every. Single. Time.

The study break argument? A disaster.

“Twenty minutes is enough,” you say, stretching your arms over your head. “Any longer, and we’ll lose momentum.”

Hyunjae slams his laptop shut, scandalized. “Are you kidding? You barely have time to breathe in twenty minutes. Thirty is the bare minimum for brain recovery.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you need a whole vacation to recover from looking at a Google Doc?”

“At least I know how to pace myself instead of burning out like a washed-up child star on their third comeback attempt.”

And don’t even start on the seating arrangements.

““Why do you always take the chair facing the window?” Hyunjae complains, flopping into his usual seat with an exaggerated sigh, like sitting anywhere else is a personal injustice.

You barely glance up from your laptop as you take a sip of your iced latte. “Because I like the natural lighting.”

“I like the natural lighting,” he mimics, rolling his eyes. “You just don’t want me to have it.” God you need to get a self care day after interacting with this manchild because you are gonna lose it.

“Yes, Hyunjae,” you deadpan. “Stealing sunlight from you is my ultimate goal in life.”

Despite all the minor battles, time keeps slipping away. At first, it’s a few pushed-back deadlines. Then, it’s the realization that you have way more left to do than you thought. And before you know it—

Panic sets in.

You stare at your shared Google Doc, scrolling through the half-finished outline with growing dread. “Tell me why we’ve spent weeks arguing over fonts and break times instead of actually finishing this project?”

Hyunjae groans, rubbing his hands over his face. “Because somebody refuses to admit they’re wrong.”

“You are literally the problem—”

“We don’t have time for this,” he cuts in, suddenly serious. “We need to lock in, or we’re screwed.”

You exhale sharply, pressing your fingers to your temples, willing away the stress headache that’s been brewing for the past hour. “Okay. Then we need to meet more often. We’re running out of time.”

Hyunjae groans, leaning back in his chair like the weight of the world just dropped onto his shoulders. “More often? We already see each other, like, every other day. Any more and we might as well get friendship bracelets.” He pauses and leans back, thinking. Then, he looks at you, a little hesitant. “Maybe… we do a late-night session? At my place.”

You blink, processing his words a second too late. “Your place?”

Hyunjae shrugs, leaning back into his chair like this is the most casual suggestion to give to a girl you supposedly “hate” in the world. “Unless you want to host.”

You hesitate for a lot of reasons considering your apartment is… not exactly in the best state right now. Fabric scraps from your last project are still draped over the couch, your desk is a graveyard of half-finished sketches, and you’re pretty sure there’s at least one coffee cup on your nightstand that’s been there long enough to be considered a disease.

The second and other reason is studying together in public was one thing, but in his space? Late at night? That feels dangerously close to… something else.

But then you look at the looming deadline.

Ugh. Fine.

“Your place it is,” you say, stuffing your laptop into your bag with a dramatic sigh. “But if you try to make me use Notion again, I’m leaving. And I’m taking all the good ideas with me.”

Hyunjae grins, leaning back in his chair like he’s already won. “No promises. But if you mysteriously find a Notion link in your inbox later, just know it wasn’t me.”

If you had told yourself three months ago that you’d be standing in front of Lee Hyunjae’s door, waiting for him to open it, all for the sake of your academics, you would have literally lost your mind.

But here you are, and you have to admit you’re really nervous. You barely ever go over to people’s houses, let alone a guys, and in this case, he’s actually a really cute guy.

The door swings open, and there stands Hyunjae, leaning against the frame with a lazy smirk. His hair is slightly tousled, like he’s just run his hands through it, and he’s dressed in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, far from his usual put-together look. Can’t say you hate it though.

“Took you long enough,” he says, stepping aside to let you in.

You roll your eyes, brushing past him. “Maybe if you actually responded to texts on time, I wouldn’t have had to wait outside like a lost child.” As your eye scan his surprisingly neat apartment. You expected something closer to a frat house disaster, but everything is in its place, and it even smells nice.

Hyunjae flops onto the couch, stretching his arms over his head before reaching for his laptop. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

You drop your bag onto the floor and sit cross-legged on the other end of the couch maintaining your distance, opening your own laptop. “For once, we actually need to focus. We’ve spent way too much time arguing over dumb things and it was getting ridiculous.”

Hyunjae snorts. “First of all, those were very necessary discussions. Second, you’re acting like we only argued and got nothing done.”

You deadpan at him. “We argued for twenty minutes about what font to use.”

“And? That was an important decision,” he says, typing something on his screen. “You wanted Arial. Arial is boring. Arial is the ‘I give up’ of fonts.”

You groan, already feeling a headache forming. “Not this again.” You were not in the mood for another disagreement.

But to your surprise, he doesn’t push it further. Instead, he nods toward your laptop. “Come on, let’s actually work.”

And you do. For the first time since this project started, you both actually find a rhythm that works. The usual petty bickering is still there, but it’s more playful than frustrating. You throw ideas back and forth, clean up your outline, and finally get around to finishing the visual breakdown you had been avoiding. You even caught yourself smiling at something he said, but hopefully he didn’t catch that.

At some point, exhaustion starts creeping in. You rest your head against the table for just a second, letting your eyes flutter shut. You tell yourself it’s just a quick break, but the warmth of the room and the quiet hum of Hyunjae typing make it tempting to just stay there.

Before you can drift off completely, you feel something soft brushing against your arm. You blink your eyes open to see Hyunjae draping his hoodie over you, his expression unreadable as he focuses on his screen like he didn’t just do something weirdly thoughtful.

“You looked like you were about to pass out,” he says casually, still typing. “And I don’t need you blaming me if you wake up with a stiff neck.”

You lift your head slightly, glancing down at the hoodie before looking at him. “Didn’t take you for the considerate type,” you murmur, fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of the sleeve.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, not looking at you. “Try not to make a big deal out of it.”

You hum in response, but your mind lingers on it longer than it probably should. It’s weird, Hyunjae doesn’t exactly scream thoughtful. He’s annoying, he’s stubborn, he argues with you over the dumbest things. But then he does stuff like this, offering you his hoodie without hesitation, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You shake off the thought and tug the hoodie closer around you, pretending it’s just because you’re cold and not because it’s weirdly comforting.

While you’re deep in thought, what you don’t know is that Hyunjae is also having a minor crisis of his own.

He hadn’t even thought twice when he gave you his hoodie, just saw you looking exhausted and curled up against the table and figured you might be cold. But now that you’re actually wearing it, tugging it closer like it belongs to you, he kind of wants to rip it off and pretend it never happened.

It’s distracting. You’re distracting. Which is insane, because you’ve spent the past few weeks arguing over fonts and study breaks and the ethics of using Google Docs over Notion. He should not be finding this cute.

He tries to focus on his laptop, he really does, but his eyes keep darting back to you like they have a mind of their own. You’re absentmindedly doodling in the margins of your notes, completely in your own world, and for some reason, it’s stupidly adorable. Your lips are pursed in concentration, your brows furrowing just the tiniest bit, and oh god, why is that kind of cute?

And then there’s the hoodie, his hoodie, draped over you like it belongs there. You tug the sleeves over your fingers, sinking further into the fabric, completely unaware that you’re wearing something of his, and wow okay his brain is short-circuiting. His ears feel hot. His heartbeat is doing something weird.

No. No no no. This is just sleep deprivation. A normal, logical reaction to being up too late. Nothing else.

…Right?

The past few days had been surprisingly… peaceful. Ever since that night, working with Hyunjae had become way easier. The usual back-and-forth was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp. You had actual conversations. You laughed a little more. And dare you say it, you almost started looking forward to your meetings. Almost.

Now, with the final touches of your project coming together, there’s a weird sort of peace. A calm before the storm. But, of course, nothing ever stays peaceful for long.

Because the moment you step onto campus, you see him. And her. Whoever the hell she is.

Hyunjae is leaning against a pillar outside the lecture hall, talking to some girl. You don’t recognize her, but that’s not the point. The point is the way he’s looking at her, relaxed, smiling, like she just told the funniest joke in the world. And worse? He’s actually being nice. No smug teasing, no exasperated sighs, just effortless conversation, like he’s known her forever.

Your stomach does something weird.

Since when did he have that kind of smile? The kind that looks straight out of a cheesy romance movie, all soft and easy, like he doesn’t have a single sarcastic bone in his body? Since when was he capable of tilting his head so attentively, like he actually cared about what someone was saying?

And why do you feel like bursting right now. Oh god.

You shouldn’t care. You don’t care. But for some reason, you suddenly can’t stop thinking about how he never acted like that with you. Not at the beginning, anyway. Why did it take weeks of bickering and late-night study sessions for him to finally treat you like a normal person? Why was it so easy for him to be like this with her?

As your head gets even more clouded, you had to snap yourself out of it.

What are you even doing? Why does this even matter?

You don’t care. You don’t.

“Hey.”

Your entire body tenses.

Of course he chooses now to walk up to you, looking completely unbothered, hands shoved into his pockets like he didn’t just turn your entire morning upside down. You school your face into something more civil, something that doesn’t scream I just had a crisis over you talking to some girl.

“Hey,” you say, forcing a casual tone.

Hyunjae eyes you, then tilts his head. “Why do you look pissed?”

You blink. “I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

He shrugs. “If you say so.”

There’s nothing mocking in his tone, no teasing glint in his eyes, just him being his usual self. And for some reason, that annoys you more. Because why wouldn’t he be unbothered? It’s not like anything is different for him.

You let out a slow breath, trying to shake whatever this is. “We’re finishing up the last project details today, right?”

“Yeah.” He stretches his arms over his head, then lets them drop back down. “Same time, same place.”

“Cool.”

He nods, seemingly waiting for you to say something else, but you don’t. Because what else is there to say? Hey, next time, can you not turn on the whole charming act for someone that isn’t me?

Yeah. No. You actually sound crazy.

Hyunjae blinks at you, then gestures toward the lecture hall. “Well, let’s go before someone takes our seats.”

You nod, falling into step beside him, and you try, really try, to ignore the way his presence makes your chest feel weirdly heavy.

You know he noticed how awkward you are right now, you aren’t exactly known as the best person in the world to keep a face.

Hyunjae tilts his head, eyeing you with that infuriatingly amused expression, like he’s trying to figure out what your problem is but also enjoying the fact that you clearly have one. You can tell he’s holding back a smirk, which only makes you more irritated.

“What’s up with you?” he finally asks, nudging your arm lightly as he adjusts his bag, his tone almost teasing but with a hint of curiosity.

“Nothing,” you say way too fast. You clear your throat and force out a more even, totally normal response. “Nothing. Just… surprised you can actually hold a normal conversation without annoying someone to death.”

He snorts. “Didn’t know you cared so much about my social skills.”

You roll your eyes, clutching your notebook tighter. “I don’t. It was just… new information.”

“Right.” He stretches the word out, clearly unconvinced. His lips twitch like he wants to push further, but after a moment, he just shrugs. “Well, if you’re done analyzing me, we have a presentation to finalize.”

And just like that, the moment passes. He starts walking, fully expecting you to follow. You hesitate, staring after him, feeling strangely off-balance.

Because if there’s one thing you do know, it’s that you’re not analyzing him. That would imply detachment, logic, something rational.

And there is absolutely no logical reason for the way your stomach just did a full-on gymnastics routine.

Hyunjae isn’t stupid. He knows when something’s off, and right now, you’re practically radiating something, annoyance? Frustration? He can’t tell. But it’s there, sitting between you like an invisible wall.

You’re avoiding his eyes, fidgeting in a way that isn’t normal for you. Usually, when you’re irritated with him, you let him know. A sarcastic remark, an exaggerated eye roll, a playful shove. Something. But this? This is different.

His mind races through the last few minutes, trying to pinpoint what could’ve set you off. Was it the girl he was talking to? That wouldn’t make sense. You don’t care about things like that. Right?

But then again, you’ve never looked at him like this before. Like you’re trying not to look at him at all.

That realization makes his stomach twist in a way he doesn’t understand. And he is not a fan of this feeling.

The day drags on, but you can’t seem to shake it off. No matter how hard you try to focus, your mind keeps circling back to the same stupid scene. Over and over again, like a broken record.

Hyunjae leaning against that pillar. That effortless smile. The way he looked at her, like she was the most interesting person in the world. God who is she.

It’s ridiculous. You don’t care. You shouldn’t care. And yet, every time the image flashes in your mind, something inside you twists uncomfortably.

Even during class, your pen barely moves across the page. Instead of taking notes, you find yourself aggressively scribbling in the margins, only to scratch them out a second later. The frustration bubbles under your skin, refusing to settle.

By the time the afternoon rolls around, you’re officially over it. You just need to get through the rest of the day without thinking about Hyunjae or his stupid soft smile or how warm he looked talking to her.

Easier said than done. Considering his face lighting up to bring you for another afternoon study hangout.

But you were done with today. The project was basically finished, well kind of. All that was left was overlooking spelling mistakes and formatting, and that was something you could easily do on your own. No more meetings, no more late-night brainstorming, no more Hyunjae.

So when he lights up and swings his bag over his shoulder, clearly about to suggest another study hangout, you shut it down before he even gets the chance.

“Nah, I’m good,” you say, shoving your notebook into your bag as if your in a rush for a life and death appointment.

Hyunjae blinks. “Huh?”

“I said I’m good. I don’t need help fixing typos.”

His face scrunches up in confusion. “Since when do you turn down free labor?”

You roll your eyes, standing up. “Since now.”

He tilts his head, studying you like you’re a puzzle missing a few pieces. “Okay, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, no. Try again.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “Why do you care?”

Hyunjae scoffs. “Because you’re acting weird.”

“Well, maybe I just don’t feel like hanging out today.”

“Since when do you not feel like—” He stops, narrowing his eyes. “Wait. Is this about earlier?”

Your stomach flips, and you immediately scoff. “What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

A slow, knowing smirk tugs at his lips. “Oh my god. It is.”

“No, it’s not.”

He steps closer, all amused and too smug for his own good. “You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You’re totally mad.”

“Hyunjae—”

His grin widens. “You’re jealous.”

Your eye twitches. “I am not jealous.”

He leans in slightly, voice dropping into something almost teasing. “You so are.”

That does it.

“Hyunjae,” you hiss, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Not everything is about you. Maybe I’m just exhausted from spending weeks bickering with you over the stupidest things. Oh, I don’t know, like fonts and sentence structure and maybe, just maybe, I would like one single day where I don’t have to deal with your dumb smug face.”

Hyunjae raises an eyebrow, clearly amused, but you’re too annoyed to care. You huff, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder.

“And, by the way, since I apparently have to explain myself to you, I already have plans today,” you add, voice sharp.

His smirk falters just slightly. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. “I’m catching up with Eric. Haven’t seen him in a while.”

It’s such an offhanded statement, so casual, so harmless. At least, that’s how you mean it. But the moment the words leave your mouth, Hyunjae’s entire demeanor shifts. It’s subtle, barely even noticeable if you weren’t standing this close. His jaw ticks, and there’s something unreadable in his eyes before he blinks it away, schooling his face into something neutral.

“That so?” he says, voice carefully even.

You nod, still feeling stubborn. “Yep.”

For a second, he doesn’t say anything. He just watches you, his expression unreadable. And then, with a small scoff, he steps back, running a hand through his hair.

“Well,” he says, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t let me keep you.”

It’s weird. The sudden shift in his energy. The way his usual teasing lilt is gone, replaced with something else, something off. You don’t know why it bothers you. You don’t know why you feel like you just touched a nerve without meaning to.

But before you can figure it out, Hyunjae slings his bag over his shoulder and turns on his heel, walking off without another word.

Fuck. Whatever.

“So, are you gonna tell me what’s up with you, or do I have to guess?”

You blink, straw still in your mouth, cheeks slightly puffed from sipping your drink. “Huh?”

Eric sighs, shaking his head with an exaggerated amount of disappointment. “Tragic. You drag me out here, barely touch your coffee, and stare into space like you’re in a movie. Should I start playing those really sad editing audios? Is this my cue?”

You huff, sinking further into your seat. “I’m not acting like anything.”

“You so are,” he grins, pointing a finger at you. “You’ve been acting all mopey since we sat down. Which, honestly? Rude. I came all this way to bless you with my presence, and yet, your brain is off somewhere else.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “It’s not like that.”

“Ohhh, it’s exactly like that.” Eric leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “What, Hyunjae ghosted you or something?”

Your cheeks puff up again, this time in annoyance. “No?”

Eric raises a brow. “Interesting. So this is about him.”

Your face immediately drops, and Eric cackles. “Busted,” he sings.

You groan, dramatically flopping your head onto the table. “I hate you.”

“Aw, I love you too, bestie,” he coos, reaching over to pat your head. “But seriously. If he walked through that door right now, would you still be sitting here with me, or would you suddenly remember you had, I don’t know, urgent business across campus?”

You scoff, peeking up at him through your arms. “Please.”

Eric just smirks, wiggling his brows. “Okay. So you would stay?”

“Obviously.”

“You wouldn’t immediately run off to go fight over punctuation marks with him?”

“Eric.”

“You definitely aren’t sad you haven’t seen him in a while?”

Your lips purse, cheeks puffing up again, and Eric lets out a victorious laugh.

“Yeah, okay,” he grins. “You don’t care at all.”

To your luck or maybe your absolute misfortune, Hyunjae actually walks in.

You know it’s him before you even look. It’s in the way Eric’s gaze flicks over your shoulder, the way his smirk sharpens like he just won the lottery. And your face? Oh you look like you wanted to slap and run eric right now.

“Ooooh,” he whispers, dragging out the sound like a villain about to watch chaos unfold. “Look who it is.”

You freeze, gripping your cup just a little too tightly. Slowly, you turn your head, and yep. There he is, stepping into the cafe like he owns the place, running a hand through his hair as he scans the menu. He looks good. Annoyingly good. And you hate that that’s your first thought.

Eric, of course, is eating this up. “Wow. What are the odds? Actually, scratch that. This is fate.”

You glare at him, but it’s hard to be intimidating when your face is betraying you with a very obvious oh no! expression. “Shut up.”

“Hey, I’m just saying. The universe clearly wants you two to reunite.”

The worst part? Hyunjae hasn’t even noticed you yet. He’s too busy ordering his coffee, looking way too relaxed while you sit there overthinking every little thing.

Eric leans in, voice hushed but mischievous. “Okay, so what’s the plan? Ignore him? Be cool? Run away dramatically?”

You groan, sinking lower into your seat. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Oh, so you’re just gonna sit there and stew in your feelings?”

“I don’t have feelings.”

Eric raises a brow. “Mhm. Tell that to your face.”

Before you can argue, the inevitable happens, Hyunjae turns, coffee in hand, eyes scanning the café. Then, his gaze lands on you.

And just like that, your heart does a very stupid, very unnecessary flip.

But his heart? Oh, he wanted to be an idiot about this.

Because the moment his eyes locked onto you, sitting there with Eric of all people, something in his chest twisted in a way he didn’t like.

Hyunjae wasn’t jealous. That would be ridiculous. That would mean he cared, and obviously, he didn’t. You were just his project partner. A temporary coworker in the academic hellscape. So what if he hadn’t seen you in a while? So what if you’d been avoiding him? So what if you were sitting there, so comfortable with another man's presence and here he thought he was special before,even worse you were looking all relaxed and content without him?

Whatever.

He forces himself to walk over, keeping his expression neutral, like he hadn’t just spent the last few days overthinking every conversation you’d had.

“Wow,” he says as he reaches your table, setting his cup down with an easy smirk. “This is what you’ve been so busy with?”

You blink up at him, and for a split second, something unreadable flashes across your face. But it’s gone as fast as it came, replaced by an unimpressed stare. “And this is what you interrupted my day for?”

Eric hums, stirring his drink. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just an innocent bystander in whatever this is.”

Hyunjae ignores him, his eyes staying on you. “So, what? You’re replacing me already?”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “As if you were irreplaceable in the first place.”

His smirk falters, but he masks it quickly. “Harsh.”

“Honest.”

For some reason, that word stings more than it should.

Hyunjae clicks his tongue, scanning your expression. “Well, that’s a shame.”

You narrow your eyes. “What is?”

He shrugs, way too casual. “I was going to ask if you wanted to do one final check on the project before we submit it, but if you’re too busy…”

Your lips part, and for a second, you actually look like you’re considering it. But then, you huff. “We already double checked everything.”

“Triple checking never hurts.” He says with hope.

Eric snickers. “Dude, you just want an excuse to hang out with her.”

Hyunjae glares at him. “You are absolutely not part of this conversation.”

You roll your eyes. “Nice try. I can proofread on my own.”

He sighs, dramatic and put-upon. “Okay, fine. But if you find a mistake—”

“I won’t.”

“you owe me coffee.”

Your jaw drops. “How does that even make sense?”

“It just does.” He smirks, already backing away. “See you soon, partner.”

And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you with a very amused Eric and a feeling in your chest you really don’t want to acknowledge.

