#would they start to notice the differences | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

uravitypng · 1 day ago

Text

𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲

pairing: yandere satoru gojo x chubby reader

summary: at the beginning gojo made your life hell when he first sees you because you won't give him attention. then it all changes, he just hated seeing you cry and he'll use all his resources and power to love you and spoil you

word count: 14.7k words

a/n: okay okay! i'm back! with something incredibly longer compared to every other oneshot i've written. i started this before gojo's birthday but it just kept getting longer and longer, then came the holidays and then i got ill too but it's finally finished, yay! i hope you all enjoy this and of course like always make sure you read the warnings before reading x

content warnings: gojo is a yandere!! friends to lovers, hints of stalking, gojo manipulates everyone, mentions of breeding, fingering, rough unprotective sex, cumming inside, gojo calls her 'silly girl' in his head and thinks she thinks to much (kind of like 'you don't need to think or make decisions or earn money because i can do that for you'), dirty talk, dumbification, objectification(?), submissive reader, dominant gojo, petnames: princess, sweetheart, (good girl) (if i've missed anything please let me know because it's very possible with 14.7k words - mdni / 18+

everyone flocks to satoru gojo, girls and guys alike, they want his attention, if only for a second, and want to be noticed by him. he's the beating heart to every social situation, with an ability to draw every single eye in the room on him, feeding off the spotlight and admiration. whatever he wants he gets it, he has since he was a young child so why are you being so difficult?

there's not many who he considers his equal, if he had to pick out one it would be his best friend from childhood suguru geto, two families telling their children to talk to the other in hopes to form more connections. gojo remembers to this day being five years old dressed up in a suit that was too stuffy for any five year old to wear, taken to a party with his parents. everywhere he looked there were elites and politicians, anyone and everyone with power. he remembers the nudge his mother gave him towards suguru's direction, telling her son to make friends. others at the university are lesser than him, but they're entertaining for a short duration, before he gets bored of them and tosses them away for someone else, that is.

then there's the nobodies, the lowest of the low. uninteresting in every way possible with nothing to offer him, nothing to pique his interest and in terms of satoru gojo you're a typical nobody but even the nobodies look his way when they think people won't notice. even the really shy ones or the stubborn ones who always say how much they despise how everyone adores him will momentarily glimpse in his direction when they think no one's looking.

but you... you look right past him, and it pisses him off. do you think you're better than him? even people in long term relationships eyes drift to him, most would break up with their partner for just one night with him. this 'most' mainly means all, everyone wants a chance to be with the man whose sexual escapades are spoken about frequently in such a high regard.

it's not like you don't know about his existence, you do, but you want to keep yourself to yourself. even your closest friends talk about the famous satoru gojo but he gives you the shivers for some reason. you've never spoken to him and you don't intend to, even if it's everyone's dream, it's not yours, something's just not quite right about him. you live in completely different worlds, different universes, and you prefer to dream about things more realistic, maybe dragons and flying saucers on occasion but never satoru gojo. not only is associating with him unrealistic but just the thought of him makes you shudder. he's too cocky, too self-assured, too arrogant, too loud, too... attractive, it doesn't seem right that someone would look that good. it's like he's hypnotised everyone bar you.

first it's irritation when he notices your behaviour, it's clear when you're acting the complete opposite to everyone, then it's anger when he sees you pay attention to someone that isn't him. something must be wrong with you if you're laughing at a joke that he didn't make, a joke told by another nobody, not just a nobody but someone a year younger. his actions are fuelled by his anger and his annoyance towards you. he makes sure every friend and acquaintance you have stops talking to you, it's easy really. all those so called 'friends' leave you alone after 'overhearing' hushed voices talk about how gojo's more likely to talk to someone when they're not friends with someone who's like you. it was easy to orchestrate it, all he needed was two girls who constantly fawn over him, perfect for doing his bidding.

"gojo never talks to yumehara, even though she tries so hard."

"yeah, it's because she's friends with moriyama. associating with someone like her is a no-go."

"moriyama?"