Okay, so you caved in. But so what?

That doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like you wanted to see Hyunjae again. It was just… convenience. Yeah, convenience. You figured it’d be easier to do one last review in person instead of sending a bunch of messages back and forth. That’s all.

But now, here you are, in Hyunjae’s apartment, because of course you caved at the last minute, and of course, it’s late at night.

“This feels suspiciously like a setup,” you mutter, dropping your bag onto the floor and taking your steps inside his apartment.

Hyunjae doesn’t react right away, his attention flickering between his laptop and his phone, like he’s only half-listening. His hair is still damp from a shower, a few strands falling over his forehead, and the sleeves of his hoodie are pushed up just enough to show the veins in his forearms. It’s annoying how effortlessly put-together he looks, especially this late at night.

“You always think I have some ulterior motive,” he says, finally glancing at you with an amused tilt of his head.

You huff, crossing your arms. “Because you always do.”

His lips twitch, but he just leans back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head like he has all the time in the world. “If you’re so suspicious, why are you here?”

You scoff, tilting your chin up slightly. “Because someone has to make sure the final report isn’t a disaster.” In your defense you weren’t lying, you just weren't saying the whole truth.

Hyunjae hums, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “Uh-huh. So you came all the way here, late at night, just for a little report check-up?” His tone is dripping with amusement, and the way he’s watching you, like he’s caught onto something you don’t want him to and it makes your stomach twist.

You huff, flipping open your laptop with more force than necessary. “Yes. That’s exactly why I’m here.” You keep your eyes locked on the screen, determined to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, your ears, your checks, at this point it’s your whole face.

He lets out a low chuckle, and you know he’s grinning without even looking. “You sure? Because you’ve been avoiding me all week, and now, suddenly, here you are. At my place. At night.”

You clear your throat, fingers typing nonsense just to look busy. “It’s called being responsible.”

Hyunjae tilts his head. “Mmm. Sounds like an excuse.”

Your fingers falter over the keyboard. You finally glance up at him, only to regret it instantly. He’s smirking, fully enjoying the way you’re scrambling to hold your ground.

“It’s not,” you stutter, inwardly cursing yourself for the slight crack in your voice.

Hyunjae leans closer, just enough to make your breath hitch. “If you say so,” he murmurs, eyes flickering over your face like he’s waiting for you to slip up.

You swallow hard and look away, pressing your lips together. You will not let him win.

“Can we just…” You gesture toward the screen, trying to regain some composure. “Focus?”

He chuckles but finally leans back, stretching like he has all the time in the world. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you pretend a little longer.”

You glare at him, but the rapid beating of your heart betrays you.

Hours of pure awkward silence passes by. Well at least one your end it was.

Hyunjae pushes his laptop aside with a sigh, stretching his arms over his head. “Alright, I’m starving. Let’s take a break.”

You don’t argue, closing your own laptop with a relieved sigh. Your brain feels fried from staring at the screen for so long.

“I could order something,” you mumble, reaching for your phone.

Hyunjae tuts, snatching it from your hands before you can even unlock it. “No need for that. I’ll cook.”

You blink. “You cook?”

He raises an eyebrow. “What, you think I survive off instant ramen and convenience store snacks?”

“…Yes.”

Hyunjae scoffs, pushing himself up from his chair. “Wow. No faith in me at all.”

You shrug, following him toward the kitchen. “I’m just saying, I’ve never seen you do anything remotely domestic.”

“Well, prepare to be amazed,” he says, rolling up his sleeves like he’s about to perform a miracle.

You rest your arms on the counter, suddenly feeling the weight of exhaustion settle into your bones. Now that you’ve stopped working, it’s like your body finally realizes just how drained you are. You don’t have the energy to tease him anymore, so instead, you just watch as he moves around the kitchen with surprising ease.

Hyunjae notices. He doesn’t say anything at first, just glances at you between chopping and stirring, his usual smirk replaced with something quieter. Then, without a word, he grabs a glass, fills it with water, and sets it in front of you.

“Drink,” he says simply.

You blink up at him, but there’s no teasing in his voice, no smug expression like he’s waiting for you to argue. Just an easy kind of care.

You sigh, wrapping your fingers around the glass. “Bossy.”

“Hydrated,” he corrects.

A small smile tugs at your lips despite your exhaustion. It’s nice, no bickering, no arguing. Just the sound of something sizzling on the stove and the occasional clink of utensils as Hyunjae moves around the kitchen.

At some point, he nudges a chair out with his foot. “Sit before you pass out on my counter.”

You don’t even protest, just sink into the chair with another sigh. He glances at you again, shaking his head before reaching for something in the cabinet.

“You like eggs, right?”

You hum in response, already half-lost in the warmth of the kitchen and the unexpected comfort of just being here.

“Good,” he says, flipping something expertly in the pan. “Then you’re gonna love this.”

You rest your cheek against your palm, watching him move around the kitchen with practiced ease. It’s funny if you think about it, if someone had told you a few months ago that Hyunjae would be cooking for you, you would’ve laughed in their face. But here you are, exhaustion making your limbs heavy, while he stands at the stove, casually making you food like he does it every other day.

And now that you think about it, this isn’t the first time he’s done something like this.

The hoodie he gave you that night when you almost fell asleep at his table. The way he always buys your iced vanilla latte without asking. How he never lets your arguments get too serious, always steering them toward something ridiculous just to get you to roll your eyes instead of actually being mad.

It’s all so subtle, so Hyunjae, that you didn’t even realize it until now.

Your bickering still happens, of course. He still drives you insane with his smug attitude and stubborn opinions. But in between all of that, there are moments like this. Moments where he quietly takes care of you in his own way.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you keep showing up.

“Alright, missy.” Hyunjae sets a plate in front of you, nudging it closer with a satisfied smirk. “Made with my own two hands, so you better appreciate it.”

You blink at the food, then at him. “You act like I should be honored.”

“You should be honored,” he says, grabbing his own plate before sitting across from you. “This is a rare act of service. Usually, people have to beg me for this kind of treatment.”

You snort, but the second you take a bite, you nearly melt into your seat. It’s warm, comforting and exactly what you needed. You don’t say anything, just continue eating, but Hyunjae must catch something in your expression because his smirk softens.

“See?” He props his chin on his hand, watching you in amusement. “I knew you’d like it.”

You’re too tired to argue, so you just hum in response, taking another bite.

Hyunjae, of course, takes this as an opportunity to push his luck. “Wow. No snarky comment? No insults? Who are you and what have you done with the real you?”

You shoot him a half-hearted glare but don’t bother wasting energy on a comeback. He grins, clearly enjoying himself, then reaches over to push your hair out of your face.

Your chewing slows.

“Eat properly,” he says, voice lower than before, before leaning back like nothing just happened.

You stare at him for a moment, then shake your head, deciding you’re too exhausted to process whatever that was. Instead, you let yourself relax, let yourself enjoy this rare, stupidly nice version of Hyunjae.

Just for tonight.

You aren’t sure if the world is against you or not today.

Hyunjae checks the time on his phone before glancing outside, where rain is practically hammering against the windows. “Yeah, no way you’re going home in this.”

You huff, pulling out your own phone to check for any available taxis, only to be met with zero results. “I’ll just wait for it to slow down—”

“It’s not slowing down,” he interrupts, nodding toward the downpour. “You’ll get drenched before you even make it halfway.”

You groan, rubbing your face. You weren’t exactly thrilled about this. Sleeping over at Hyunjae’s place? Hyunjae’s place? The same guy who had spent weeks driving you up the wall?

Hyunjae chuckles, clearly enjoying your frustration way too much. “Relax, it’s not like I’m gonna make you sleep on the floor or something. I’m not that heartless.”

You peek at him through your fingers, skeptical. “Debatable.”

He tuts, stepping closer until he can nudge your shoulder with his own. “Come on, it’s not the worst thing in the world. I have extra blankets, you can steal my bed if you want—”

You snort. “And where would you sleep?”

“I’ll figure it out.” His voice is softer now, less teasing. “Seriously, it’s late. Just get comfortable. You don’t have to act like I’m holding you hostage.”

You sigh, finally dropping your hands. The way he’s watching you. Patient but still a little smug, makes you feel ridiculous for overthinking this so much.

“…Fine,” you mumble, crossing your arms.

Hyunjae’s grin spreads instantly, all cocky and triumphant. “Knew you’d cave. Alright, first things first, do you need clothes? A toothbrush? A bedtime story?”

You glare at him, but he just laughs, already heading toward his dresser. “Seriously, I’ve got extra hoodies, sweatpants, whatever you need.”

You huff but don’t argue. The idea of changing into something more comfortable is tempting.

“Oh, and since we’re stuck here,” he continues, turning back to you with a raised brow, “what do you wanna do? Movie? Cards? Stare at each other awkwardly until we fall asleep?”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small twitch of your lips. “Anything that doesn’t involve your dumb face.”

Hyunjae smirks, tossing a hoodie at you. “Sounds like a you problem.”

Later on, you both settle on watching a movie in his room, sprawled out on his bed while his smart TV plays some random film neither of you really care about. The rain outside hasn’t let up, the steady sounds against the window making the whole atmosphere feel strangely cozy.

Hyunjae, for once, isn’t being insufferable. He’s lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, occasionally making some dumb comment about the movie, but his voice is softer than usual. Less teasing, more comfortable.

You’re curled up with the hoodie he gave you, the fabric warm and soft against your skin. It smells like him, fresh laundry and something subtly familiar you can’t quite place. Not that you’re paying attention to that. Obviously.

A yawn escapes you before you can stop it, and from the corner of your eye, you see Hyunjae glance over.

“Tired?” he asks, voice lower than before.

You shake your head, but your eyelids are definitely getting heavier. “No.”

Hyunjae snorts. “Yeah, okay.” He shifts slightly, adjusting the pillows behind him. “Go to sleep if you want. I won’t judge.”

You hesitate, fingers tightening slightly around the fabric of his hoodie. “It’s just…” You trail off, feeling a little stupid for what you’re about to say.

Hyunjae raises a brow. “Just what?”

You exhale, avoiding his eyes. “It feels weird if I’m the only one sleeping.”

There’s a beat of silence, then a soft chuckle. “Oh? You need me by your side that bad?”

You huff, shoving his arm. “Forget it.”

“No, no, I got it,” he says, still grinning but shifting to get comfortable. “Wouldn’t want you losing sleep because of me.”

The teasing lingers, but then he actually lies down properly, facing you, head propped on his arm. The room is dim, the movie’s soft glow flickering over his face. Now that you’re both lying down, the air feels different, quieter, heavier in a way you can’t name.

Hyunjae studies you for a moment before speaking. “You ever think about how we ended up here?”

You blink. “Where? Your bed?”

He huffs a laugh. “I meant more like… us. From wanting to kill each other over fonts to, well…” He gestures vaguely between you two.

You purse your lips, thinking. “Yeah. It’s weird.”

“Weird how?”

You roll onto your side fully, mirroring his position. “We spent so much time arguing, and now… it’s not so bad. You’re not so bad.” For the first time in your “friendship” you were being honest, transparent.

Hyunjae pretends to clutch his chest. “Wow. A compliment? From you? Do I need to frame this moment?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. A comfortable silence settles between you, the sounds of rain and the low hum of the movie filling the gaps.

And then, quieter, Hyunjae says, “I like this.”

Your breath catches slightly. “Like what?”

“This. When we’re not fighting.”

You don’t know why, but that makes your heart do something weird. You swallow, shifting against the pillow. “Me too,” you admit, voice softer than before.

Hyunjae shifts a little closer, the space between you shrinking until you can feel the warmth radiating off him. He props his head up on his hand, looking at you with that unreadable expression he gets sometimes, like he’s studying you, like he’s trying to figure something out.

He exhales, gaze drifting toward the ceiling for a moment before settling back on you. “You know, I used to be the absolute worst at sleeping early,” he says, absentmindedly reaching for a stray strand of your hair that’s fallen onto his side of the bed. He twirls it between his fingers, barely even noticing he’s doing it.

You glance at him, skeptical. “Used to?”

“Okay, fine. Still am.” He smirks, tugging lightly on the strand before letting it go. “But back in high school, it was bad. I’d stay up until like 4 a.m. doing dumb stuff—watching conspiracy videos, learning magic tricks, trying to see if I could actually teach myself how to juggle.”

You snort. “Juggle?”

“I got pretty good, actually,” he says, defending himself. “I’ll have you know, I could juggle three apples at once. I just had to retire early because one of them exploded all over my bedroom wall.”

You laugh, muffling the sound into your sleeve. “And let me guess, you never cleaned it properly?”

“I tried,” he says, grinning. “But there was this weird stain for months. My mom thought it was some kind of artistic choice.”

The mental image makes you laugh even harder, and for a second, Hyunjae just watches you, lips quirking up in something softer.

There’s a comfortable pause before he speaks again, voice quieter. “What about you? What kind of dumb stuff did you do as a kid?”

You hum, thinking. “I used to give random strangers backstories in my head. Like, if I saw someone waiting at a bus stop, I’d convince myself they were a runaway royal or a secret double agent.”

Hyunjae huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Of course you did.”

But then he just… looks at you.

His amusement fades into something quieter, something softer. His eyes trace over your features like he’s memorizing them, lingering on the curve of your nose, the way your lashes flutter when you blink. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, doesn’t realize how gentle his gaze has become, how his fingers have stilled where they were playing with your hair.

For a moment, it’s like he forgets about everything else. It’s just you.

Hyunjae exhales through his nose, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You know…” He twirls the strand of your hair between his fingers, eyes flickering between it and your face. “You do this thing when you talk about stuff you like.”

You blink. “What thing?”

His smile deepens, almost like he’s debating whether to say it. “You get really into it. Your voice gets all animated, and you start using your hands a lot like you can’t get the words out fast enough.” He pauses, then glances away for a second before adding, “It’s kinda cute.”

Your breath catches. It’s such a simple statement, thrown out so casually, but the way he says it like it’s just a fact, like it’s not even something he has to think about and it makes your heart do something stupid.

You manage to compose yourself, tilting your head with a smirk. “Oh? So you think I’m cute?”

Hyunjae doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he just shrugs, still twirling your hair between his fingers. “Yeah.” His voice is easy, unbothered. “I do.”

Your smirk falters. You were expecting him to get flustered, maybe stumble over his words—but no. He just admitted it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Hyunjae watches your reaction, the corners of his lips twitching. “What, you thought I was gonna take it back?”

You stay silent for a moment, your fingers idly tracing patterns against the blanket. The air between you feels heavier now, charged with something unspoken.

Then, before you can overthink it, you ask, “How do you see me?”

Hyunjae stills. His fingers stop playing with your hair, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t look away, though if anything, his gaze lingers, as if he’s carefully choosing his words.

“What do you mean?” he asks, voice quieter now.

You swallow. “I mean… what do you think of me? Or—” You hesitate, then force it out. “What are we?”

Hyunjae watches you carefully, his usual teasing nowhere to be found. He’s reading the situation, the unspoken tension that’s been lingering between you both for weeks now. Maybe even longer.

He exhales softly, eyes flickering between yours. Then, in a voice quieter than before, he says, “Please tell me I’m not misunderstanding.”

His fingers graze yours on the blanket, deliberate and slow. He shifts even closer, so close you can feel his breath against your skin. His gaze searches yours, waiting, hoping.

Your breath catches.

He’s too close, and you should say something, should make some kind of snarky remark to defuse the tension, but your mind is blank. All you can focus on is the warmth of his touch, the way his eyes flicker down to your lips for just a second before meeting yours again.

You swallow. “You’re not misunderstanding.”

Something shifts in his expression, relief, maybe, or something softer, something you’ve never seen on him before. His hand reaching up slightly against your cheeks, testing the waters. “Good,” he murmurs.

You barely have time to process it before he closes the distance between you. It’s hesitant at first, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away, but when you don’t, when you lean in just the slightest bit, he presses in deeper.

His lips move slowly against yours, careful yet deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment, like he’s been wanting to do this for a while. His hand cradles your jaw, fingers slipping into your hair as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

You feel yourself sinking, warmth spreading through your chest as your fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie. He tastes faintly of the coffee he had earlier, and the way he kisses you, soft but intent, teasing yet undeniably sweet, making your stomach flip.

He exhales through his nose, shifting even closer until there’s no space left between you. One of his hands drops to your waist, fingers pressing lightly against your side as if testing how close he can pull you without scaring you away.

The room feels smaller, quieter, like nothing exists outside of this moment. You let out a small sigh, and the sound makes him hum in approval, his lips parting just slightly against yours. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time, and when he nips lightly at your bottom lip, your grip on his hoodie tightens.

Hyunjae smirks against your lips, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Didn’t take you for the type to melt so easily,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing.

You huff, barely able to compose yourself when he leans in again, stealing another slow, lingering kiss that leaves you breathless.

The morning comes slow and quiet, the soft patter of rain still lingering outside. You’re warm. Warmer than you should be, and it takes a moment to realize why.

Hyunjae is still close, impossibly close, his arm draped loosely over your waist. His breathing is steady, slow, his face relaxed in sleep. At some point in the night, you must have shifted toward him because your head is resting against his chest, and his hoodie smells faintly of coffee and something undeniably him.

For a second, you debate moving. But then he stirs, his arm tightening around you just slightly, like he’s holding onto you even in his sleep. You freeze.

“You’re awake,” his voice is hoarse with sleep, barely above a mumble.

“…No,” you whisper.

Hyunjae huffs out a lazy laugh, his chest vibrating beneath your cheek. He stretches a little but doesn’t pull away, just burrows deeper into the pillow. “Guess that means I don’t have to move either.”

You scoff, shifting slightly. Big mistake. His grip on your waist adjusts, fingers pressing against your side as he tugs you just a little closer.

“You’re comfy,” he murmurs, voice still heavy with sleep.

Your face heats up. “That’s—”

“You can stay like this,” he interrupts, cracking one eye open to look at you. His gaze is soft, the usual teasing glint replaced with something quieter. Something fond.

Your heart stumbles over itself.

“…Fine,” you mumble, hiding your face against his hoodie.

He chuckles again, and just as you’re about to fall back asleep, you feel it. The press of his lips against the top of your head. Soft. Gentle.

You exhale, fingers idly tracing patterns against the fabric of his hoodie. “You know we need to talk about this, right?”

Hyunjae hums, not even opening his eyes. “Talk about what?”

You pull back just enough to give him a look. “Us. This. Whatever this is.”

That finally gets him to open his eyes, lidded with sleep but still playful. He shifts, his hand moving to lazily toy with the hem of your sleeve. “What’s there to talk about?”

You blink. “Seriously?”

He grins, tilting his head slightly. “You kissed me back.”

Your face heats up. “Okay, and?”

“And,” he drags out, tightening his grip just slightly, “that means you’re mine now.”

You stare at him, stunned. “That’s not how it works.”

Hyunjae just smirks. “Too bad. Already decided.”

You groan, burying your face against his chest again, but your lips betray you, curling into a small smile.

Hyunjae hums, running a lazy hand down your back. “Guess I’ll have to be on my best behavior in class from now on. Gotta thank the professor for bringing you to me.”

You lift your head just enough to glare at him. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

He grins. “And yet, here you are.”

Before you can fire back, he steals another kiss, soft, slow, filled with nothing but warmth. You barely have time to process it before laughter bubbles up between you, light and easy, like this was always meant to happen.

Eric was gonna make fun of you, screaming “i told you so” but that doesn’t matter to you anymore as you look at the boy in front of your eyes. Your boy, Hyunjae.

notes: um so this is where i dissapeared to hence why the smau is taking awhile to update hehe but i had a fun time writing this. But to all of you who is reading terms and conditions smau expect more updates from now!! >_<

#lee hyunjae #hyunjae #the boyz #hyunjae fic #tbz #tbz fic #tbz hyunjae #lee jaehyun #hyunjae fluff #hyunjae x reader

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gingergari · 12 days ago

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In the toad peach au. Has peach ever used a double cherry. So that she can spend one day with her true appearance outside of the castle while someone else is the princess?

hi! thanks for sending in an ask! 🩵

double cherries aren’t native to the mushroom kingdom, so she personally had never used them until she visited the sprixie kingdom.

but she can do this without it if toadette or toadiko use the crown instead :^) due to their vow they look just like peach in human form, and to avoid suspicion it isn’t common for toadette and toadiko to both be at peach’s side in public. (avoids questions if one does need to step up plus it gives the opportunity for breaks) if for some reason there needs to be a human peach + toadiko, toadette, and toad peach somewhere at the same time, they would consider it but since the double cherry reflects the original it would probably be tricky in universe to pull off (but maybe not impossible thanks to magic 🔥)

peach just doesn’t spend much time outside the castle for a number of factors

1. toadsworth barred her from leaving castle grounds growing up for safety reasons

2. post debutante she was dealing with the escalating koopa kingdom situation that resulted in her first kidnapping

3. things keep happening all the time

4. she’s a bit of a workaholic 🩵

i tweaked things in the au a bit so now this is just a thing that toads know but are bound to keep secret so she feels safer out in toad company but otherwise is quite nervous whenever she’s outside in her true form

but post mario bros knowing she probably feels more comfortable to step outside the castle more (where your ask may come in)

mario’s a big fan of stealing her away when he can and she’s a big fan of seeing the kingdom up close whenever she’s can so she does her best to make it happen and cherishes each occasion 🩵

#gari’s asks #gari draws #nintendo #smb #princess peach #toad peach au #tayce t #this does have me thinking about the double cherry more #double cherries are likely pretty short lived due to their fragility and also the mental strain it takes on the user #(i mean i imagine their vision is split plus the brain power it takes to coordinate one copy let alone multiple)#but if the copy does manage to hang around then i imagine it’s either easier to control or it starts becoming autonomous #which i then think could be a good point for your ask to happen. maybe idk #i saw the ask yesterday and i was thinking about what situation would everyone need to be present and honestly idk #like post smrpg peach and her human form have to be around at the same time but toadiko and toadette’s presence isn’t mandatory #maybe if mario or luigi started getting suspicious way before peach is ready then maybe that could happen? idk #i did have another scenario i wanted to sketch out for the ask but i forgor 💀 peach eating a honey shroom upon ye #wanted to sort of emphasize that peach is rather tall even as a toad but then apple notes started working against me #her outfit is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ something #but this probably one of the first times peach had met tayce t before #and she insists on having her cater the next banquet or something bc she’s obsessed

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icewindandboringhorror · 1 month ago

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I'm so heavily anti-advertising that all pitches sound goofy silly to me/I can never take them seriously, so I have no idea how I'll manage to to advertise my game even if I do finally finish it soon-ish lol...

#Especially how so much modern media advertising is like... getting people excited about random tropes and stuff like #''Do you love enemies to lovers? Do you love sad stories that make you do a heckin CRY? Do you love big stupid dumbo muffin cake #sinnamon roll babies who are too good for this world? Have you ever wanted to read a blah blach blah" whatever stuff and it's like #... i cannot type that... I couldnt do it.. I couldn't even think of how to do it ghbjhbjh #I am such a literal person... Like I love when an advertisement is just like 'This product works well. Look at it. Buy it if you want. Ok'#You know what makes me want to read a book or watch a show or play a game? Reading a detailed plot synopsis or the full wiki page #for it and then deciding 'yeah I wouldnt mind sitting through seeing the events I just read about happen in more detail' lol #OR aesthetics. since I do often watch things JUST for the set/costume design. Sometimes I will watch stuff literally #just because I saw a picture of a costume in it that looked really cool and I want to sketch costume looks whilst watching #But aside from appearance like... little bullet point break downs of things that are in a story just ... do not do anything to me at all.#And i just hate 'selling' things to begin with. I don't want to have to convince people to like something.. they should just... like it...#LOL.. like.. just be born liking it. just like it automatically please. Dont make me beg to you like a weird little freak. So many commerci #als seem weirdly desperate and manipulative. Like those Truck/Car commercials that will have like a freaking dog crying and #a war vet in a wheelchair with the american flag in the background and a family hugging around a christmas tree or some shint and its #just like oh my GODDD... shut UPP.. you could literally not be MORE blantant about just trying to prey on peoples emotions to build #some sort of fabricated positive association with your product/brand.. begone.. Or brands having their own twitters where they post #~~relatable content~~ as a means of shallow audience endearment GGGRR..... ANYWAY.. hhrgh...................#Maybe that's something I can ask playtesters I guess like.. I feel like I don't know my own audience very well because I am not #much of a media person?? ironically.. Like I do enjoy MAKING media. But I've never been in a fandom. I've never read fanfiction. I've never #spent much time in those spaces. I've just never really had the inclination and don't personally derive much joy out of stuff like that #(since I'm already so focused on my OWN world and projects its like.. hard for me to even find the time and mental energy to expend on #others). Even when I finish a movie or game and really like it.. I just kind of like...move on? and don't really dwell on it much? At most #I will get into the worldbuilding of a piece of media and read the wiki for a while or watch Lore info or critical analysis videos. But I #never really care for or attach to the characters or the plot itself very much. So I feel like.. the way my brain works. I'm just not as #good at approaching things from that angle? Kind of like how if you're a lifelong vegetarian whos never eaten meat - you might #struggle to write an ad for fancy brand of steaks bc you'd be like... idk what meat eaters are even looking for? whats the selling point??#Which I'm not saying that I wouldn't play my own game. i AM definitely the audience for it. But it's more like.. I would play it for my own #very niche specific reasons that I think are different from what MOST people might want to play it for. So I need to somehow #tap into the minds of the Majority who play things for Normal Reasons than pure lore collection or whatever lol.

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pagesofkenna · 11 days ago

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what if i think mormonism is definitely christianity and thats why its bad

👍❓

Sure? Whatever?

I can't tell if you're legitimately looking for my approval or just trying to be witty and cutting. I struggle to believe you actually care what i think.

That post was from two days ago, i had to hunt a bot to find it. How far back are you on my blog? I tag mormon post as '#lds things' so you can block it and never have to deal with the fact that i post that kinda stuff sometimes. Blocking tags is an integrated feature on tumblr now, you dont even need xkit anymore.

#asks #idk like is this a real question that deserves a real answer?#the real answer is thats fine #like no yeah i think i know what you mean even though you included no explanation because i also interact with the world #ok #on a related topic i dont like the current governor of Utah. i think he's a bad person #but thats because i think hes a moral coward who's actively harming the people he previously pretended to want to protect #not because he just happens to identify as a republican #cause like generally i think things are bad for the things they do and not for the category labels they happen to have #does that make sense?#lds things #almost forget lmaooo the irony sorry sorry lol #religion things #not to keep etaing but is the mormon church organization bad because of the things it does? sure maybe!#and thats a much more interesting and productive conversation we could actually have!#but literally the point of that post (2 days ago) was that the argument over whether or not the label applies is flawed from the beginning #because people who care about those labels usually only do so in order to say one is good or one is bad... which IS what youre doing...#i mean i guess i could also read this as saying if we excise all the doctrine of christ out of mormonism it would be... good?#hey friend? hell yeah. im actually all for that (as long as we get to keep the 'love your neighbor' part #that parts actually pretty vital to me personally and doesn't seem like it's technically unique to christiandom)

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mrspiastri · 8 days ago

Text

✩ lights, camera, action! 📸

pairing: lando norris x reader

cw: fluff, annoying reporters, austria 2024

wc: 4.9k words

an: thanks for the req anon, hope u like it! pls excuse any spelling errors i could not be arsed enough to proofread this more than twice :p

“So, they’re just going to be in our house… recording us the entire day?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“And this is happening for a month?”

“Maybe two, depending on how much footage they need.”

A beat of silence.

Lando turned to his girlfriend, watching as she set her Kindle down and looked at him with a sharp glare. All she had wanted was a quiet night in, some light reading before bed, not this conversation.

“So, what do you think?” he asked carefully.

“I think you’ve lost your fucking mind.”

Lando stifled a chuckle, scooting closer despite the warning in her eyes. “It’s not that bad, I promise. They’ll get all your good angles. And if there’s anything you don’t want in, I’ll make sure they cut it out.”

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. The idea of letting a camera crew into their home, her safe space, the one place where she could collapse onto the couch after work without a second thought, was unsettling.

“Look, I’m not going to force you,” Lando said, his voice softer now. “Just think about it. It’s like… our moments together being immortalized.”

She arched her brow, still unconvinced.

“We could even look back on them years later,” he continued, ever the optimist. “Show them to our kids!”

Y/N gave him a long, unimpressed stare.

“Just give me a day or two,” she muttered at last.

“Of course, love.” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before letting the subject drop.

Three days later, Y/N found herself reluctantly agreeing, under strict conditions:

1. No cameras before 9 AM or after 10 PM.

2. No filming arguments or fights (if they happened).

3. No recording private conversations.

The production team had no issue following her rules, and soon enough, cameras and microphones became a regular sight in their living room and kitchen.

To her surprise, it wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. The Drive To Survive crew was respectful, and off-camera, they were actually lovely to talk to.

Not that she’d ever admit it to Lando. She had no interest in hearing an “ I told you so.”

Still, she had to admit, there was something oddly enjoyable about it. The cameras felt natural, capturing the effortless way she and Lando fit together. Their banter. Their energy.

Even the crew enjoyed filming them. Because if there was one thing about Y/N and Lando, it was that they were effortlessly entertaining.

The couple had an air of domesticity around them, which was visible during certain moments, like when Y/N announced she was going grocery shopping.

🪻🪻

She didn’t question it at first.

Lando had followed her around their apartment, slipping on his hoodie and sneakers, acting as if they were about to embark on some thrilling adventure rather than… well, a simple trip to the grocery store. But when he practically rushed out the door behind her, stuffing his hands into his pockets like he was trying to play it cool, she finally turned to him with a raised brow.

"Alright, what’s going on?"

Lando blinked at her, feigning innocence. "What do you mean?"

"You insisted on coming with me," she pointed out as she slid into the passenger seat of her car. "Since when are you so eager to go grocery shopping?"

Lando smirked, leaning back in his seat. "Maybe I just like spending time with you."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a soft laugh. "It’s just shopping, Lando."

"Yes… and?"

She shot him a look, but he only grinned, reaching over to intertwine his fingers with hers as he started the car. She glanced down at their joined hands, warmth flickering in her chest.

Maybe it was just shopping. But to him, time with her, no matter how mundane, was worth tagging along for.

The grocery store was as uneventful as ever, aisles filled with tired parents, students grabbing last-minute essentials, and employees stacking shelves. Y/N navigated the space with practiced ease, mentally ticking off the list in her head.

Lando, on the other hand, was thoroughly entertained by everything.

"You know, people are going to think I’m useless because you’re the one actually shopping," Lando mused, walking beside you with a basket dangling from his arm. A small mic was clipped to his hoodie, and a camera trailed at a respectful distance, catching every moment.

"You are useless," you teased, grabbing a carton of eggs and placing them into the basket.

Lando let out a scandalized gasp, pressing a hand to his chest. "Excuse me? I am an excellent grocery shopper. Watch this."

Before you could stop him, he darted toward a display of snacks, dramatically grabbing a family-sized bag of chips and tossing it into the basket. The camera crew caught it all, no doubt enjoying his antics.

"Wow," you said dryly, watching him grin. "Such a valuable contribution."

"You’re welcome." He leaned in, brushing a kiss to your temple before whispering, "At least pretend I’m helpful, love. My reputation is at stake."

She shook her head, amused. He stayed close beside her, fingers occasionally brushing hers when he pointed out random things, a ridiculous cereal box, a weirdly shaped vegetable, an overpriced snack that made him nearly collapse in shock.

Then, as they rounded the next aisle, something caught her eye.

"No way," Y/N gasped, halting so suddenly that Lando bumped into her.

"What? What happened? Are we in danger?" he asked dramatically, clutching her arm.

She ignored him, grabbing a brightly colored package from the meat fridge. “It’s the spicy chorizo I was looking for! It’s been out of stock for months! Lando, do you know what this means?"

"Uh," he blinked, glancing at the box in her hands. "That some company is trying to get people to buy their products again?"

She huffed. "No, dummy. This means I can finally make those chorizo tapas you love so much."

Lando stared at her, as if processing her words. "Wait. You mean—?"

"Yeah," she said, waving the package at him. "You always say it’s one of your favorites, right? So I’ll make it the way it’s meant to be made, not with those other lame brands.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything. Just looked at her. And then, unexpectedly, he reached for her hand and squeezed it, his thumb running over her knuckles.

"You remembered that?" His voice was quieter now, softer.

She scoffed. "Of course, I did. You never shut up about it."

Lando let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head, but there was something fond in his eyes, something almost touched.

"You’re the best," he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. Right there in the middle of the grocery aisle, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, with an old woman giving them a knowing smile as she passed.

Y/N felt warmth creep up her neck, but she just rolled her eyes. "I know."

Lando grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulder as they continued walking. "See? And you thought I was weird for wanting to tag along."

"You are weird."

"Yeah, but I’m your kind of weird."

She laughed, leaning into his side as they made their way to checkout.

Maybe it was just shopping.

But with Lando, even the ordinary felt like something special.

🪻🪻🪻

The morning sun cast a golden glow over their Monaco apartment, filling the space with soft warmth. The neatly packed bags by the door were a reminder of the plans they’d made, plans Y/N had initially thought were just a fleeting idea when Lando suggested them. But here they were, two years into their relationship, and he was still finding ways to make things special.

Lando stirred beside her, his arm tightening around her waist as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, voice still thick with sleep.

“Happy anniversary, love.”

She smiled, tilting her head slightly to press a kiss to his forehead. “Happy anniversary, Lando.”

He hummed in contentment, pulling her closer. “Can we just stay in bed all day instead?”

Y/N laughed softly, tracing lazy patterns along his back. “As tempting as that sounds, weren’t you the one who planned this whole day trip?”

Lando groaned dramatically, burying his face deeper into the pillow. “Who let me make decisions?”

“You did.”

Another groan.

A small chuckle from the corner of the room made her glance over, where one of the film crew members was adjusting a camera, capturing the intimate yet domestic moment. Lando peeked an eye open and groaned even louder when he saw them.

“Great,” he mumbled. “Now the world gets to see me beg to stay in bed.”

Y/N grinned, pressing a quick kiss to his nose before slipping out from under the covers. “Come on, sleepyhead. We have a road trip to go on.”

By mid-morning, they were driving along the winding coastal roads of the French Riviera, two crew members filming them from the back seat, capturing snippets of their journey. Lando’s hand rested on Y/N’s thigh as he effortlessly steered with the other, the soft hum of music filling the space between them.

She glanced over at him, amusement dancing in her eyes. “So, are you ever going to tell me why you picked Èze?”

Lando smirked, keeping his eyes on the road. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to impress you with my impeccable taste?”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her fondness.

The moment they arrived in Èze, Lando reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers as they wandered through the narrow, cobbled streets. The medieval village, perched high above the Côte d’Azur, was breathtaking, its stone walls adorned with climbing vines, small boutiques tucked into hidden corners, and the salty sea breeze carrying the scent of fresh flowers.

The crew trailed them subtly, capturing the way Lando would lean in every few minutes just to steal a quick kiss, or how his fingers absentmindedly traced patterns against her skin as they stopped to admire the view.

“You do realize people are going to say you’re way too clingy, right?” Y/N teased, nodding toward one of the cameras.

Lando shrugged, unbothered. “Let them.” He turned to the nearest cameraman, grinning. “I am clingy. Make sure you put that in the episode.”

The crew chuckled, but Y/N just shook her head, laughing as Lando pulled her into the nearest café.

Lunch was slow and easy, filled with stolen bites of food, quiet laughter, and the occasional “Look at him being soft” comment from Y/N to the film crew. Lando didn’t seem to care, not when she was there, looking at him like he was her favorite thing in the world.

When dessert arrived, two chocolate soufflés, Lando picked up a spoonful and held it out for her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re going to feed me while they’re filming?”

He smirked. “It’s romantic.”

She rolled her eyes but leaned in anyway, letting him feed her. Lando grinned triumphantly, stealing a bite for himself.

“Put that in the episode, too,” he quipped.

As the afternoon stretched on, they hiked up to the Jardin Exotique, a stunning garden perched at the very top of Èze. The panoramic view of the coastline was nothing short of magical, the kind of scene that made everything else feel small in comparison.

Lando wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“This might be my favorite anniversary so far,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, tilting her head to rest against his. “We’ve only had two.”

“Still. It’s hard to beat.”

A breeze drifted through, ruffling his curls as he held her, their hands fitting together so effortlessly.

Y/N turned in his arms, her gaze soft. “I love you, you know.”

Lando’s eyes searched hers for a moment before he cupped her face, pressing a slow, tender kiss to her lips, one that felt like a promise, like forever.

When they pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, exhaling deeply. “I know,” he whispered. “And I love you more.”

A cough from behind them broke the moment, and one of the crew members hesitated before speaking.

“Uh… that was beautiful,” they admitted. “Can you do it again for a better angle?”

Lando groaned as Y/N burst into laughter.

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, pulling her closer with a mischievous grin. “Guess we have to keep kissing.”

🪻🪻🪻

The second Y/N stepped into the apartment, she knew something was different. It wasn’t just the warmth of the space or the soft glow of the kitchen lights, there was something familiar in the air. A rich, buttery scent, layered with warm spices, the kind that immediately sent a comforting feeling straight to her soul.

She froze mid-step.

That was butter chicken.

Her favorite food.

And there was only one person in this house who would make that for her.

Her heart raced as she set her bag down and rounded the corner into the kitchen, where she found exactly what she hoped to see Lando, standing at the stove, stirring a pot with the kind of focus he usually reserved for a race car. His curls were still damp from a recent shower, his sleeves pushed up as he leaned against the counter, tasting the sauce with an expression of concentration.

He looked up just as she entered, and the slow smile that spread across his face made her stomach flip.

“Hey, love.”

She blinked, still processing. “You’re… home?”

He smirked. “Surprise.”

Her mouth fell open. “But… you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow night?”

“Got an earlier flight.” He turned back to the stove, giving the pot one last stir before lowering the heat. “Figured I’d come back and make your favorite.”

She couldn’t believe it. She had been fully prepared to spend the evening alone, eating something mediocre while scrolling through her phone, missing him. But instead, he was here. Cooking for her.

Y/N didn’t think, she just launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his hoodie as she breathed him in.

Lando laughed as he caught her, arms circling her shoulders as he held her close. “I take it you missed me?”

“Obviously,” she mumbled against his chest. “You were gone for so long.”

“Babe, it was five days.”

“Exactly. Too long.”

He chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to her hair. “Missed you too, love.”

A throat cleared from the corner of the kitchen, and Y/N stiffened slightly before peeking over Lando’s shoulder, only to find one of the crew members, clearly amused.

She groaned, burying her face back into Lando’s chest. “You let them film this?”

“I didn’t let them,” he said, amused. “They just… didn’t leave. Wanted to see you surprised and all.”

One of the crew members laughed. “In our defense, this is adorable.”

Lando grinned, tilting her chin up so she had to look at him. “Come on, love. You don’t want the world to see how obsessed you are with me?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I will shove your face into that butter chicken.”

His smirk widened. “Joke’s on you, I made extra.”

She rolled her eyes but let him pull her closer, letting herself bask in the warmth of his touch, the familiar scent of home.

Later, as they sat at the dining table, Lando watched her take her first bite, waiting for her reaction like a nervous contestant on a cooking show.

Y/N hummed in delight, eyes closing briefly as the flavors hit her tongue. “Oh my God.”

His lips twitched. “Good?”

She opened her eyes, pointing her spoon at him. “Suspiciously good. Since when can you cook like this?”

Lando leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “What, you think I can’t learn things?”

“I just… didn’t know you wanted to.”

He shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Maybe I just wanted to impress my girlfriend.”

Y/N softened, her heart swelling. “You have impressed me. This is amazing.”

“Damn right it is.”

She giggled, shaking her head before taking another bite. “Okay, tell me about Shanghai. How was the race?”

Lando exhaled dramatically, shifting in his seat. “Ugh. Where do I even start? First of all, the strategy was so weird, like, I don’t know what they were thinking. And then, I had this fight with Max for like a hundred laps, and I swear, I thought we were gonna crash at least three times—”

As he continued, his hands animatedly reenacting the on-track battles, Y/N just sat there, watching him, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

She loved seeing him like this, completely in his element, passionate, excited. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about racing, the way his hands moved as if he were still behind the wheel.

“You’re staring,” Lando suddenly noted, smirking.

She blinked, cheeks warming. “No, I’m not.”

“You are.” He leaned in, resting his chin in his hand as he grinned. “You’re in love with me.”

She scoffed, trying (and failing) to hide her smile. “Don’t flatter yourself, Norris.”

“I mean, I did just fly home early and make your favorite food…” He reached across the table, running his fingers gently over her wrist. “Pretty sure that earns me some extra love points.”

Y/N laughed softly, flipping her hand to intertwine their fingers. “You already have all my love points, you idiot.”

He squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Good. I plan on keeping them.”

She shook her head, taking another bite of the butter chicken. “Okay, but seriously, I want to hear the rest. So, you and Max—”

“Shh.” Lando reached over and gently placed a spoonful of rice on her plate, then another, before looking at her expectantly.

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you just—”

“Just shh and eat,” he said, his voice playfully firm. “I know you. If I let you talk too much, you’ll forget to eat, and then you’ll be grumpy later.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but the corners of her lips twitched. “You’re so annoying.”