"yeah, you know that girl in class a, the one who thinks she's better than everyone and doesn't care about gojo."

you now sit by yourself and walk the corridors alone- easy. if he was more sympathetic towards you he'd almost feel bad that all of your friends would stop talking to you so readily.

next was your grades. the gojo family funds the university meaning that he had much more power than the average person, even more than people who also come from wealthy families. professors know it's in their best interest not to get on the bad side of the heir of the gojo family, not just for the university's sake but for themselves as well. one wrong move and they'll be fired, blacklisted throughout town unable to get a job. one wrong move and the university could lose all their funding. he wields more power than the headmaster.

you already get average grades, typically b's and occasionally c's but if he plays his cards right he knows he can lower those c's another extra grade down to an f and he knows just who to start with. professor iura: a man in his mid-thirties who's respected by all and he knows you like him. he's been told you try extra hard in his class, taking double the amount of notes in his lectures than you ordinarily do. he knows getting an f in his class first would be more hurtful than over all the other classes.

"professor iura don't you think the girl who wrote the paper on-" he stops mid sentence, what did you write about again?- "something so boring it hasn't even sunk in. i remember everyone else's but not hers." he only remembers his own and there was never any reason to see what a nobody like you wrote about.

the professor's eyebrows furrow before quickly schooling his expression back to impassive. satoru has used his influence before but iura's never heard about him using it as payback for whichever poor soul's caught his ire. "who is it?" iura thought you deserved an a this time, it's disappointing that he'll have to give you an f.

all these things start stacking up and you feel like the universe is against you, you don't understand your sudden drop in grades or why your friends won't talk to you. you do your best to put on a brave face but you feel alone, you have no one to turn to, you don't understand why everyone gives you the cold shoulder and why they pretend you don't exist, your facial expression dropping when someone ignores you for the umpteenth time. you don't understand how your water always seems to spill in your bag all over your things even though you swear you've put on the lid securely, screwing the lid on the bottle so tightly your hands suffer the consequence, almost raw, from how tight you've tried to make it. you can't afford to buy another textbook and you don't have enough time to rewrite your essay.

you don't understand how things go missing every time you look away. you glance to the window when you see a falling leaf, burnt orange and crimson red litter the floor outside. autumn is so beautiful, a season of harvest and abundance but it's a reminder to you that nothing lasts forever, leaves fall and people leave. people talk about how autumn is maturing but omits the melancholy idea that it's just growing old, that burnt oranges and crimson reds are just rotting on the ground. your whole world is rotting with every second, the universe has it out for you and by the time you look back into the room your pen is missing.

gojo takes pleasure from seeing your face at these times, that puzzled look and biting your lip in frustration as you've lost another pen or that pout when your friend ignores you, he thinks it looks pretty on you. not that he'd ever admit that of course.

his pleasure twists though, into a new emotion- a darker emotion. you got another f and you look... sad... distraught. satoru enjoys seeing your pout when something goes wrong for you, he thinks it's pretty but he's watching you like a hawk right now, he can't take his eyes off you, he can tell you're trying desperately to hold it all together but you can't stop your eyes from welling up, it's impossible to stop your waterline brimming with tears, overflowing like a broken tap, hot tears running down your face, you attempt to quickly wipe your tears away with the back of your sleeve in hopes that nobody has seen but it's too late for that. he thought he would take pleasure in seeing you cry but instead it's pure rage. even though he's the one that's convinced all of your professors to give you f's, all he feels is fury for them making you cry. he doesn't want you to cry, he wants to keep you safe, wants to make you all his.

in the following weeks professors leave the university without announcing it to students. leaving studies and classes in a limbo for awhile. not just the professor who made you cry is gone but also iura and several others.

with that limbo period came more group projects to fill in the space of the lack of lectures. a 'little' push from satoru to higher ups and you were paired up together, leaving you no choice to spend time together and have your first conversation with each other. at this point he needed to be near you. you sit across from each other after class and you introduce yourself to each other, even though you both know who the other is, you didn't expect him to know you and he acts like he doesn't. "oh i know you, i really liked your last paper. you got an f, right? i can't believe that, it was the best one." after all your friends avoiding you and all those f's getting validation makes you shyly smile, your cheeks feel warm and you're starting to understand why people like him.

things start to change after that. your f's go back to normal and people are kinder, with everything going back to normal satoru makes sure you're still alone though, makes sure your friends continue not to talk to you. he's the only one that's allowed to do that. your friends still don't spend time with you, instead gojo does and honestly you don't mind that change, you appreciate that change, you don't know what happened with your friends but you like how gojo doesn't dismiss your emotions and opinions like they used to do.

you previously had that inkling that something was wrong with him but his easygoing smiles and playful words make you enjoy your time with him and his once overconfidence that you always used to observe which once bothered you now makes your heartbeat go crazy in your chest, like marching drums hammering away against your ribcage.