Lando laughed, leaning over the table to steal a quick kiss. “Yeah, yeah. Now eat up.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but obeyed, feeling impossibly warm inside.

There was something so simple about moments like this, the quiet, easy rhythm of their lives together. The way Lando cared for her in ways that weren’t always grand gestures but in the little things. The way he listened, the way he noticed, the way he just knew her.

Even with cameras in the background, even with the world watching, this was theirs.

And Y/N wouldn’t trade it for anything.

🪻🪻🪻

Las Vegas was supposed to be his night.

Lando sat in the dimly lit hospitality suite, still in his race suit, elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles were white. The weight of the evening pressed down on him, Max had clinched the title, and he had been so close. The points gap wasn’t enormous. If things had gone just slightly differently, if the strategy had been sharper, if he had just pushed a little harder—

He exhaled sharply, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the floor.

The suite was silent, except for the muffled sounds of celebration echoing from outside. His team was still proud, of course. McLaren had fought hard all season. He had fought hard. But second place wasn’t the dream. First was the dream.

And he had lost it.

The quiet creak of the door barely registered in his mind, but the soft footsteps that followed were unmistakable.

Y/N.

She didn’t say anything at first. She simply walked over, standing beside him for a moment, watching him.

Then, she crouched down in front of him, placing a gentle hand on his knee. “Lando.”

His eyes flickered up to hers. He knew the cameras were still rolling somewhere in the room, capturing all of this, his frustration, his exhaustion, the moment where his season had slipped away.

But right now, he didn’t care.

Y/N’s gaze was steady, her touch grounding. Slowly, she reached up, cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over the sharp line of his jaw.

“Talk to me,” she murmured.

Lando exhaled through his nose, his hand coming up to cover hers, pressing it against his skin as if he needed the contact to anchor him.

“I should’ve done more,” he finally muttered.

She frowned. “Lando—”

“No, really,” he cut in, shaking his head. “It was so close. We had the pace. We had the car. I just—” He exhaled roughly, eyes darting away. “I wasn’t good enough.”

Her heart ached at the way he said it, at the way his voice dipped into something raw and self-deprecating.

“Lando,” she said softly but firmly, tilting his face back toward her. “You were more than good enough.”

He let out a dry laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Because you expect perfection from yourself. But look at what you did this season. Look at how hard you fought. You challenged Max. You took it down to the wire when no one thought you could. You made them believe.”

His gaze softened, but she wasn’t finished.

“You think second place makes you less?” she whispered. “It doesn’t. You’re still you, Lando. And I’m so, so proud of you.”

His throat bobbed, his grip on her hand tightening.

“You’re just saying that,” he mumbled.

Y/N shook her head. “I never just say things. You know that.”

He let out a slow breath, his eyes searching hers like he was trying to hold onto her words, trying to let them sink in.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, with a small sigh, he pulled her into his lap, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

She smiled faintly, running her fingers through his curls. He never did well with failure, not because he wasn’t used to it, but because he always carried it too much.

But he wasn’t alone in this.

And as she held him, rocking him slightly, she could feel the tension in his body slowly start to ease.

The crew was still there, capturing every second.

But all Lando cared about was her.

And somehow, for the first time all night, losing didn’t feel quite so devastating.

The press pen after the race was always exhausting, but tonight, it was unbearable.

Lando had lost the championship. He had done every interview with his usual composure, polite, measured, controlled. He had smiled when necessary, congratulated Max, and answered the same four questions in slightly different ways.

But this one?

This one was pushing it.

"Lando, do you think this was your only real shot at a title? Or do you worry you might just not have what it takes?"

The question landed like a slap.

Lando barely blinked. His PR training kicked in immediately, forcing a neutral expression as he nodded, exhaling through his nose.

"Look, we had a great season, and I’m proud of what we achieved. Obviously, it didn’t end the way we wanted, but I know we’ll come back stronger."

It was the kind of answer that was designed to deflect, to keep things from escalating.

The interviewer, however, seemed satisfied with their little dig, moving on to the next driver.

Lando barely had time to process it before he heard a very familiar voice from just beyond the camera crew.

"Are you actually kidding me right now?"

He turned just in time to see Y/N standing off to the side, arms crossed, glaring absolute murder at the interviewer’s back.

The Drive to Survive crew, who had been filming his interview, immediately turned their cameras to her.

"What kind of stupid question was that?" she ranted, clearly not caring that she was being recorded. "‘Do you think you don’t have what it takes?’ Seriously? What kind of journalism school did this guy go to? All he knows is how to rile people up!”

Lando pressed his lips together, trying very, very hard not to laugh.

She was fuming.

"He should be embarrassed," she continued, still glaring. "Lando literally fought for this title until the last possible second, and that’s the best he could come up with? I should go over there right now—"

Lando immediately stepped in, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pulling her into his chest before she could march into the press pen and make headlines. "Alright, alright," he murmured against her hair, biting back a grin. "That’s enough murder threats for one night."

"I wasn’t threatening murder," she huffed, but she didn’t resist when he turned her to face him. "I was just saying that guy deserves to step on fifty Legos barefoot."

"That’s fair," Lando admitted, his grip tightening slightly as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "But I promise, I’m okay."

She searched his face, still frowning slightly. "You shouldn’t have to deal with that."

"I know." He smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But I’d rather deal with bad interviews than have to bail my girlfriend out for punching a reporter."

"No promises," she muttered, but her lips twitched, betraying her frustration.

Lando chuckled, then, because he simply couldn’t help himself, tilted her chin up and kissed her, slow and soft, like he had all the time in the world.

He felt the presence of what seemed to be a thousand cameras on them, but he didn’t care.

Because right now, nothing else mattered.

🪻🪻🪻

The studio setup was familiar by now, the sleek black backdrop, the dramatic lighting, the Drive to Survive crew hovering around with their cameras and microphones. It was the same place where all the serious, intense driver interviews had been filmed throughout the season.

Except today, it wasn’t serious.

Because today, it was Lando and Y/N sitting on the interview couch together, and nothing about them being in the same room was ever serious.

Lando leaned back comfortably, one arm draped over the back of the couch behind Y/N, while she sat cross-legged beside him, her fingers lazily toying with the hem of her dress. The crew had barely started rolling when he shot the camera a mischievous grin.

“So,” he said, adjusting his mic, “are we finally getting our own spin-off? Because I think the world deserves to see the behind-the-scenes of my life with this one.” He nudged Y/N playfully.

She snorted. “Your life? Excuse me? I’m the normal one in this relationship.”

The interviewer chuckled. “Lando, would you agree with that?”

Lando turned to her, looking absolutely scandalized. “Absolutely not. This woman started a verbal fight with a group of fans and nearly went after a reporter on my behalf. The only reason she’s not banned from the paddock is because she’s cute.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “The only reason you weren’t banned from my apartment after losing the title was because you’re cute.”

Lando grinned, nudging her shoulder. “So you admit it? I am cute?”

The crew laughed as Y/N let out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. “Fine. You’re alright.”

“Alright?” He turned to the camera. “You see how she treats me?”

The interviewer, still chuckling, moved on. “Alright, let’s go back to the start of the season. You’ve had a whirlwind year Lando, you were a title contender, and Y/N, you were very vocal throughout. What’s been your favorite moment we’ve captured?”

Y/N hummed, tapping her chin. “Ooh, good question. Probably when Lando lost his mind after that crash with Max.”

The crew laughed knowingly.

Lando groaned, but he was smiling. “Of course that’s your favorite. Not like, I don’t know, any of my actual racing?”

“Oh, right,” she said, grinning. “The whole driving really fast thing. You’re decent at that.”

The interviewer raised a brow. “Just decent?”

Lando turned to Y/N, smirking. “I was in a title fight, you know.”

“Okay, okay, you were great,” she admitted, patting his knee. “There. Happy?”

Lando nodded smugly. “Very.”

The interviewer smiled. “And Lando, what about you? Favorite moment we’ve captured?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “Her reaction after my first win in Miami.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “Wait, really?”

Lando looked at her, his expression softening slightly. “Yeah, I mean I’d never seen you that happy.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And I like making you happy.”

Y/N bit her lip, warmth spreading in her chest. “Okay, that was kinda sweet.”

“I have my moments,” Lando said, leaning in closer. “You should kiss me now.”

The crew laughed, but Y/N just pushed his face away with a laugh. “We’re literally being filmed right now, Norris.”

“Yeah, and?”

The interviewer, still amused, decided to wrap things up. “Alright, last question. If you had to describe this season in one word, what would it be?”

Lando thought for a second, then smirked. “Chaotic.”

Y/N groaned. “Please don’t say—”

“Because of you,” Lando finished, grinning as he dodged the pillow she threw at him.

She sighed, shaking her head with a smile. “Fine. Then my word is entertaining, because watching Lando suffer through PR answers all season has been hilarious.”

Lando turned to the camera, deadpan. “She’s so lucky I love her.”

The crew laughed as Y/N leaned into him, stealing a quick peck on his cheek. “And you’re so lucky I put up with you.”

He smiled, lacing their fingers together. “Best kind of luck, isn’t it?”

And just like that, the season wrapped.

not so sure about this one, but then again when am i ever sure about anything! <3 also i am accepting requests, so feel free to send your prompts or ideas with any of the drivers xoxo

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris requests #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #f1 fluff #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 driver x reader

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kissforyouu · 3 months ago

Text

too much ☆

pairing : sugar daddy!jungkook x fem!reader

genre : smut , fluff

warnings : sugar daddy x sugar baby relationship , implied age gap (reader 20s, jk 30s) , size kink, BIGGGG DDDD (9 inches) , choking , groping , d riding , daddy kink , hickeys , slapping , creampie , panty sniffing , use of petnames (angel, doll, baby, sweetheart) , he talks u thru it , squirting , anal penetration , slight dacryphilia , he gets off to her orgasming , the whole point is he’s too big for her

Today was the day.

You’re so determined to do it. You can do it. Yes, you can.

You were fully prepared, laying on your sugar daddy's expensive ass master bed, wrapped in white lace like a little present for him to unwrap. You looked as if you were a sweet angel fallen into his room filled with all things black and the only thing light being the white walls. And the little parts of you you'd leave hanging around. like makeup, books, clothes, etc. etc.

Too excited, that's what you were. but also nervous, in a way, but you had one goal for tonight. And that was to fit your sugar daddy's cock inside and ride him.

There was a very evident size difference between the two of you. Him being 6ft tall already gave it away, but to add to the list you stood at 5'2ft. He was big in every possible area you could think of, even his cock was massive. fuck. His palm could easily cover your asscheek perfectly without any flesh slipping out. He was a tall successful man with broad shoulders and a muscular body. Thick thighs, big arms—everything you liked in a man.

In addition to that, he was rich. So so rich that he offered you to be his sugar baby. You both met at the mall. So excitedly you went through all the cute dresses you could wear, but definitely not afford. You were still in college. No further explanation needed.

“Ah! this, er, maybe that? don't know!” You were on facetime with your friend, reviewing all the cute dresses you would buy if you had the money. Delusional!

“Nah, nah, nah, the purple one with butterflies would look so good on you!” Your friend squeals, making you squeal back. You might be making too much noise in ths store, but you didn't care.

“You know what would look good with this dress? a cute cardigan and I’d pair this up with some gold hoops."

“Hmm, sounds really pretty”, your friend answered.

“Wish i had the money though...” there was a pout formed on your lips when you look back at the prize tag.

Somehow, your friend ended up having to leave the call due to some work. You end the call, ready to exit the store with absolutely no bags whatsoever. But someone, a man, stops you.

And then he asks you the most out of the blue question ever.

“Want me to buy you that dress?”

That was how it all started. He offered you to become his sugar baby after a full day spent at the mall of him buying you random things. At first, you said no. But he gave you time to decide and also kept sending you gifts over and over. At the end, you agreed. To be fair, you expected him to be the most obscene, rude, horrid man ever. But he's actually...pretty nice. sweet. caring.

Your relationship was 50/50. All you had to do was to take care of that man emotionally, shower him with love which you'll gladly do and also have bomb ass sex with him and he'll pay off all your bills and buy you a shit ton of things in return. The sex wasn't even a topic brought up at first, he didn't need that kind of favour. Just needed a pretty baby to spoil who'll love him in return. The sex just happened on a random friday night. Ever since, you've been getting the best dick you've ever had in your entire life. But there was one problem.

He was too big.

And you were too small.

Sure, the sex was so good and he always made sure to make you cum at least twice each time. It was so good that you couldn't even count the stars rotating around your head each time you orgasmed. But one thing that always managed to bother you...was he satisfied? Because of the obvious size difference, it was hard to fit him inside. Most of the time you’d end up stopping him because it hurt. He won't even be fully in when that happens. Although he always reassured you that he's far more than satisfied with you, you still wouldn't buy it.

But today, you’re going to do it. Gonna make all of him fit inside and give him the orgasm he deserves.

You laid on your back with your eyes fixed on the pattern of the ceiling, feet kicking in the air as you mindlessly waited for him to return home.

But a flirtatious whistle catches you off guard. you immediately rise back up from the bed, eyes darting to the man leaning against the door frame looking at you with a smug look.

“Jungkook!” you squealed.

“Was wondering where you were.” He makes his way towards you.

“I was here.” you mumble.

“I can see...” he snorts.

He lifts you up to sit on the bed by his hands on your waist, then touching your bare stomach, right above the little lace skirt you were wearing.

“For me?” there's a little smug look on his face.

“Who else would it be for?” there’s a sly smirk on your face, batting your lashes as you spoke.

"hah, you little minx" he slaps your cheek with the back of his hand, soon cupping your chin and raising your head up.

"when did you buy this?" his thumb teasingly caresses your lower lip.

"mmm, last week. bought it when i went shopping with mina..."

jungkook snickers, thumb now poking in between your lips. instinctively, you open your mouth for him to easily slide his thumb in between. you let out a muffled giggle, swirling your tongue around his thumb.

you both had wide grins on eachother's faces, fully aware of where this was heading.

you choke on his entire thumb the moment he pushes it all in, his thumb and a part of his hand, stuffing your mouth full. with a little bit of drool slipping out of your mouth, you close your eyes with a hum, but jungkook pulls his hand out.

hurriedly, with a satisfied grin, jungkook begins to unbuckle his belt. but before he could move any further, you were quick enough to stop him, bringing confusion to his face.

"huh?"

"kook, the bed. get on the bed, please." you request.

jungkook raises his eyebrow as your unusual request, but still obeying. he removes his shoes first, then gets on the bed, legs spread and leaning against the headboard as he waits for your next move. you couldn't help but let out a small giggle, excitedly making your way to sit in between his legs.

jungkook, in the other hand, admist his confusion, still couldn't hold back the little smile that threatened to come out. let's just say...this relationship was more than just being a sugar daddy and sugar baby. for him, at least. he'd like to think so.

you push some of your hair back, brushing it along the way and letting it fall down your shoulders as you made yourself comfortable between his legs. pretty, jungkook thinks.

"what're you going to do?" he asks, voice as gentle as ever.

you let out a long hum, fingers struggling to open the zipper of his trousers. he was rock hard, so it was hard to get the zip down. ugh.

jungkook chuckles at your struggles, "want me to take it off for you?"

you shake your head in denial. no. you were gonna do everything tonight with no help from him. with the help of the strong mentality you've set on getting goal done, you manage to successfully pull the zipper off.

you sigh, relieved, but jungkook just laughs at you, almost mockingly.

"what?" you ask.

"nothing, baby, 'just love watching you trying to please me. you're gonna take my cock tonight? hm?" the corner of his lip curves up.

"hmmmm, yes" you're moaning.

jungkook snorts, as if he's not believing you. but he takes off his trousers and boxers, leaving his lower body bare. you're gulping while staring at his erect cock, finally free from the restraints of his white calvein klein boxers. he's already leaking precum.

you lean forward, taking his fat cock in your hands, giving it a few pumps. smearing the precum all over the tip, you use it as lube, pumping his cock again. it barely fits in your hands. you have to use both your hands to hold it.

your ass was up, back slightly arched as you took his cock in your mouth. a muffled moan immediately escapes you, as you slowly slowly take him in deeper in your mouth inch by inch. fuck, was it hard. suddenly getting the urge to cough, you quickly pull him off of your mouth and turn your head around to cough.

"shit, you okay, doll?"

nodding your head in embarrassment, you take hold of his cock again to leave kitten licks all over it. you begin by licking the tip of his cock, swiping your tongue over the small alleyway of his cockhead several times. jungkook hisses at the feeling, eyes droopy. happily, you're licking all over his shaft as if it's your favourite ice cream.

you lick a long stripe up his shaft again, then circling your tongue on the dent in his cockhead. pulling away to spit on his cock, you rub your saliva all over the base with both your hands, then taking his cock in your mouth again.

you sink it down your throat further, slobbering all over his cock, saliva gushing out of your mouth and covering his cock full. his hand instinctively lands on the back of your head, caressing your hair and giving your scalp a subtle massage.

you were so beautiful, he thought.

slowly, you move your head up and down his length, sucking his cock in your mouth. his cock repeatedly hits the back of your throat, causing him to let out a few grunts from here and there. he was surprisingly very vocal during sex. and that just got you even wetter.

"mhm, that's right. taking my cock well, huh? taught you good?" his free hand taps your cheek, feeling his cock against your cheek. your cheeks were hollow, your face felt hot. it was obviously heating up, and so was your pussy. jungkook's hand leaves the back of your head to touch your other cheek, both hands holding up your face now as you took him in your mouth. he grunts, releasing another breath.

you slurp up your saliva on his cock only to spit it back, swiping your tongue on his base. you bob your head on his cock, enjoying all of his moans to the fullest. his thumbs swipe over your cheeks repeatedly, wiping away the small tears that are falling down.

"bet you're soaking right now, hm? fhuck—i can imagine how pretty your panties look right now. drenched and sticking to your pussy? isn't that right, angel?"

you hurry to nod your head, still sucking him in your mouth. fuck, you were so cockdrunk. jungkook knew exactly how to get you riled up. the small touches and caresses, holding your face and hair, he knew you liked that. of course he did. he knew your body like the back of his hand.

"yeah?" he acknowledges your nodding, petting your head. you try to best to flash him a smile, moaning in between. "that's right." his palm lays flat on top of your head again as he pushes your head back down on his cock, his cockhead hitting the back of your throat again.

you're pretty sure it's gonna bruise there.

up! down! up! down! you go, warming his cock up by the insides of your mouth. your right hand is wrapped around the rest of his cock that you can't fit while the other squeezed his balls.

the harder jungkook pushed the more you gagged on his cock. it felt suffocating, but you knew jungkook would never do anything to hurt you. you're whining, clawing his thighs. your eyes rolled to the back of your head followed by a series of cusses coming from jungkook's mouth.

"ohhh, oh, hah, fuck, fuck." his head is thrown back against the headboard of the bed. he lets out a whiny little moan, spilling his load into your mouth. jungkook wipes away your tears once you slip his cock out of your mouth with a pop, reassuring you on how well you did.

"you did so well, angel. took my cock so good." he pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail to raise your head back up. you looked so fucked out just from his dick in your mouth. it was definitely a huge ego boost for him. as much as he loved seeing you pretty and dolled up for him, this look on you has got to be one of his favourites. naked, sweaty and fucked out from his dick. you were so pretty.

"hmm...", he groans, hand sliding up from your left breast to the back of your neck, pulling you on top of him so that you'd be sitting on his lap. "liked having a mouth full of cock?" he grins mockingly, left arm folded on his back as he rests back on it. you nod your head, eyes still closed. the man chuckles, wiping away the drool on your face and chest. he makes sure to wipe his hand on your asscheek also, then slapping it afterwards.

"good now?" he checks up on you.

"yes. all good." you flash him a toothy smile with a thumbs up. jungkook smiles, tongue poking his cheek. "c'mere." he pulls you closer by your waist and securely wraps his right arm around you. your cheek was resting against his peck while he caressed your hair, giving your scalp a few massages here and there.

jungkook trails kisses from the back of your ear down to your neck, darting his tongue out to lick some areas known to make you moan. "let me take care of you, doll."

your sugar daddy gently lays down your body on the bed, hovering over you quickly. he takes a moment to stare down at you, a stupid little smile brightening up his face. you raise your eyebrow, quick to pick up on that. "what? why're you smiling like that?" you ask.

"why not?" jungkook snickers, he pinches the tip of your cheek, thumb gently caressing it afterwards. you feel your cheeks heat up. leaning into his touch, you smile a little.

jungkook lifts you hips up, angling his cock with your entrance and you almost— almost forget your plan. immediately, you halt and place your hand on his chest with a shake of your head.

"why? something wrong?"

you nod your head, gently pushing the man back.

"what're you doing?" you shush him up with your index finger pressed against his lips and shaking your head. jungkook raises his eyebrow.

"i wanna ride you."

jungkook just stares at you as if you've just told him the craziest thing ever, eyes wide as well. stop. this is making you feel embarrassed. what if he just laughs at you?