satoru notices this change in you and he takes advantage of it. this change doesn't make him lose interest in you, maybe if you were someone else it would but not with you, if anything it makes him more interested because he learns more and more without you, some with your consent and knowledge others without it. he thinks you look so cute when you smile and he loves hearing you laugh. he never really liked music but he's listened to all those music and songs you share to the world like the ones you love that you play in cars and talk to people about them, plus the more secret ones hidden in your likes and private playlists. he loves the things you do that you don't realise you're doing, the soft sighs you make when you put on a warm coat when it's cold or the hums when you drink a hot drink. how you bite your pen when you're deep in thought and linger by the door before leaving the house and locking up, mentally checking you have everything you need with you. the little moans you make when you eat something that you love, at those times satoru has to restrain himself from kissing you. he loves it all. he loves you.

you see each other whenever possible and if you can't you'll be texting, he'll send you emoji's at the end of messages that you don't understand the context to and will send you selfies and photos of cats he's seen while around town.

after the first few times at the library you tend to see each other at café because they're more relaxed and you can talk as loud as you want to. he starts paying for your lunch whenever you're together, you always used to insist to pay yourself but after the first few times you relented, he could buy you breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday for the rest of your life yet it still wouldn't make a dent in his wallet. not only does he buy you lunch now but it's much more extravagant then you could afford for yourself.

you're walking together past a store front window and gojo sees something that catches his eye, stopping where he is and pulling on your sleeve to stop you too. "look at this!"

your eyes scan the window not knowing what he's talking about, all of them are designer clothes but none of them are men's. "what are we looking at gojo?"

he grins and points to a blouse, "that would look so good on you, you'd look so cute!" 'doubtful' you think. you scoff, that is a cute blouse but no way. "hey, what was that for? it's true." he insists.

"i don't even need to go in there to see that it's way out of my price range, plus designer brands like that never have my size anyway."

"you didn't say you didn't like it."

"me liking or not liking it isn't the point."

you carry on the rest of your day like it didn't happen and you forget about the whole thing. gojo doesn't.

all of gojo's fans start to get jealous of you, it's been over three months, the limbo period is over and new people have been hired, group projects are finished but you still spend all your days together. his previous relationships have been no more than eye candy only lasting a couple weeks yet you don't even seem to be dating so why is he always smiling when you talk and is walking you everywhere. they can't comprehend it, you're a nobody.

satoru loses it one day. you've gone to hand in your library book, it's overdue and you had forgotten about it, you needed it for when you and gojo were working together but you forgot all about it. gojo's waiting outside for you, you know the librarian likes you more so you've told him it's better if you go on your own, he knows that isn't true but as long as the librarian is kind to you he won't intervene. 'if the librarian knows what's good for her she'll let it go and not upset you.'

someone gojo vaguely recognises as a cheerleader who suguru slept with a few times spots him and goes over to him, leaning against him and pushing her breasts up against him. it disgusts him. "what are you doing here gojo? don't tell me that friend of yours is making you wait for her." she says in a sickly sweet voice and his eye twitches. he doesn't reply, she should get the idea and leave. "if i were her i'd never do that. why don't you come hang out with me? me and my friends are having a party later we'd love it if you'd come. normally i wouldn't come up to you so boldly but i think i'd be able to show you a good time, not like that girl you're always spending time with, you're so out of her league." she runs her hand along his arm but he grabs it tightly making her wince.

"don't ever fucking talk about her again," gojo responds coldly. he squeezes tighter and she yelps. he lets go of arm and pushes her away, almost in revulsion that he touched her. she stumbles and leans against the wall, looking shocked. at that time you push open the door with a relieved look on your face. satoru ignores the girl, acting like she doesn't exist, he smiles brightly at you. "everything okay?"

"yeah, she was surprisingly very understanding," you return his smile and shut the door behind you. when you shut the door you see the girl leaning against the wall staring at gojo and you wonder why. you've seen lots of gojo's fans but none of them have looked at him like that. you turn your attention back to gojo, not really wanting to engage with the girl if you can help it, you've never seen her before but you can tell that she's someone who would make your life hell if you knew each other as teenagers. "is everything okay?" you ask him, vaguely gesturing to her.

he grins and strolls towards you lifting up his sunglasses and lifting up your chin to look at him, forcing you to make eye contact and in doing so you get flustered and frazzled. gojo would sometimes put his arm over your shoulder when your walking together or grab hold of you quickly from behind unexpectedly, making you jump but this is the first time it's ever been so intimate. it's also rare for you to see gojo without his sunglasses on. "everything's fine." he grins and pats your head jokingly making you glare and pout. he snickers as he sees your reaction and lets go of your chin, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

"alright, if you say so, but for lunch i'm getting extra for that, i'm not some pet." you grumble and walk off together. satoru's mind flashes with images with you on your knees, 'i think she'd make a good pet. maybe i should buy her a collar.' he snickers again and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "what's so funny?"