"what, you're gonna ride me now?" jungkook couldn't help but laugh a little, but immediately shutting himself up when he sees the frown on your face. "okay, sorry, sorry."

"yeah, i am." your voice came out almost inaudible. you felt so small in his large presence. with his big eyes boring into yours, you feel put on the spot. like. like everyone's looking at you holding a mic to your mouth expecting you to talk.

the corner of his lip slightly twitches up, then he breaks into a smile. big hands land on your hips and effortlessly drags you closer to him, he then lifts your chin up, thumb swiping over your lower lip. "sure you won't hurt yourself?"

"yes, daddy. not gonna hurt." jungkook chuckles at the nickname, finding it amusing. you both never really used the name daddy, just once or twice. although, you can't deny how the nickname gets you feeling sort of...thrilled? aroused? jungkook could say the same.

"daddy, huh?" he clicks his tongue.

you nod your head with a small hum, raising your body up to sit on your knees. "lie down, please."

jungkook listens to your request with a teasing smirk on his face. hah, you wanted to fuck that smirk off of him soooooo bad. he lies down on the bed with two pillows supporting his back and makes himself comfortable. he raises his eyebrow watching your puzzled expression, trying really hard to read your face. his legs are spread, fat cock rock hard and leaking that precum you love so much. you gulp down the drool that was already pooled up in your mouth, eyes darting between jungkook's eyes and his cock.

"what're you waiting for? come fuck me, girl."

and you do.

gliding yourself over his muscular thighs, you settle yourself on top of him, your thighs on each side of his waist. you avert your gaze down to his massive cock, twitching with pre cum leaking from the tip, impatiently waiting for you. you take a long deep breath before raising your body over his thighs, then angling your pelvis over his cock. wrapping your hand around his base, you teasingly rub the tip on your folds. jungkook tugs on his lower lip as your pussy twitches against his tip, both your juices slightly mixed with eachother. you raise your hips up again and this time, a string of wetness appears connecting your hole and his reddened tip.

"fucking nasty. you're soaking." jungkook couldn't help but reach out to touch your pussy one more time. you groan once his thumb harshly rubs on your clit while his fingers sunk into your pussy for a moment. he pulls them out before you could even enjoy the feeling, ending it with a slap on your clit. "go on. get on this dick."

jungkook was such a slut.

the moment you finally sink yourself in, or try to, both of you let out a soft gasp, taking in how genuinely tight it felt.

"god, kook...mh", your chest heaved up and down as you balanced yourself, still not fully sunk in his dick yet. you move your hand down there to spread your pussy lips a little further apart, then pushing yourself down a little further.

jungkook stayed silent watching you struggle for a few seconds before deciding to step in. "you okay? want help?" his fingers caressed from your waist to hips, trying to soothe you. you whine, frustrated, ugh—

"i can't. can't do this—mh, too big!"

you give up.

jungkook clicks his tongue, clearly disappointed. he shakes his head, disapproving your decision. "come on, baby. 'know you can do this. you're a hardworking girl. it's okay."

"no, no, no, ahh, can't." you shake your head in denial.

"tsk. no. you're gonna do this. slap my thigh if it's too much, m?" a tear escapes your eye as you finally agree to proceeding to pursue your initial goal. jungkook decides to lend a helping hand by rubbing your clit in various patterns slowly to get you wetter and make it easier for you. "better not cum."

"hmm...", you moan out.

with your throbbing clit being rolled in between the tip of the big man's fingers, you sink your hips down his much bigger dick, eyes widening at the newfound sensation.

"SHIT— oh, mm!" his tip hit your g spot, causing your entire body to tremble a little. the action makes jungkook laugh cockily, his lips forming into a mocking pout.

"gonna cum already? my dick only had to get in? you're that needy?" he slaps your cheeks lightly. you give him nothing but a small enticing glare. jungkook groans and taps your hips as a signal for you to get moving.

your knees buried deep into the bed sheets, you steady yourself before guiding your hips up and down slowly. honestly, it hurt. your walls were so mushy and tight, firmly gripping the base of his cock.

"ah, loosen up, angel. if not, you'll make me cum just from that tightness—shiii."

you try to loosen up your pussy hole, relaxing your entire body but ugh, you just can't do it. with a whine, you continue thrusting yourself downwards on his cock. jungkook adjust himself to you fully— your pussy felt soooo full. so fucking stuffed. his tip reached your womb. you didn't even know having him this deep could be possible. it hurt so bad, yet it felt so good. jungkook's hand reaches behind your back to grab the flesh of your ass and mold it into his liking, slapping and pulling on the flesh.

by now you've learnt how to sit on his dick fully inside. and now, you're doing to fuck it.

"h-haaa—" a breathy moan surpasses through as you begin riding his dick, your walls tightly squeezing in his fat base. your moves were slow and careful, careful trying not to hurt yourself too much. it already hurt so bad, no—burnt. your pussy felt as if it was burning, overwhelmed by the size of his dick. you squeeze your eyes shut, suddenly remembering why you've never tried fully taking him in. cause your cunt was too small! and fuck! does it hurt!

still, you try, brushing away the second thoughts. the skin slapping noises grew louder each thrust as you let his cock hit deeper and deeper areas. jungkook was in pure ecstasy. the most attractive woman he's ever seen (he would never never reveal that to you) is riding his dick. he loved every second of it.

his hands cup your tits through the sheer fabric of your skimpy lingerie, thumbing your nipples hard. he could feel your nipples grow harder, he just could. which drove him crazy. jungkook's thumbs swipe on your nipples, swirling the bud around too. the bridge of his nose brush against your collarbone as he leans his face closer to your neck, whispering sweet nothings.

"i fucking love watching you struggle like this." you grip onto his wrist tightly, twisting it around with your nails digging deep into his skin and probably creating scars. thankfully for your wet slick, it progressively got easier for you to slide up and down.

"take this off. mm, now." his fingers toyed with the straps of your skimpy ass top, tugging on the fragile material and pulling on it. you groan, hurriedly taking off the annoying ass top and throwing it away to let it land on wherever.

you breasts were fully bare for him, big and juicy, nipples hard as fuck. you were such an eye candy. he loved—liked everything about you. so fucking hot. he could go insane.

your jaw falls open, shoulder pushed back and chest popped out as you rode his dick. such a pornographc sight. your tits bounced along with each of your jumps. puffy clit rubbing against his pelvis with each thrust of your hips, his dark pubic brushing against your clit, creating some sort of friction as well. fuuuck.

jungkook caresses your hips, fingertips also dancing across your asscheeks, bringing you a relaxing feeling amidst the heavy workout you're putting yourself through. you slam yourself onto his dick, pussy quite literally splitting into two. you've never fucked someone this hard. this is so crazy, you're actually taking him— you gasp, letting yourself feel out his dick fully.

fuckfuckfuck you could feel his dick tightly smuggled inside your chubby cunt, feeling out the tight clasp of your walls as you literally squeezed him shut. shit, you're scared he wouldn't be able to pull out even. you're squeezing him that tightly. you hold onto his broad shoulders, long manicured nails digging into the skin, probably—most probably leaving marks. you inhale in the musky scent he always has once he gets back from work. you loooveeee it.

"please, i—literally—like, fawwkkkk jungkook!" jungkook hisses, hands messily searching for the discarded dirty panties on the side of the bed. he finally finds them and brings them upto his nose to take a long sniff out of it. a looongg nasty sniff. "you're so dirty, daddy."

his eyes drift from the dirty material to yours in a second. he quickly dropped it off and snakes his arms from under your thighs to hoist you up the bed. you squeel in surprise, arms immediately wrapping around his neck for stability. jungkook looks at you from below, big doe eyes glistening at you as you stared back. you giggle a little once you feel his hand slap your asscheek and grab it again.

jungkook leans forward to envelope your lips in a sweet kiss. you sigh in content, kissing him back passionately as your tongues swirled on eachother. you both were eating out eachothers face so good. moving your heads rhythmically in sync while your nails scratched his back real good. you exchanged saliva, head tilting to various sides as you shared a sloppy messy kiss. so fucking hot.

"mmh, put it in...", you try to reach behind your back and grab his dick but jungkook beats you to it, swatting your hand away. he grips his cock, squeezing the red tip with a hiss. "inside me, daddy." his mind feels fuzzy as he slides his dick inside you again. this time, it enters pretty easy, much easier than before. well, since you're well lubricated and all. you both moan in sync, shoulders dramatically falling down as he fills you up again. you hug his muscular body, gliding up and down his dick once again. second time feels much better than last. shiiiit.

"you're so big. i—" you sigh deeply, whole cunt swallowing his fat dick. "hm, it slips in so easily now." you grunt into his neck, trying to adjust yourself. "yeah, cause you're slippery as shit."

"c'mon, sweetheart." he pats your back as you start over, again. you begin riding his dick once more, this time gripping onto the head of the bed and his head. "you know you're doing so good, yeah? never been more proud of you." you could feel the bone of his nose poke your neck as he inhales your sweaty scent in. jungkook presses tiny kisses all over your neck, down to your collarbone. little kisses all over your collarbone. little hickeys forming all over your collarbone ૮꒰ ⊃ ⸝⸝ ⊂ ꒱ྀིა

yeah you know what, maybe you overestimated yourself. fuck does this hurt. did your pussy get smaller or what. you were squeezing him so tight. so fucking tight.

"koo— haaarrd... 'm struggling." you grunt into his neck.

"lemme take over, then."

"wha—no. i'm fucking you." you refuse his offer quite literally right away.

"you're barely holding on. can't even keep my dick inside without moving around. hm?" he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, squeezing your cheeks together mockingly. he treated you as if you were a feeble little being who couldn't even complete the simplest task.

nothing simple about this dick.

he made sure his dick was perfectly tucked inside, ready to absolutely break you apart on it.

your pussy suddenly starts pulsating, clenching around his dick repeatedly. jungkook lets out a gruff moan, palm slapping against your waist.

"stop fucking clenching. you gonna cum, yeah? is that what this is?"

"mmmhm, i don't want to cum." you break into a whine into his shoulder. "'s okay, just let it out on me, yeah?" he sneaks his arm in between you guys and sticks his thumb out on your very swollen clit. you flinch once he starts rubbing your clit, and in no time, you cream his dick.

"fuck, no, i—i don't want to cum yet." you punch his arm and bite his shoulder, agitated that he just had to make you cum. "i wanted to make you cum first. fuck you." "too bad. i barely even moved."

"are you making fun of me?"

"maybe."

you tug on his hair and bite his arm as revenge.

"i haven't cum yet. did you forget?" he pulls on your hair.

"you know that i wanted to ride you." you huff,

"and you did."

"barely." you roll your eyes, snuggling closer into him, face nuzzled into his neck.

"yeah, my bad my dick's too big."

"you're so over the head."

"okay, but we both know i'm right."

"my vagina is burning."

jungkook pinches the top of your ass and flips you over so that you'd be laying on your back. the sudden movement catches you off guard as you yelp in surprise.

"ow! that hurt."

jungkook doesn't respond to you, but slowly, carefully, pulls his dick out of you. he's still rock hard. you're not surprised.

"you said you wanted to make me feel good, yeah?" he caresses the side of your face, moving away each and every hair sticking to your face. gentle kisses all over your face, cheek, nose, eyes—he suddenly stops, the eye contact between you two breaking the moment he looks away. your breath hitch, there's a tingling feeling all over your body, it felt like the tip of a feather gracing over your face.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Mhm.”

Jungkook squeezes the fat of your belly with a soft kiss on top and suddenly—he was so sly with it too—enters his dick inside your cunt again. “AH!”, you yelp out due to the sudden waves of pain and pleasure sent right from your swollen fucking pussy.

“Come on, girl, take it. I know you can—haah.”

He plunges his dick deep in you with a hard thrust and immediately going at it. He didn’t stop. No he did not. Jungkook rutted into your wet cunt like an animal in heat, desperate to hear the high pitch moans coming out of your swollen lips.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, back arched and gasps left your lips repeatedly. It hurt so bad. Your pussy was fucking burning. It hurt so bad that it felt so good. He’s never done this before. He’s never probably been inside you fully. You swore to the heavens above that your cunt was already torn apart. There was no way.

“Jungkook—mmhphhhhhhhhhttttt!!! It hurts so much! Stop, ah, fuck!”

You raise your legs up, slinking them around his toned sweaty fucking torso. Jungkook grabbed a handful of your meaty thighs, using the fat for support to cling onto you more.

“Please! Stopstopstopstop it hurts so much!”

You didn’t actually want him to stop. You would’ve used to the safe word if so, you and him both knew that very well.

Jungkook grunts in annoyance with a slap on your ass to shut you up.

“Shut up and take my fucking dick. You wanted this. Finish what you’ve started. Take my fucking dick like you said you would!”

He was so big.

“You’re a big girl made for taking big fucking cocks like mine, yeah?”

Without a warning, his palms slap against both your asscheeks before hoisting your entire body up into his arms. Jungkook had you on top of his thighs, carrying your entire weight on his arms as he thrusted from below. His thrusts were so harsh and aggressive with the intention of only wrecking your pussy apart. You were bounced on his cock like a ragdoll. He used you for his pleasure, letting his cock mold the insides of your pussy to the perfect shape that'll fit him always.

"I'm not letting this pussy go now. Hah", he rocks your body upwards again, letting you fall onto his. you cling onto his body for dear life, arms wrapped around his neck, breasts bouncing in front of his face. you could feel his balls slap against your ass repeatedly. they were wet, slimey and sticky. he spread the stickyness on his balls everywhere, constantly reminding you of the fact that he was deep inside you now. like, finally.

"da-ddy! i can't believe you're fucking me like t-this."

you close your eyes tight, your nails gripping onto jungkook's scalp as you let out a scream.

"please, oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD! i'm g'na- HAAH!"

jungkook recognizes the familiar high pitched sound you make, hand sneakily rubbing your puffy clit again. and as a cherry on top, he spreads your ass cheeks apart and sneaks his thumb in between to penetrate your neglected tight little hole. he rubs your hole and inserts the tip of his finger in, repeating the process after. You were so tight down there, considering the fact that you were still an ass virgin. He always said he was gonna take your ass sometime, but you always said no. This was your first time. Fuck.

The finger in your ass caught you off guard as you let out a shriek, your asshole immediately tightening at the sensation.

“Jung…hah. My ass—hhnmpht!”

He shushes you up with a kiss and got into work, rubbing your swollen little clit with his right hand and finger your tight asshole with his left hand, all while his cock absolutely ruined you from below.

“Stop! Too much! Too much! Too much!”

You slobber all over his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably as your entire body shiver and crumble against him. You didn’t have to tell Jungkook once, he knew you were just about to cum.

“Cum, baby. Let go. You’ve done amazing.” He fastens his pace on your clit, giving you just enough simulation.

“Ah! I’m g’na pee! FuckfuckfuckfuckSTOP!!”

You let out one more loud cry before aggressively trembly. Your pussy is so used and swollen and your ass hurts so much. Fuck. It didn’t take that long till your pussy starts squirting angrily. Your eyes widen, back arching as you let your pussy take full control of your body.

Jungkook pulls out of you for a brief moment to let you squirt wherever. His hand never left your clit though, continuing to rub at an increased speed. Your pussy convulses aggressively, squirting on everything and everywhere. The sheets behind you were fully drenched with your squirt and so was his dick, that was right under you.

“I’m sorry I’m making a mess all over your bed,” you cry into his shoulder, completely overwhelmed with everything that’s happening.

You’re still squirting. You don’t know if you’re actually squirting or just straight up pissing yourself on him. This was so embarrassing. Your face was so red. This is so humiliating fuckfuckfuck.

“I’m so”—you choke,“—embarrassed. Ahh, I’ve ruined everything.” You cry out, covering your face with your hands. Jungkook understood that this was an intense moment for you. You’ve squirted before, but never this hard. He soothes you by bringing you into his embrace, tracing patterns on your back to help you calm down.

You choke on your tears again. You were crying so much. You’ve never cried this much during sex before. As concerned he was for you, he was starting to admit he liked that sight. He liked it when you were crying out for him.

You let out the last bit of squirt on his cock, drenching him fully. Jungkook’s cock twitches, it’s angry head starting to let out spurts of cum.

Fuck, he couldn’t believe it. He was cumming. He was cumming so hard from just watching you orgasm. He was getting off to your orgasm.

“Fuck. Shit. Oh my god”, Jungkook groans. He throws his head backwards, letting his cum spurt out as you squeezed his balls. There was a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as his face changed into various expressions as he emptied his balls into your mouth.

You made sure to put your mouth on it and let his cum fall right onto your tongue, just how he liked it. And you also made sure to swallow it all, just how he liked it.

You were still getting off of your high as well, body still crumbled against his.

“It’s okay, babygirl”, Jungkook coos into your ear and soothingly rubs your pussy slowly with your palm till you calm down.

“It stings”, you whine.

“Hmm, I know, baby. Take a deep breath.”

You obey him, taking a deep breath as he wiped off your tears. You sniffle. Your pussy was still throbbing and hole gaping. Fuck. You’re gonna stay stretched like this for a while. He ripped you apart.

“My gorgeous girl. You did so well.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “I can’t believe I fucking came to you squirting”, he chuckles.

“I wanted you to cum in my pussy.” You whine, spreading your pussy lips apart once again.

“I know. But this is more than enough. You know I get off to your orgasms.” He swats your hand away.

“Let her rest.” Jungkook leans down to press a kiss to your swollen worn out pussy.

You cry out, scooting closer to him.

Jungkook then picked you up, took you to the bathroom, made you pee, and brought you back to bed after changing the sheets.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

What?

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts jk #bts smut #jungkook smut #smut #jungkook x you #x yn #jungkook fluff #jungkook au #jeon jungkook #fiction

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kingkonoha · 1 year ago

Text

“You Want to Adopt Me?”

♡ — SUMMARY: You & GOJO decide to adopt Yuji & Megumi.

♡ — A/N: This is a continuation of my dad!gojo au, but reading the other parts isn’t necessary.

♡ — WC: 2k

Four hours had passed since the glorious moment in which Yuji discovered that his beloved teacher had a wife and daughter.

And, after having dinner with all of you that evening, he never wanted to leave.

Walking home that night — all alone, with no family around who would care whether or not he was safe — was one of the most difficult things he had to do. It made curse fighting seem like child’s play.

It was so utterly painful; he fought to hold back a tear as he walked down the sidewalk, staring at his shoes, which he could only see thanks to the dim streetlights.

Truth be told, he hated himself for getting so emotional over this.

Most, if not all of his friends were just as lonely as he was. Most of them didn’t sit at a dinner table and gobble down a nice warm meal with a loving family.

Most of them didn’t have a mother to hug them, or a father to cheer them up. And, if their parents were still around, they were probably distant and unloving.

Even so, it didn’t change the fact that having a family was, perhaps, the one thing Yuji truly wanted.

He just wanted to be loved.

The ache in his heart was so incredibly strong. The pain shot throughout his chest, through his veins, and down to his fingertips.

“Why am I so emotional? I can’t cry over this,” Yuji thought. “This isn’t something worth crying over.”

An unwavering lump in his throat formed from his attempts at holding back a cry.

That was when his footsteps came to a halt.

What was the point in rushing back to his lonely, isolating room at the school?

No one was waiting for him. He could go anywhere he wanted, and no one would truly miss him.

People would look for him, but mainly because of their obligation as sorcerers to track down Sukuna’s vessel. Nothing more.

Some people would actually prefer it if Yuji did disappear. And a few people were honest enough to tell him that to his face.

As he stood there, in the dark, alone on the sidewalk on such a cold night, he couldn’t help but wonder if his friends would secretly be happy if he did somehow vanish into thin air.

Maybe loneliness was destined for him. Maybe everyone would feel safer if he didn’t return to the school. Maybe-

“Hey, Yuji!”

Gojo’s voice startled the young boy, who instantly turned around to see his teacher approaching him, his hands in his pockets. “You didn’t make it too far — good.”

“Is everything okay?” Yuji asked.

Gojo could hear the sadness in his voice, but he decided not to comment on it. After all, he knew exactly why his student was upset. He didn’t have to be a genius to figure it out.

“Yeah, listen,” Gojo paused, “it’s pretty cold and dark out here. Why don’t you come back to my house and stay the night? We can both head back to the school in the morning.”

For a moment, Yuji felt a spark of happiness, but that spark quickly fizzled out.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Yuji frowned. “I’m a vessel. I’m dangerous. Having me sleep in the same house as your wife and kid would be-”

“Would be fine,” Gojo interrupted. “Nothing bad is going to happen, Yuji. Me and Y/N both know that you’re a vessel, and we want you to come anyway.”

Yuji didn’t respond. Nor did he move an inch. Gojo spoke once again.

“She wants to make you pancakes in the morning,” he said in a tempting tone. “Homemade too. The kind that has the crispy edges, but are very soft and fluffy at the same time? We have syrup and butter — orange juice as well. Or do you prefer apple juice? We have both, either way. Not to mention, the bed in our guest bedroom is bigger and way more comfortable than the one at the school-“

“Okay!” Yuji suddenly smiled happily, and it was a real, genuine grin.

He quickly rushed past Gojo, making his way back to your warm, cozy home eagerly.

—

Seven months later, Yuji visited your home as often as he could. Sometimes, Megumi would tag along with him, as the dark-haired boy secretly craved a connection with a loving family too, even if he’d never admit it.

On this particular day, Megumi was lying on the couch, covered in blankets as he watched a movie about two princesses going on some sort of adventure.

Megumi was injured during his last mission, and thanks to the chilly weather, he was also catching a bit of a cold as well. You insisted upon taking care of him, but your daughter insisted that making him watch Barbie movies all afternoon would make him feel better.

As the two of them watched the movie together, you were in the kitchen, standing over your wooden cutting board as you chopped up carrots, onions, and celery.

Yuji hovered over the sink, washing the dishes.

“I want you to have some soup as well, Yuji. You could catch a cold any day now.”

“Yes ma’am,” Yuji said, scrubbing a plate as he smiled softly. “I really appreciate it.”

Suddenly, the front door opened, and Gojo walked in, shouting casually, “I’m home, everyone!”

Quick, soft footsteps could be heard pattering against the floor as your daughter ran up to Gojo, holding her arms out.

“Daddy! You’re home!” She giggled as he lifted her.

“I’ve missed my little muffin so much,” tickling her, he said, “did you have a good day? I think my little girl has grown a couple of inches since I last saw her this morning! Did she grow? Hm?”

The sound of your daughter’s laughter made Gojo smile brightly.

As he held her, he walked into the living room and ruffled Megumi’s hair.

“Cut it out,” the teenager frowned.

“Good to see you too,” Gojo paused, pressing the back of his hand against Megumi’s forehead. “You’ve cooled down a little since this morning, that’s good. I’ll give you some more medicine later on, okay?”

“Okay,” Megumi mumbled.

Gojo slowly put his daughter down. “I’m gonna go say hi to Mom, okay? Keep an eye on Megumi for me.”

“Okay!” Your daughter happily replied. “I can keep an eye on Meg-mi!”

When Gojo made his way into the kitchen, ruffling Yuji’s hair as the boy walked passed him on his way to join Megumi and your daughter in the living room, you instantly stopped chopping your vegetables.

You wrapped your arms around your husband’s neck.

“Hi baby,” he greeted, kissing your lips softly. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” with a smile, you looked into his eyes. “Did you have a good day? Kill any curses?”

“I had a great day. Didn’t kill any curses, though. I was just stuck in a bunch of meetings with the higher-ups,” Gojo said softly, his face only inches from yours, his hands on your hips. “What’s on your mind? You have that look in your eyes.”

“Well,” you paused. “I know they’re teenagers, and they’re very strong and independent, but . . . I can’t help but feel protective over those boys. I love them both like they’re my own. Last week, Yuji accidentally called me mom. He was just so excited when he saw the new clothes I got him for winter, and it slipped out. And it just made me think that, well . . . Maybe he should be able to call me mom. Both he and Megumi. I wanna adopt them.”

Gojo was silent for a moment, which made you frown a bit in worry. Suddenly, he kissed your pouty lips. It was a soft, passionate kiss — one that told you just how much he loved you.

“I think that’s a great idea,” he mumbled against your lips once he pulled away.

“I just think that those boys deserve a place to call home, and that school certainly isn’t it, especially when the people who run it don’t care about their lives at all. It’s just horrible.” Your frown deepened. “And we have more than enough room here, too. We can keep them safe and happy.”

“Let’s go tell them.”

—

Yuji, Megumi, and your daughter were all sitting in the living room, enjoying each other’s company.

The sight of it only confirmed that you and Gojo were making the right decision.

“Hey, we need to talk to you three,” Gojo said.

Megumi grabbed the remote, switching off the television as he struggled to sit upright.

“What’s going on?” Yuji asked, sitting on the floor as your daughter sat down beside him.

“Well, we noticed that you and Megumi have been spending a lot of time here recently.”

Gojo’s words sent an all too familiar heartache through Yuji’s chest. He frowned sadly.

“They’re about to tell me to go away,” Yuji thought. “I knew this wouldn’t last.”

“Me and Gojo decided that it would be best for-”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I get it. I can leave.” Yuji suddenly cut you off, trying his best to hide his pain behind a smile. Slowly, he started to get up, and your daughter grabbed ahold of his pants leg, looking up at him sadly. “I’m sorry if I was a bother. Thanks for everything.”

“Woah, Yuji, where are you going?” You called out, watching the teenager head for the front door.

“Yuji, stop,” Gojo stood up from his seat.

Yuji, who was almost out of the living room, instantly stopped walking. But he didn’t turn back around.

Quiet sniffles could be heard. No matter how hard he fought, or how much he had been through, he wasn’t strong enough to hold back his tears.

The pain of feeling unwanted was simply too great.

He tried to wipe his tears away quickly and silence his little sobs, as he didn’t want to make you and Gojo feel guilty for not wanting a dangerous vessel like him around.

Slowly, Gojo approached his crying student. “Yuji, you have it all wrong. We don’t want you to go anywhere.”

Yuji didn’t respond.

Gojo placed a comforting hand on the crying boy’s head.

“Me and Y/N are going to adopt you,” Gojo smiled. “Looks like you’re my son now.”

“We wanna adopt you too, Megumi,” you said, smiling at the stunned teenager. “We want you to be our son too.”

“I don’t get it — why?” Megumi asked rather sadly. The pain of being unwanted.

“Because we love and care about both of you, so why not?” You said.

“You guys . . . You want to adopt me?” Yuji turned around, his wide, glassy eyes shiny with utter shock. “This isn’t some sort of prank, is it?”

“Of course not,” Gojo grinned at Yuji, before turning his attention towards his daughter, who was starting to tear up when she saw that Yuji was about to leave. “You’re going to have two new brothers, muffin!”

Your daughter smiled brightly, standing up and she ran over to the couch, throwing her arms across Megumi to hug him. Then, she ran up to Yuji with open arms, and he bent down and hugged his future little sister.

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Yuji said, flickering his eyes between you and Gojo. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I promise that I’ll be the greatest son ever!”

Megumi, who stared at his lap as he tried to process everything, suddenly spoke up.

“Thank you for everything,” he mumbled. “I really . . . Thank you.”

“Let’s have a group hug!” Yuji happily suggested.

“Great idea,” Gojo added on just as excitedly. “Everyone pile on top of Megumi since he can’t come to us.”

“Wait, wait, wait-“

Megumi’s new family instantly rushed over to the couch, hugging him and giving him more love than he could handle.

Truthfully, he had no idea how to begin processing this level of happiness, but he looked forward to learning what joy was like.

When Yuji cried this time, he didn’t bother stopping the tears. The warm and silly embrace was healing his soul in ways he didn’t know were possible.

His dream had come true — everything he ever wanted.

Yuji sighed in contentment as the hugging continued, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“Finally,” he said with relief.

He finally had a family.

Next part.

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hairmetal666 · 3 months ago

Text

"Is this always how they act?" Jonathan asks. He has to lean close and yell a little for Robin to hear him over the noise of the house party.

"Yup," she says.

She, Jonathan, and Argyle continue to stare at Eddie, sitting in an easy chair, Steve perched happily on his lap. Eddie has a whole bowl of bbq Lay's, and Steve will lean back for a chip, which Eddie feeds him with a smile.

"And they're definitely not dating?" Argyle asks when Steve leans back to whisper in Eddie's ear, mouth pressed close. It's deeply gratifying that they just got in from California and already they see it.

"Steve says no."

"You think he's lying?" Jonathan asks.

"I think he doesn't realize he likes Eddie yet."

Eddie tugs at Steve's hair, and Steve turns back, gives him a smile that's so intimate Robin can't stare directly at it. Instead, she turns to her friends, but Argyle is still watching Eddie and Steve. He's drumming his fingers against his chin, expression what Robin could only call mischievous.

"What are you planning?" Jonathan asks.

"Just helping some bros find true love."

Jonathan looks mildly concerned but before he can say anything, Nancy makes her appearance. And they're something, becoming something, and she cares about Eddie and Steve getting their shit together, but Nancy is smiling and she's so, so pretty. It's easy to get lost in the blue of her eyes and the sweep of her hair and forget about everything else.

---

A few hours later and they're all sitting around a coffee table in the basement, just the six of them. It's sort of funny, she thinks, how it always ends up being the six of them.

They're crossfaded already, but that hasn't stopped Eddie and Argyle from lighting another joint. Her thoughts have gone light and floaty, all that's holding her to earth the press Steve's leg and Nancy's hand against hers.

Argyle is sort of monologuing and she doesn't think any of them are paying much mind, but then he stops mid-sentence, grips Jonathan's shoulder tight enough that his knuckles go white. "Dudes. What if we played Truth or Dare?"

Nancy snorts. "Not on your life."

"I don't think I can move?" She says. She leans into Steve, sighing with contentment.

"I, for one, would love to see Buckley complete a dare," Eddie says.

She sticks her tongue out at him. "I've done plenty. Band kid, remember?"

"Ugh, curse the horny trumpeters." Eddie slumps on the coffee table in defeat.

"I'll have you know, they were very wholesome games."

Steve squints at her. "Wasn't there an orgy in someone's pool?"

She sniffs, looks away instead of answering, which makes everyone laugh.

"Speaking of sex," Argyle says. "No one catch your eye tonight, Harrington?"

"Wasn't really looking."

"That's new," Jonathan says.

Steve laughs. "I'm tired of hooking up."

He's told her that too, countless times. She thinks the real reason he hasn't dated in months is sitting right next to him, drumming his fingers on the coffee table.

"Maybe you've just lost your touch," Argyle says.

"I have not!" Steve clutches a hand over his heart. "If I wanted to, I could pull any girl upstairs."

"C'mon, my dude, no way you're that good."

"I was!" He looks to Robin, Nancy, Jonathan. "I was, back me up!"

"I don't know, Scoops wasn't your best work," she says.

"No, no, we said Scoops doesn't count! It was the hat. The outfit! I did fine after!"

"I happened to think the sailor costume was very cute," Eddie says.

"Thank you," Steve preens. He shifts away from her to lean into Eddie, who grins.

"I don't think we can trust Eddie's judgement here," Nancy says.

Steve points at her. "Yes, and I remember you being totally uninterested."

She squeaks in indignation, Robin smothering her own giggles behind her hand. "It was--it was hormones!"

"Yeah, very uninterested in me." Jonathan chimes in. There's a little second where no one reacts--the fact that Nancy was technically still with Steve when that happened ringing unspoken between them--before Nancy and Steve start to giggle.

"I've hooked up with everyone I've ever tried to," Argyle chimes in, nonchalant.

"No way," the whole group says.

"I've got the touch."

"C'mon, that literally can't be true just by like...stats," Steve says.

"Don't know what to tell you, my dude." Argyle's smile is smug. "I'm really good."

"You're just jealous," she tells him. She nudges his shoulder so he knows she's joking.

"No! Jealousy has nothing to do with it."

They erupt at that, calling out the obvious lie.

"I'm not upset!" Steve shouts over them. "I'm just saying, it didn't happen. Sorry, Argyle. You have bizzaro charm, but there's no way it has a 100% success rate."

"Sounds like jealousy to me, Stevie." Eddie cocks his head with a smirk.

"Harrington, you're so cute when you're competitive," Argyle says. "Anyway, it worked on--"

"Don't say Jonathan," Nancy, Steve, and Robin all say.

"Hey! Why not me?'

"Well, it's just--" Nancy waves her hand in the air. "You're. I mean. It's not hard."

Jonathan groans, hides his face in his hands as they laugh.

"I'll prove it to you," Argyle says to Steve. "100% success rate."

"What?"

"I'm going to seduce you."

"Oh, shit," she says.

She knows what's going to happen even before Steve puts his hands on his hips, awkwardly cause they're sitting, cocks an eyebrow, and says, "Okay."

Eddie grumbles something she can't make out, but Steve shakes his head, laughs. "Nah, it's just for fun, right?"

"Until it works." Argyle tosses his hair.

Steve rolls his eyes. "Gimme your best shot."

They rearrange around the table, Eddie and Argyle swapping places.

Everyone is quiet for a second, Steve reaches for his drink. "You got great hands, Harrington," Argyle says.

"I--oh, what?" Steve splutters. He goes a little pink, and Robin thinks it's the first time she's seen him this flustered by a compliment.

"Yeah." Argyle takes his hand, traces along his palm and knuckles. "Big. Strong. Like you could really take care of someone."

Eddie kicks the table, sending it rocking, scattering empty cups and chip bags. Steve is crimson, totally oblivious to Eddie's flailing.

"Thanks," he mumbles. He doesn't pull his hand away. Robin, everyone, is riveted.

"No one's ever told you that?"

"No. No one."

"That's too bad. It's probably all about your hair and your eyes and your body."

Steve smiles and it's one she recognizes, flirty and a little wicked. "You noticed my body?"

Argyle laughs. "Oh, c'mon, you know everyone notices that."

"Would you believe it if I told you I don't get enough compliments?"

"Not on your life."

Steve leans into him, giggles. "Well, worth a shot, right?"

"Always. You wanna know the first thing I noticed about you?"

"Ass, right?"

"It was how much you love your friends but you hide it behind a facade of disapproval. Made me think maybe you weren't used to the love you want to give being reciprocated."

They're all locked in on Argyle and Steve, but she notices Eddie flinch, move like he's about to stand, Nancy reaching out to stop him. She thinks, then, for the first time, that maybe this is mean to him. He doesn't know it's not real.

"Oh," Steve says. His voice breaks, a little, and her heart breaks for him. "I--oh."

"Your ass was the second thing I noticed," Argyle quips and the tension around the table breaks, Steve giggling.

With smooth confidence she never would have expected him to possess, Argyle cards his fingers through Steve's hair. "Just had to touch it for myself." His voice is soft.

"That all you want to touch?"

Argyle grins. "Not even a little bit."

She watches, stunned, as Steve leans in, face almost touching Argyle's. Eddie makes a noise, a pained cough, and Steve leaps to his feet.

"I can't kiss you!" He half-yells, stumbling.

"And why not?" Argyle asks. He's got a wild smile on his face.

"I'm in love with Eddie!" Steve's eyes are wide, panicked.

"I'm sorry," Steve says to him. "Eddie, I--"

But before he can get the words out, Eddie's climbing over the coffee table, sending drinks and snacks flying, the calls for him to get down ignored as he trips into Steve's arms.

"You love me?" Eddie asks.

"I'm sorry I couldn't say it before. I--got in my head about it and I--I hoped it didn't seem like I was leading you on because my words kept getting stuck, and--"

"Sweetheart." Eddie stops him. "I--" He breaks off, notices that the rest of them are raptly listening to the confession. "Do you want to go somewhere we can talk?"

They disappear upstairs, and she turns to Argyle in awe. "I can't believe that actually worked."

"What can I say, I'm a miracle worker. Are there more Doritos?"

---

Early in the morning, they're piled in Nancy's station wagon, Jonathan driving them home. She and Nancy are in the middle seat, Steve and Eddie in the back. Steve's curled against him, face pressed to his neck, hidden by a cloud of hair. She wants to ask what happened, how their conversation went, if they're official and how long Steve's known he's in love, but Nancy moves closer, head dropping to Robin's shoulder. Their fingers entwine and Robin closes her eyes, smiles.

"Tomorrow?" Nancy asks.

She nods. "Tomorrow."

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amiaclone · 3 months ago

Text

You asked I’ll write! Gender neutral reader if you don’t mind

Tw: cursing I guess? Squid game in general should be considered a trigger over all the murdering lmaoo

*In ho sighed for the what? Fifteenth time? He’s been counting it’s what he’s trying to focus on the other thing is well……*

*When he decided to participate in these games again it was to prove Gi hun a point and mess with him a bit so he joined his “team” which well….. they happened to be in*

You were apart of it a strong person filled with determination in debt to a lot of money…..honestly in ho was shocked with how much debt you were in I mean you seemed like someone who’d make it far in live would rule against the poor like he used to be…

But you weren’t you were *trash*

You were lower lower class you were nothing…..

Yet why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

He had a wife who he fell out of love with before he even met you…..swore he’d never fall in love again after distancing himself with his family and starting the games…..

But you just had to be lucky star didn’t you?

You were “kind” and not in a pushover kind of way just….kind like kind that would not take shit from people but would help others in need….and didn’t hide your opinions from others that deserved it….

It was disgusting but…..In a good way? He wanted you not in a possessive way but in a way type of wanting to care for you and you care for him-

*He shook those thoughts off ugh. Why now? He’s usually so calm and collected…..at first he wouldn’t lie he was hoping you’d die in one of the earlier games but now….he isn’t so sure. Gi hun already has plans to take the guns and fight back he had a plan problem was…..you were apart of the main plan

He probably had to kill you it’s probably a good thing but…now he isn’t so sure he’s gotten along with you great and he has a tiny bit of hope that you even like him back so for you to find out he runs these games….he can’t risk it

You’ll find out anyway but he doesn’t wanna face you to your face he atleast wants to hide behind a mask atleast imagining what you’d say…..

Currently he’s trying to convince himself that these feelings aren’t real……maybe it’s just attraction? Of course you’re really good looking maybe it’s that!

“Uh In ho?”

*He turns around that voice dreaded him more then anything the voice he was ready to hear-*

“Are you okay In ho?”

It was Gi hun

*He unfortunately realised that after breaking out of his rare trance he blinked for a few seconds then nodded*

“What is it?”

*Gi hun shrugged* “Nothing you seemed out of it….” *In ho stared at the ground trying to seem calm but spoke in a bitter tone* “I’m fine…” *He let his eyes wander to you who was talking to he thinks Junhee the pregnant lady? Gi hun noticed and raised an eyebrow* “Maybe Y/n will cheer you up…..Hey y/n!”

*You raised an eyebrow nodding at Junhee before walking away up to the two men.*

“You guys need something?” *In ho sighed he’s been trying to avoid hearing your voice….and you in general.* “In ho seems nervous I thought you’d be better at calming him down…*

*As Gi hun left you leaned your back on the bars of the bed he was sitting on….he couldn’t even look at you.*

“So. What is it?” *You asked he didn’t look at you but he could tell you seemed concerned*

“……” “In ho?” “…….If somebody did something almost unforgivable in any way…..what would you do?” “……What?” *You were confused rightfully you knew he was like this but for the way he got was so….* “Just answer the question…..please.” “Well if we were close I’d….wanna know why. Depending on what they did it’s…..hard to say hey are you saying this cause you’re worried or something i understand i am too but…..don’t focus on the negative so much you know?” *As usual kind…..how could such a good human like you be in these games yet he knew…..He is the front man after all he decided to atleast “ask you” and bond maybe a bit before he has to let you go….*

“Yeah you’re right as logical as ever so why are……you in debt if you don’t mind answering?”

*He felt you rise up you stared squinting your eyes then smiling* “Damn didn’t expect anyone to ask me that….don’t think it’s important.”

*Oh he knows what it is why wouldn’t he a petty part of him felt betrayed some what you weren’t gonna tell him after how close you’ve gotten but he decided to keep his cool.*

“You don’t have to tell you i just asked since we might be leaving this place or if neither of us..make it.” *You groaned* “The pessimism again In ho? Jeez you could…..I’ll tell you though cause you do have a point.”

“Well i used to be pretty rich and well-“ *As you went into your story he already knew it but continued to listen you were rich worked in a high payed business workplace but like most work places favouritism is common. Which unfortunately lead to your downfall.* “Anyways one day I found out i was being underpayed a lot of money so I complained this and that and i got a warning complained again then got fired…..It was hard to find a job i didn’t pay the bills for a lot of things debt grew bigger and bigger then a man asked me to play a game one day and well…..here i am.” *Ah yes In ho nodded at your story he knew it all he was the person who called for you to be in the game….you were a wonderful person honestly what was he thinking you were too good for a game like this is something he of all people would never think he would say.* “Im sorry you don’t deserve to be here after all it’s not your fault you’re in debt…” *You shook your head* “Eh I didn’t have a good of a college degree anyway maybe if I studied more in college I wouldn’t be here but eh atleast i got to meet you?” *In ho sighed and he didn’t want to or realise it but he couldn’t help but let a small smile rise genuinely.* “I suppose it’s…..mutual.”

*You sighed smiling* “I can’t wait for tomorrow we’ll finally *maybe* get out of here right?” *He felt his heart stop for a second oh yeah…..that*

*He awkwardly cleared his throat* “Oh yeah I suppose this game will….end and we’ll probably never see each other again” *You snorted* “We can still talk, we can meet up together and talk and stuff it’s not like we need to forget each other…”

*”That’s right” In ho thought he needed to forget you maybe these feelings would go away….but the the thoughts came he didn’t want to but…..”I killed my brother damn it! I can do this I’ve talked to them for only a few days this is…”*

“In ho??” *He stared up at you instinctively like an animal almost he stopped himself and regained his composure.* “Jeez you seem tense maybe get some rest…” “No im…..just thinking….about all the bad decisions…..humans can make.” *You hmmd* “I suppose so humans can be evil if given the chance with such power.” *In ho nodded* “Have you ever thought of doing something regrettable?” *In ho wasn’t sure why he was asking these…..questions but maybe it was to see the inhuman side of them to make him disgusted in you? Maybe that’ll work.* “Well I’ll admit yeah…..I got bullied and when I found out there father had cancer i wanted to well bring it up tear them down….i think i was about 14.” *You didn’t seem shameful you seemed to regret it but not shamed it only made In ho admire you more as he hated it.* “So why didn’t you do anything?” *You laughed a bit* “I would of if it wasn’t for me asking my mom and telling her like i was about to do the best thing she got mad scolded me and told me a different way a better way to handle bullying……and I’ve used that advice since.”

*He quirked an eyebrow what would it be that he hasn’t heard ignore them stand up for yourself be the the bigger person?*

“Be better than them…..because bullies are the weakest of the weakest in society strategy they don’t want you knowing is you finding out you’re better then them.” *He knows that advice he’s never thought much of it but hearing it from you automatically makes him wanna know more…* “Well then your mom raised such a lovely person….you should be proud.” *You scoffed laughing a bit* “I made a lot of mistakes that i can’t even say thought of some weird stuff im glad i didn’t say or do anyways……yeah. We’re human everyone has made one bad mistake you’ll dwell on for the rest of your life my advice is well…..did you regret it?”

*In ho sighed smiling* “Thanks for the advice I’ll rest for a bit” *You got up smiling and leaving that’s it.* “Y/n you’ll always be in my memory….” *In ho didn’t know what to do with them maybe ask them to join him? No! That would be so idiotic they’d never agree….try to make them understand? Maybe let them go? Why doesn’t he want that…..he then smiled.* “I can’t wait for tomorrow y/n you’re so unpredictable maybe you could stay with me…..”

Anddddd a cliffhanger sorry if this is ooc i was halfasleep writing this 😭

#x reader #yandere #character #fanfiction #squid game #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #squid game season 2 x reader #front man #front man x reader #yandere front man #In ho x reader #squid game in ho x reader #y/n

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gayasswitchbitch · 4 months ago

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One Piece- Do they get jealous?

Synopsis: One piece headcannons! Do they get jealous when someone tries to flirt with you?

Ft: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Robin, Nami, Ace, and Law

Tw: none (I THINK) just insecure and jealous thoughts.

Luffy- He wouldn’t understand someone flirting in the first place. I think Nami would have to point out that another person is flirting with you, but even then he doesn’t get it. He would something along the lines of :

“There’s no way someone is flirting with y/n because they’re my partner! Geez.. you guys are dumb!”

He genuinely can’t fathom that someone would try to get with you when he is already with you!

Zoro- I don’t think so. He’s a very confident man and has a decent sized ego. He knows what he’s got. Hes not insecure enough to be jealous over someone liking you.

That being said, I don’t believe he’d just let someone flirt with you though. 100% ready to fight ESPECIALLY if someone puts their hands on you in any way. He’d tell them to back off because you’re taken maybe even a:

“Yeah my partner is really beautiful/handsome aren’t they?” with a smirk and an arm wrapped around your shoulder just to piss them off.

It’s his way of showing you off and making it known that he’s willing to throw down if needed, but he would most likely make another shitty comment and then leave with you in hand.

If they keep persisting though, then he’s going to get pissed off but he def tries to keep it cool before it gets to a fight breaking out.

Sanji- GOD YES. SO JEALOUS. Don’t even let mosshead BREATHE near you! Any time you give another person, specifically another man, attention he LOSES IT.

“Do you hate me, my love? Am I not good enough for you? Tell me what I can do better. I’ll do anything for you just please spare me a passing glance again! What could they give you that I can’t? I’d walk to the ends of the earth for you. I’d starve if it meant you could eat. My love please tell me you still love me!”

When all that happened was you were asking Usopp to help you with some gadget and it took too long in Sanji time. (Which was probably an hour)

He would def try to compete with anyone that did flirt. It was a fierce battle and there was no way he’s losing.

“Did you know that my y/n-swan loves the rain? You can always find her by a tree, blissfully meditating. They love it because it makes them feel like all their stress is being washed away. You can see it fall right off their shoulders. Did you also know that their favorite color is (whatever) ? You can always catch a twinkle in their eye anytime they see it. They have exactly 7 outfits in that color. Did you also know that they like to collect trinkets? They pick one up at every single place we stop the sunny at. Yeah I took it upon myself to be the one to find the trinkets now. Did you know that? Did you also know-“ and he wouldn’t stop.

I could even see him taking it as far as to tell them that they’re not good enough for and could never be good enough for you, then would immediately turn around and seek validation from you to make sure you love him and only him.

Robin- She doesn’t get jealous, she gets possessive. Babygirl has had everyone she loves taken from her so she’s making damn sure you’re not going away and that means you are by her side 24/7.

Most of the time no one even dares to think about flirting with you due to how scary she can be.

She’s a very observant woman. If someone liked you she would instantly spot it and give death stares.

If they still tried to approach you, she would be crossing her arms to take them out, smiling the entire time.

Nami- I think it would only happen if she genuinely thought someone was prettier than her and they were around you alot.

She would get sad and seek reassurance by trying to push your buttons. If that doesnt make her feel better then she would walk up to you and turn at glare at the person before wrapping her arms around your neck to pull you into a deep kiss. After she’s swirling around and giving a “Hmph.” And walking away.

Most of the time she knows she got it. If you wanna be stupid and cheat then it’s on you when she burns down all your belongings.

Ace- This man is already insecure as fuck and your ass is out here being fine as hell. It’s stressful because he knows you’re fine and he knows that other people know you’re fine. He’s like a damn guard dog that doesn’t stop barking. He finds ways to constantly bring you up and it’s a front to make sure everyone knows you’re taken.

“What was that? Oh yeah my partner is really smart! I’m so proud of you babe!”

“Man look at my partner. They’re so strong!”

If he sees someone flirting he gets an instant wave of anxiety. What if you finally realize there’s other people better suited for you out there? What if you finally see that he’s nothing special and that you should move on? What if you see that he’s really not as handsome as you think he is? And what if you think this person is more handsome/pretty? What if they’re funnier? What if he never gets to be the one to put a smile on your face again? Then it’s breakdown time. This happens at least twice a month. He will go on about how he doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve to be here, doesn’t deserve so much goodness when his blood is so corrupt.

Just remind that baby that you’re with him because you love him, you do think he’s the most handsome and it’s insane that he doesn’t see it, that he’s the only person that can make you laugh so hard and so on and he’s good for another month. This only lasts for maybe the first year or so. The more you reassure him, the more confident he gets in your love and starts realizing he is worth of it.

Sabo- Like Robin, he’s more possessive. He will politely laugh along with any onlookers while you’re around and thank them for complimenting you, but as soon as you’re not in the room it’s near death threats.

“Look, I understand y/n is very beautiful/handsome.. but you try and flirt with them again and it’ll be the last thing you ever do”

He says it so calmly, eyes so wide, that it’s actually terrifying.

I could also see him being much more calm about it and making some obscure lie to make them go away like telling them you have a contagious disease and then forcefully coughing until they run away. He’d walk back to the base laughing his ass off too.

Law- I wouldnt say he gets jealous.. he gets irritated. He knows when someone is flirting with you and as long as they don’t take it to physical touching he won’t do anything. He trusts you and knows where you two stand but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t cause burning pain in his chest.

Bepo may point out what’s happening and he’s like:

“I’m aware. If they needed help they would say.” But it’s honestly taking all his strength not to strangle the person.

Sachi and Penguin might stir the pot and ask their captain what he would do if you were enjoying it, which was an awful idea. Now he’s slammed a hand on the table and clenching his jaw.

“They don’t.” He says through gritted teeth.

“But-“

One word. The one ‘but’ was all it took for Law to jump out of his seat, rush over to you and grab your hand into his roughly.

“Come on. We’re leaving.”

If you tried to hesitate he’d whip his head around and give you a stare. One you know that if you disobey you’ll be scrubbing the deck for the next week. So he’s taking you back to the ship and throwing you against his office door in a heated kiss.

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luveline · 4 months ago

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Hey lovely !! <3 could we see Spencer’s bombshell! Reader going into labour at the BAU but trying to downplay it like Pam did on the office !! (So sorry if you’ve already done a request like this) <333 have a lovely day ☺️

thank you <3 pregnant!reader, 1.3k

“Spencer?”

Spencer groans into his pillow.

Your hand slips onto his stomach. “Spencer, can you wake up?”

“No,” he mumbles, lifting his head off of one of the many pillows of your bed. He thought his bed at his apartment was comfortable, but Spencer has never slept so well as he does in your new bed, in your new home, with you warming the sheets beside him. What a miracle to live with you, the rush to get everything done before your due date complete.

You make a strange noise, hard to see in the dark as he opens his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

You struggle into a sitting position. Angel, he thinks sympathetically, you’re fit to burst, your baby bump as big as it’s going to get and awfully heavy. He sits up with you, putting his hand behind your back. “Baby?” he prompts.

“I think,” —you sound meek, not yourself, each word said reluctantly— “that I’m having real contractions.”

Spencer’s head isn’t working. He takes a few seconds to hear you, and then another few to realise what you’ve said. “Are you sure?”

“They’re really painful.”

Braxton Hicks (which you’ve had, and not enjoyed) aren’t usually really painful. They’re also irregular. “How many have you had? Has it been long?” he asks.

“Maybe five. They’re like…” You take his hand. “They’re like, they go on for ages. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“So you’re in labour,” he says, grasping your hand back. “Definitely. Let me get my watch, I need to time your contractions. Are you okay?”

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not in labour. I’m going in to labour.”

“It’s the same thing,” he says. He has boxes and boxes of mental knowledge explaining the difference, but he’s too excited to catch your strange tone. “I’ll be right back.”

He races from the bed to the bathroom where he’d left his watch. You should be having contractions far apart at this point, around fifteen to twenty minute gaps, but it could be much further or far sooner, and Spencer doesn’t know when you had your last. He needs to time them properly so he knows when to take you to the hospital.

“Good thing we packed your bag yesterday morning, huh?” he asks, sliding back into bed with a huge smile on his face. “And you showered last night, you’re ready to go. I have all our things in the trunk, but Morgan’s gonna have to come and do the car seat, I forgot all about it.”

You shake your head again.

He worries it’s from pain. “Is it starting?”

“No, no, I’m not having any. I think it’s just cramps, actually.”

“What?” He puts his hand on your bump. “That’s what they feel like, honey, it’s cramps, it’s your cervix contracting, it feels just like a cramp.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Spencer cups your cheek, his fingertips sliding softly to the corner of your eye, his thumb by your nose. You look younger without any makeup on, younger still with your creeping frown. “Hey,” he says, his voice half breath, hoping you’ll look him in the eye, “hey, what’s going on?”

Your eyebrows start to pinch down. “It’s not labour.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m not having her.”

“She had to come out some time,” he says, attempting to be funny and lighten the mood.

“I really think it’s fine. I’m just having those Braxton Hicks again, it’s too far from my due date–”

“Angel, it’s a week away. We knew it could happen now.” He strokes your cheek again. “We don’t have to go yet. Let me time a couple of your contractions and see what we’re working with.”

“It’s not…” You duck your head. The catch of pain gets you, and Spencer checks his watch. Four minutes past four in the morning, the longest hand at five seconds. Then he looks for your hand again to hold in his, his own panic backseated by your denial. “They’re not that bad,” you say stiffly.

“That’s good, honey, but they’re going to get worse. Remember what we said, huh? The pain will get really bad, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. We have a plan.”

“It’s not real.”

“Baby,” he says, tugging your hand imploringly to his chest, his voice having descended to a place it so rarely goes, “what are you scared of?”

“That I can’t do it,” you say.

“Is your contraction over?” he asks, noticing the laxening of your fingers.

“Yeah.”

He’s silent for a few seconds.

“Is there anything in the entire world that you can’t do?”

You sniff.

“Seriously. I can’t name a single thing you can’t do. This isn’t different. It’s going to be scary and painful, and it’s not something I want for you, not really, but you’re about to have a baby.” He rubs your thumb, ducking his head in the hopes that the movement will make you raise your own. “Our baby. We’ve waited such a long time.”

“Nine months.”

“Thirty nine weeks and two days. That's two hundred and seventy five days waiting. This is a good thing,” he says, meeting your eyes the moment you raise your head. “The waiting is over. This is the fun part.”

“‘Cos our girl is coming,” you say.

He grins. “Exactly! I know you’re scared, but thinking you can’t do it? Of course you can. And I’m gonna be with you the whole time.”

“You promise?”

“Of course I do.”

You wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands. Spencer lets his palm fall onto your thigh. It really is going to hurt. It’s gonna be pain like you’ve never felt before, and he’s terrified of everything that could go wrong, but what’s important now is making sure you know you’re going to be alright.

“You’re going to be a beautiful mom,” he says, rubbing your thigh, softer from time spent resting. “I’m so excited I can’t describe it. This time, the day after tomorrow, we could be here with her. We’ll be putting her down to sleep in the nursery in her newborn onesie we picked out, the–”

“Little rabbits,” you say, the hint of a smile on your lips.

“I can’t wait to see her face.”

“Her little fingers.”

“Her nose, her eyes–”

“You said babies have their moms hands.”

He smiles. “I have my mom’s. Can you imagine? And we get to find out today.”

You let him touch your stomach. “I know what you’re doing.”

“You always do.”

“I’m so scared.”

“Sweetheart, let me be the scared one.”

“You’re not gonna dilate ten centimetres!”

“You’ve probably already done one,” he says. “Just nine more to go.”

His joke doesn’t land. To his horror, you end up sniffling and locked up with panic. He rubs your back in long sweeps, feeling younger than ever kneeling in bed at your side, minutes droning on. He’s pulling your head into his neck thinking he’s completely out of your depth when you say, “It’s starting again, Spence.”

He checks his watch. “That’s eleven minutes.”

Your contractions will get worse soon, and closer together. You probably don’t have long until it starts, and labour might go on for hours. To do this, you're going to have to believe That you can.

Spencer takes your face into his hands and looks you right in the eyes. “You can do this. I know you can.” He pecks you gently. “Angel, if anyone in the world can do this, it’s you.”

You take a deep breath. He watches your nerves turn to determination, turn to love. “I know.”

“Is there anything you need me to do before we start getting ready to leave?”

You give a soft smile. “Kiss for luck?”

He’s gonna need it.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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luvlystarr · 5 months ago

Text

·········♡········· Prompt: The moment the 141 guys realized they're in love with you. Content: Fluff! (This was all rushed so don't expect it to be the best lol) ························

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick - In all honesty, Kyle has probably been interested since the day you two met. But when he decided to bring you along to his cousin’s birthday party, that's when it fully clicked in his mind. At first he just thought it would be a good idea to get you introduced to his family, you were his close friend after all. It just so happened that his nieces and nephews were there and as soon as they met you they were instantly hooked. Kyle never knew you were so good with kids and just people in general. His nieces and nephews kept playing with you, while his other relatives genuinely enjoyed chatting with you. The exact moment he realized he loves you was when one of his nieces asked you, “Do you like Uncle Kyle?” To which you responded, “Yeah, he’s a very special person to me. I like him a lot.” Of course you had to say those words with that warm, kind smile of yours, it got Kyle melting on the spot. Unbeknownst to you, he heard every single word and has been absolutely lovestruck since then.

John 'Soap' MacTavish - It was quite an odd moment. The moment he knew was when you two were up late at night watching every single Harry Potter movie out there. At some point, about halfway through the third movie, you just started rambling about the characters and story of the whole franchise, even covering little details about the books. Johnny didn’t even know why or how his mind began to think that way, but he just found it so attractive. Even to this day he doesn’t understand why you geeking out about the Harry Potter franchise was so captivating. Maybe it was the way you looked so focused, or how the tv was illuminating your features perfectly, probably your angelic voice too. Either way, he can’t stop thinking about you and he uses every chance he gets to get you talking about any of your interests.

John Price - He would probably never admit this but the moment he knew he’s in love was when the two of you were fighting. Both of you had a tiny disagreement on something but it ended up growing into a heated argument. For almost half an hour straight, you two just kept going back and forth, gradually raising each other’s voice and becoming more irritated. By the end it got so bad that you slammed your hands on the table and got snappy at John, yelling strings of insults at him. He should be just as angry, but no. In that moment he could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat. How could he get mad if you looked so cute with your pouty lips, furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms? He mistakenly let out a small chuckle at your attempt to be intimidating but he was met with a slap on his face. At that moment he knew that the only reasonable explanation why he felt that way was because he was head over heels.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley - You were the first person he actually got close with. Sure, he has Johnny and he's an amazing friend, but the bond he had with you was unlike any other. The two of you found solace in one another and always had each other's back. The night he knew it was true love was when you drove all the way to his house after a terrible day. You were sobbing endlessly as you rambled on and on about how crappy your boss is as he intently listened, even rubbing your back while handing you a cup of tea. After comforting you, he insisted that you stay for the night. He let you wear one of his hoodies and even let you sleep in his bed. You were hesitant at first but quickly gave in with how insisting he is. He remembered watching you sleep peacefully, all huddled up beneath the blanket. He had to admit, you looked adorable wearing his hoodie with that calm look on your face. That's when it dawned on him just how much he loves you. ········································································

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john price cod #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader #gaz x reader #gaz cod #john price #task force 141

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pathologicalreid · 6 months ago

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wavelength | s.r.

in which your son ends up in the hospital on one of the BAUs busiest nights of the year

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (hurt/comfort) content warnings: child in hospital with unnamed illness, seizures, pregnant!reader, boy dad!spencer, MRIs, head injury word count: 1.96k a/n: this is my little reid family from three's a family, but as usual, you don't have to read that one to understand this one. (it's one of the cryptic pregnancy ones so maybe keep that in mind lmao) - welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda, i missed it

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your thumbs enough to press the call button, tapping the green icon, you press your phone to your ear, listening to the rings as you keep your other hand on the bed in front of you.

Sniffling, Leo holds your hand in his much smaller one, “Mama?” His voice is little more than a whine, and you find yourself wishing he’d fall asleep while you wait for his turn in radiology.

“Yeah, lovey?” You whisper, squeezing his fingers gently as he looks at you with sad eyes.

His eyes were sad in a way that only a three-year-old’s could be, not quite understanding why he had to stay in the hospital, and continuously asking for his parents. “I don’t feel good,” he mumbles, his voice soft as he shifts on his side in the hospital bed.

Your shoulders slouch ever so slightly, trying not to show him how much of his displeasure you shared, “I know. I’m so sorry.” They were holding off on giving him more medication, but it just made him miserable.

Starting to wonder if they could just give him something to help him rest, you distantly hear your name being called, taking a moment to be confused before you remember that you called Spencer.

“Hey,” you greet a little breathlessly, “Are you working?” You move your hand, smoothing back Leo’s hair in an attempt to coax him to sleep.

You hear a shuffling of papers on the other end of the call, answering your question well enough before he responds verbally, “We’re just trying to finish a few things up before calling it a night.”

Bowing your head, you sigh, “Right, you have that senate review next week.”

Spencer groans at the reminder of the meeting, “And finding some of these files is proving to be difficult. I think Garcia’s just about had it, but we’re all starting to get to that point. Why the call? Not that I’m unhappy to hear your voice,” he clarifies. “Did Leo get to sleep alright?”

You falter slightly knowing that Spencer is already stressing about work, “Honey,” you start softly, “Leo’s alright, but I had to call an ambulance for him about an hour ago.”

“What happened? You said he’s alright?” He asks, fear changing the pitch of his voice.

Swallowing thickly, you watch Leo continue to fight sleep, his brown eyes watching you while you’re on the phone. “They think he had a seizure,” you whisper, keeping your voice down so that your son doesn’t catch onto your anxiety.

There’s a shuffle of papers on the other end, “Is he sick? Was it a febrile seizure?”

“Uh, no, hold on,” you flip through the pamphlet, “They called it a drop seizure when we were in the emergency room, and they did an EEG.” You explain, reading over the papers in front of you for the nth time.

Spencer talks to someone else in the room, hopefully letting them know that he has to leave, “What happened?”

Tears prick your eyes, and you look up into the fluorescent light to will them away, “I was just getting him ready for bed, and he went to go potty, and he just fell. He hit his head on the tub and I just… I panicked,” you admit the last part. “I was not very collected, and the 911 operator knew that,” you tell him, watching Leo’s eyes finally fall shut.

“I wouldn’t have been either,” Spencer assures you, “What hospital did they bring you to?”

Rattling off the name of the hospital, you risk assuming that Leo’s asleep enough for you to step back, enabling you to speak at a higher volume, “Can you leave work?” You weren’t even thinking about how busy the BAU was when you called, you were just thinking about getting Leo his dad. “They want to do an MRI, and he’s allowed to have someone in there with him, so he doesn’t get scared,” you explain.

“But you can’t,” Spencer needlessly reminds you.

A huff of frustration escapes your lips as you look down, eyes focusing on where your shirt catches on the soft swell of your lower belly. “No, I can’t,” you say miserably.

A nurse walks through the door, sparing a pitying glance at you, the pregnant mom whose toddler was in the PICU, before checking on Leo’s vitals. Spencer clears his throat, “I’m already on my way.”

You lose track of time, sitting in the reclining chair that lives in the corner of the PICU room, and memories of Leo’s first month of life start to flash in front of your eyes. He was a thirty-two-weeker, and he spent twenty-nine days in the NICU before coming home for the first time.

You felt like a failure then, and you feel like a failure now.

Tapping your fingers on your belly, you watch Leo sleep, his body curled up on the hospital bed and collodion stuck to his forehead. You remember finding out you were pregnant again, the overwhelming joy that mixed with the stunned fear like oil and water—Spencer had to remind you to breathe.

Something caught your attention, a small, high-pitched beep from one of Leo’s monitors sent a group of people flying into the room, standing around your son and listing off things that your fear-addled brain couldn’t comprehend.

He’s there when you stand up, Spencer stays at your side for all twenty-one seconds of Leo’s second seizure, watching as strength returns to his tiny body and his eyes open, “Mama?” His small voice calls out for you, afraid of being surrounded by doctors and nurses that he doesn’t know.

Slipping away from Spencer, you make your way back to the hospital bed, hovering over your son as you cup his cheeks affectionately, “I’m here, baby.” Hiding your face to wipe tears away, your fear that he still feels ill is only exacerbated by the fact that he doesn’t insist that he’s not a baby—he’ll always be yours, though.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you let him see past you, the way his eyes light up at the sight of his father, “Daddy!” He chirps, trying to reach out for Spencer.

“Hey, buddy,” Spencer says, his voice tight while he crouches in front of Leo, “Mama says you don’t feel good.”

Leo shakes his head, “I hit my head,” he recounts mournfully, “then we had to go in the loud car.”

Your husband frowns for a moment before he realizes Leo’s talking about the ambulance, “Did they tell you I get to go with you to get your tests done?” He warps the narrative to make the MRI seem like a fun activity—something they get to do.

“Can mama go?” Leo asks, tilting his head to the side slightly, leaning into you as he does so.

Gently, you wrap an arm around him, dressed in a pediatric hospital gown with all kinds of wires and electrodes attached to him. “Mama has to stay up here,” Spencer breaks the news to him, sparing you a sympathetic glance, “but she’ll be here when we get back. Then, we can tell her and the baby all about it.”

The baby won’t be able to hear outside voices until you’re much further along, but when Spencer tried to explain that to your toddler, the only response he’d gotten was Why?

As it turns out, even Spencer Reid has a limit to the number of questions he can answer, so you let Leo talk to the baby. “I’ll be right here when you get back,” you reassure Leo, taking a shaky breath when he wraps his arms around you.

He’s in tears by the time they come to get him, only willing to go to radiology if they let his daddy carry him there.

You’ve let go of the hope that this was all just a freak incident, but the looks that the nurses have started exchanging squashed that optimism immediately. Taking the opportunity to lie on the hospital bed, you try to reassure yourself—if Spencer didn’t seem worried, you shouldn’t be worried.

Though Spencer wouldn’t show his concern to you, he certainly wouldn’t do it with Leo in the room.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by something being set on your side, your eyes cracking open just enough to watch Spencer lay Leo down on the bed next to you. “Hey,” Spencer whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I was trying not to wake you up.”

Cringing at the brightness of the room, you watch Leo as he curls into your side, “How did he do?”

“He was great,” Spencer says, gently ruffling the sleeping boy’s hair. “He fell asleep about halfway through,” he informs you, carefully pulling a chair up to the bedside.

You hum, making sure Leo is snug in his blanket before turning back to Spencer, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner.”

Spencer shakes his head dismissively, “It’s okay,” he whispers, mindful of the hour—it’s nearing midnight now.

Reaching a hand up to cover your mouth, you hiccup a sob, “I’m a bad mom.”

“You are not a bad mom,” Spencer responds quickly, peeling your hand from your mouth and taking it in his hand.

Your lower lip quivers, “This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been born so early.”

Spencer’s face softens, squeezing your hand comfortingly, “That wasn’t your fault. That was a situation that you didn’t have any control over.”

Deep down, you know he’s right, but your mom guilt that was on the surface level made the truth hard to see. “I couldn’t even hold his hand while he got an MRI,” you cry, small tears falling from your eyes.

“Honey,” Spencer murmurs, carefully wiping the tears from your cheeks, “You’re pregnant. Even more, you’re high risk,” Spencer reminds you as if it’s something you’re soon to forget. “There’s no way I would’ve let you in that room. You can blame that on me if you’d like.”

Leo shifts next to you, garnering your attention for just a moment before you turn back to Spencer, “I thought an MRI was better for pregnant women.”

Sighing, Spencer looks at you fondly, “Compared to a CT, an MRI is the better option if it’s medically necessary. Logically, I’m well aware of this, but I do find myself more protective over you these days,” he admits, eyes flickering down to your bump.

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I should’ve been watching him before he hit his head.”

Your husband dismisses your concern immediately, “We’ve been teaching him privacy, he’s proud that he gets to go potty on his own.”

“Why won’t you let me feel guilty?” You ask, frowning at him.

He hums in response, “Because you aren’t guilty. Your baby is in the hospital, and you might have some unresolved issues from when he was in the NICU.” He takes a deep breath, “and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re tired, and you have a lot of conflicting emotions and hormones that you’re struggling with.”

Leaning your head back on the pillow, you sigh loudly, “You know me too well.”

“I also know that our son loves you, and what happened tonight was not your fault,” he reiterates. “Whatever is going on with him, we’ll figure it out, okay? The four of us are going to be just fine.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you nod in understanding and listen to the soft whistle of Leo’s nose as he exhales. “We’ll be just fine,” you echo, intertwining your fingers with Spencer’s and preparing yourself for what’s bound to be a long night.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid dilf agenda #written by margot

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redeemingvillains · 2 months ago

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of magic & mayhem - mattheo riddle

summary: the strongest wizard of your age also happens to be hogwarts' playboy, and when he sets his sights on you, you realize neither of you have a choice in the matter.

word count: 3k

a/n: this is like nine of my concepts all mashed into one! heavily influenced by my re-read of fourth wing in preparation for onyx storm coming out, anyone who wants to scream about that in my inbox, please do <3

The Great Hall echoed with the excited chatter of friends and classmates and the general cacophony of breakfast; the sounds of scraping cutlery and the clink of dishes and goblets. You and Pansy sat in genial silence as you read your book and she eyed the gossip column of the Daily Prophet.

You were so totally transfixed on your book that you didn't see the looming figure in front of you until he placed his hands on the oak table and leaned casually across it into your airspace.

"Good morning" he drawled smoothly in a deep voice that caused you to glace up only to see Mattheo Riddle's large amber eyes twinkling at you, matched with a smirk that made you feel like you had pixies in your stomach.

You could smell his cologne from this distance, an undeniable mix of woodsmoke, evergreen and cinnamon that made you feel heady.

"Pansy" he acknowledged, nodding at her as she glanced up at him with a surprise that matched your own.

"Mrs. Riddle" he said, acknowledging you as his electric gaze found yours. You felt a deep blush on your cheeks, even as your face scrunched in confusion and your eyes searched his face for a hint of a joke, finding none.

"What did you just call me?" you asked, cocking your head. As much as you tried to supress it, a small smile graced your lips, which didn't go unnoticed.

"What?" he said in mock surprise. "You don't like it? I think it's perfect."

A pause.

"It suits you" he said confidently. He winked at you as your eyebrows shot up and he turned and walked away without another word.

You turned to look at Pansy who was open-mouthed gaping after him before turning to look at you.

"What was that!?" she exclaimed, excited, like you knew something she didn't.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes despite the hammering of your heart in your chest.

"He's a complete flirt, Pans, I'm not putting a lot of weight in whatever he's woken up and decided to say today."

But even as the words came out of your mouth, you couldn't help but feel excited that you'd caught his attention, even if you knew how delicately dangerous it could be.

"But Mrs. Riddle?! Please. I am dying oh my gods!" she said.

"No, we're not even thinking about this. Not unless you want to listen to me cry myself to sleep in three weeks when I've completely fallen for him and he's moved on to someone else. We all know how this goes and I'm not stupid enough to fall for it."

Pansy pursed her lips as she bounced in her seat with excitement, like she was going to explode.

"Okay, but maybe, just hear me out—" she started.

"—No" you said emphatically, as much to her as to yourself.

She stuck her tongue out at you and you returned the gesture.

It was no secret you were sought after; you had your fair share of dates and suitors. And it was no secret that Mattheo Riddle took the concept of incredibly hot fuckboy to another level, which is why, despite his comment and increasingly insistent stares you kept your distance.

Try as you might to forget what he said, or the way his dark eyes had twinkled mischievously as they drank you in, you found your thoughts drifting to him more times than you'd care to admit, and he had no intention of making it any easier for you, because now every time he saw you, he made a point of using your new nickname.

"Good morning, Mrs. Riddle" he said as he passed you in the Great Hall the next day.

"Have a good day, Mrs. Riddle!" he shouted from the opposite side of the common room, which garnered a significant amount of attention and whispers.

"Let me get the door for you, Mrs. Riddle" he said, pushing your classmates out of the way to do so.

"Mmm, gorgeous as ever, Mrs. Riddle" he whispered walking by you in the library in a way that felt like the words themselves danced over every inch of your body.

Pansy was nearly inconsolable over the situation, egging it on eagerly and even picking it up herself.

"Good night, Mrs. Riddle" she said to you as you crawled into bed in your shared dormitory.

"Lay off it, Pansy! Gods" you replied, even as you grinned like an idiot to yourself.

But then she wasn't the only one.

After less than a week of it, the rumor spread like fiendfyre and now Mattheo's friends were smirking at you in the corridor, waving teasingly to you in the common room and offering you every ounce of preferential treatment befitting of the name: knocking Potter off his chair when he took your seat in Potions, forcing a first-year to stand outside your dormitory holding your favorite latte every morning, and ensuring you had a coveted first row seat at their quidditch matches, including the House Cup, which you were excitedly getting ready for when Pansy burst into your room.

"You will never guess what I just heard" she said, grabbing you by the shoulders.

"What's that?" you asked, humoring her frenetic energy.

"Astoria Greengrass having a sob in the girls lav. You know how she and Mattheo have hooked up a few times?—"

You didn't, in fact, know that and couldn't help the pang of jealousy that gripped your chest.

"—Well I heard her telling Penelope Clearwater that he says he doesn't want to anymore and he told Harmony Norman and Maria Warner the same thing!"

Your face tangled in disgust.

"How many girls is he hooking up with? And why do you look so happy about it? What a mess…" you said, sighing as you turned to resume your makeup.

"Why, all of a sudden is he breaking all of them off, hmm?" she said, cocking an eyebrow at you in your mirror.

"I don't know" you said shiftily. "Maybe he's trying to be a better person?!—"

"—Or maybe he has his eyes set on someone else?!" she said insistently. "You know, someone he's given a special nickname to, his name to?"

You opened your mouth to argue with her but you couldn't deny the logic of her statement.

The boys pulled it off, sweeping Gryffindor in the House Cup for the first time in years and the ensuing celebration was electric.

The music in the common room was loud enough to sway the chandeliers in the ceiling, to feel the bass vibrating in your body.

Every Slytherin you knew and quite a few friends from other houses were there, the normally cavernous room filled in a way that made it feel like some sort of night club, bodies covering every inch of space, melding and weaving between each other and raising the temperature of the normally dank dungeon air.

You couldn't help but search the flashing lights and otherwise utter chaos for Mattheo and you didn't have to look for long the way he stood a head taller than almost everyone in the room, even surrounded by his large teammates; not to mention the way they were walking around like kings, taking turns chugging champagne out of their trophy, raucous, rowdy and loud as people cheered around them.

Mattheo himself was in rare form, his handsome curls were slightly askew and his cheeks were rosy from the alcohol and general liveliness of the night. He was dressed in a fitted black tshirt and dark pants and was exuding an energy that was magnetic, even from where you were standing; undeniably, your heart thumped in your chest at the sight of him.

Had you gotten a little dressed up? Of course. It was a celebration, an occasion, why wouldn't you? But as you wound through the sea of bodies, fingers twined in Pansy's, you garnered enough stares and double-takes that had you thinking you may have slightly overdone it.

"Oh, okay queen!" Pansy had said the minute she'd seen your outfit, the way you'd done your makeup and styled your hair, knowing, perhaps, exactly what or who had been on your mind.

You stopped to grab a drink and your cup had barely touched your lips before two guys came up to you that you recognized vaguely from the year below you. They were admittedly cute and you smiled as they compliment you and chatted with you. You leaned in closer to hear them over the music and the crowd and the one closest to you ducked his head toward you when you felt a tingle run from the base of your neck down your spine and a large, warm hand wound its way around your waist, pulling you firmly backwards into what felt like a pliable brick wall. You were startled for only a moment until you caught the undeniable scent of evergreen, of cinnamon.

"Brian is it? Blake? Blaire? Why don't you go get a drink, buddy?" his voice rumbled near your ear, more of a command than a suggestion as Bradley's eyes shot up over your shoulder to the shadow looming there and nodded quickly, retreating.

"Aww" you pouted sarcastically as you turned around. "He was nice, we were having fun!"

You met Mattheo's eyes which were so dark they looked nearly jet black as they glared at you. Had he been jealous?

And like he could read your mind his lip twitched and he rolled his eyes.

"Even if he had a chance with you, which, let's be very clear, he doesn't, he wouldn't know what to do with it."

"And, let me guess, you would?" you asked teasingly.

"Care to find out?" he asked matter-of-factly.

You felt a wave wash over you from your head to your toes, your body tingling with his proximity, with the way his eyes met yours directly, unfaltering despite the myriad distractions around him.

Gods yes you thought, even as you bit your bottom lip, teetering on the edge of a decision you knew you couldn't come back from.

His eyes shamelessly fell to your lips and you suddenly realized that his hands had never left you as they flexed at your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin like he was holding onto you for purchase.

"C'mon" he said, not waiting for a coherent reply from you, which you may never have been able to form had he kept looking at you that way.

His hands left your body only long enough to tangle his fingers in yours and hold them tightly, pulling you behind him as he headed into the sea of bodies on the dance floor, weaving between some as others offered him a wide berth and a congratulations when they realized who he was.

Then, like he was moving in slow motion, he turned to face you, twining your fingers further in his as he pulled you into him, guiding your hand over his shoulder so you were flush to his chest, and his other hand found your waist again, his grip firm and unyielding as he held you to him as if you would argue or try to be anywhere but right here.

You could feel every dip and curve of his body against yours as you moved against each other in a way that felt perfect and also not nearly enough, even though you couldn't get any closer.

You let the hand on his shoulder wander to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling into the curls there and even though the music was loud enough that you could barely hear yourself think, you could feel as much as hear the growl that released in his chest as his hands tightened on you in a way you were certain would leave a bruise.

The lights flickered for just a second, and a few people stopped dancing and shouted but his eyes never left yours, the only acknowledgement he offered, a small grimace on his face, which made you want to kiss his lips back into his irritatingly perfect smirk.

He leaned in, pressing his cheek to yours as his lips hovered to your ear.

"You look stunning, Mrs. Riddle."

He leaned back and you could see his signature smirk gracing his lips again. You opened your mouth to reply as your eyes met his, but your head was swimming at this point. Everything was him all at once, his body against yours, taught and warm to your touch, his breath on you that smelled like cinnamon gum, his cologne, you felt yourself melting into him at his words, closing the only remaining inches between your hips as your hands came to his face and your noses brushed — and then the lights went out in earnest, drowning you in complete darkness.

"Fuck" you heard him mutter strongly before grasping your hand in his as he started to pull you through the imperceptible forms of people who were yelling and shouting, blazing a path through them, pushing people aside brusquely where necessary. He was on a war path and your feet moved quicky to follow him as he cleared most of the crowd and headed directly for the boys dormitory.

He pulled you into a maze of adjoining corridors before swiping his hand causing an approaching door to fly open as he pulled you in behind him. You were barely through it before he swiped his hand again and it slammed closed behind you, forcefully, the energy pouring off of him in a way that reminded you just how strong of a wizard he was, and exactly why absolutely nobody fucked with him.

He turned to you finally, his chest rising and falling as he gripped your waist and pushed you gently against the closed door with a thud. He let his other hand rest beside your head, caging you in. The look of lust on his face was still there, tangled with the same grimace from before, like he was angry, like he was holding something in.

"Mattheo...?" you whispered and he ducked his head away from you, his eyes squeezing shut as the hand at your waist squeezed again, the touch sending an electric tingle up your side that made you gasp.

His gaze came back to you and then he was leaning in, his nose brushing yours again and your hands came to wind around his neck. You caught a glimpse of a smile on his lips as they hovered over yours, barely grazing them, and you could feel static electricity there between you, the air itself alight with energy, vibrating. The temptation was driving you mad, your chest visibly rising and falling against his own and then his lips fell to yours, warm, soft and urgent.

He took your face in his hands and pressed you into the door and you hummed against him. The lights in the room flickered once, then twice, and then rapidly like you were in a horror film before they went out completely, drenching you both in a velvet darkness that was somehow welcoming, like you could feel the shadows themselves dancing over your body, caressing you, enveloping you.

You felt his tongue against your bottom lip and you opened up to him. Your tongued flicked against his and a freezing gust of wind blew papers, books and quills off his desk, hurling them to the ground with a clatter and bang. Mattheo never stopped, his tongue continued to glide over yours and he kissed you like it was the last godsdamn thing he'd ever do.

He hoisted you up so your legs wrapped around his waist and he pressed you back into the door before releasing your lips just long enough to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck that he lavished in a way you were certain there would be a violet bruise in the morning.

Your eyes fluttered in pleasure, lost in him for a moment until you caught sight of the room around you and you froze.

It was midnight black but for the moonlight coming through the window which cast everything in a ghostly shade of white, but what caught your eye was that every object in the room was floating, adrift in the air, the bed, the desk, the bookshelf, all hovering feet off the ground. Lightweight objects like clothing, quills and his books floated higher and higher and then you realized that it was cold enough to see your breath in front of you.

"Mattheo" you breathed, trying to get his attention. Your hand carded through his curls and the chair in the corner took flight.

Wait. Was this him?

"Mrs. Riddle?" he murmured in your neck.

"Mattheo" you said again, a stronger urgency in your voice causing him to relent and look up at you with a puff of air of his own.

"Fuck" he said. "It's – yeah. That's me. Well, that's you actually."

"What?"

"S'no secret that my magic is ... strong. And I'm well practiced at controlling it. With... one exception."

He took your hand and placed it over his chest where you could feel his heart hammering.

You searched his eyes and his eyebrow quirked until he gestured to his room. As if to say 'see?'

This boy had quite literally lost his control at your touch.

"Wait, the lights? The music?" you asked, a small smile on your lips at the realization.

"When you touched me, I just—" he shook his head, exhaling another puff of cold air. "—See what you do to me, Mrs. Riddle?" he said.

"Gods, when are you going to stop calling me that?" you laughed, even as you looked at him and traced a finger over his lips.

"When it's true" he said simply.

You looked confused for a moment until he leaned into you again, his magic radiating off of him.

"What?" you breathed.

"When you're mine, and it's official and I won't have to spend all of my free time reminding everyone you're mine, they'll know. Until then, I'll hedge my bets."

He kissed you.

"Mmpf, but what if I didn't want you to stop?" you murmured against him.

He pulled back to look at you, scanning your face for any sign of a joke, and finding none as your eyes connected with his and his lip quirked in a smile.

"Well, princess,” he whispered against your lips, ghosting them with his, teasing you before biting your bottom lip gently in a way that sent a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the freezing air.

“Whatever Mrs. Riddle wants—” he murmured, kissing you fully, luxuriously, “—Mrs. Riddle gets.”

ˋ°•*⁀➷ EPILOGUE

taglist: @kenjikishimotoswifey @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @chelawrites @loverliner

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle fanfic

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