"nothing," he smirks. as you walk away he turns back around to look at the girl still standing there paralysed and glares hard at the girl. normally people would be swooning when they see his bright blue eyes like the clearest spring days but not right now, they'd all be wrong, his eyes aren't clear like any warm day they're frozen over and icy, with flecks of white and all that girl feels is despair and dread. he looks at her so cruelly, it makes her unable to move- frozen in place.

you haven't seen gojo for the last few days, it's the longest you've gone without seeing him since you became friends. even if you've both been busy previously gojo makes sure to have seen you, even if it's only for a minute, but you've both been too busy. gojo has had basketball practise in the day and in the night his family demands his attendance whilst discussing family affairs and you on the other hand have been busy studying, wanting to make sure you don't get any f's again. you don't realise you won't though, everything could be incoherent with each other word being spelled terribly and you'd never get an f again, gojo's made sure of that. he won't let anyone make you cry again.

you rhythmically tap your fingers, fidgeting on the table where your laptop and textbooks are, 'i want to see him.' satoru's scored another goal, this time a three point line goal, normally he goes for slam dunks but as long as he's the one scoring it doesn't really bother him. he's got a big game coming up and you're going to be there, you're going for him, you've never been to any of the games before, not having any real interest in the sport but now your friend is the star player so you're not going to miss any games. he'll score every single point his team makes so your eyes have no option but to focus on him and after the match you'll compliment him. the coach asks him something but it's all white noise to him, 'i miss her.'

you get a text on the fourth day of not seeing him and when you read the message you smile so wide your face becomes sore. 'the last few days have been so long without you! i know we normally go out for lunch but do you want to go for dinner?'

you don't hesitate responding, 'i'd love too!'

'i'll pick you up an hour before our reservations, i've brought you something.'

'reservations? did you plan tonight? and what's this about buying me something? you already pay for my lunch.'

'i've pulled some strings xoxo see you tonight.' you scowl when you read that he's blatantly ignored your comment about buying you something and if he's went out his way to pull some strings for this meal it must be more than a fast food drive-thru or the equivalent. you didn't really expect him to take you somewhere where you can eat in your car or it's acceptable to wear a three day old top and a hoodie that is a little too small but for him to go to the effort of pulling strings this must be a sophisticated place.

half an hour later you hear your phone again, multiple messages being sent one after another, five buzzes. 'shit.' 'I FORGOT' 'i forgot to send a time!' 'i'll see you at 6.' 'pretend this never happened.' you cover your face with your phone and giggle.

by six you're ready, it's taken you longer to get ready then you'd like to admit but you wanted to look pretty, it would be embarrassing to underdress. compared to gojo anything you or any 'normal' person would wear looks cheap in comparison to all his designer clothes but you spent hours making sure it would be suitable.

it's ten past six when you hear a knock on the door. opening it you see gojo in all his glory, his attractiveness on full display and his wealthiness showing, wearing an all black giorgio armani suit with a white shirt underneath, his sunglasses look different than normal, fancier, you think you can make out a ray-ban logo. he's wearing a rolex watch which is more than double your monthly rent. his hair looks shorter than the last time you saw him, he must of had a haircut in the last few days. it's obvious the way your eyes linger on him, checking him out and gojo grins as you unknowingly fuel his pride and ego.

"awe, you look so cute princess," gojo says playfully, smirking. princess- the first time he had called you that you malfunctioned, your eyes had widened and you forgot to breath. no one else has ever called you a term of endearment before and you didn't expect your friend, satoru gojo, to be saying it. you didn't ask why he called you it, why would you? it made your fingertips tingle and the inside of your chest to warm up. "can i come in?" you nod your head and move to the side to give him enough room to come in and close the door after him. "you really do look beautiful," he says gently, you don't think you've ever heard him speak so tenderly before.

"you look good too gojo, you always do but- but tonight as well," you tell him, bashfully smiling. he grins and his eyes gleam with glee at the genuine compliment. he loves when you compliment him, it feels different than the vapid ones others offer him, even if you compliment him with only a few words it means a greater deal.

behind his back he's carrying a sleek black box with a scarlet red chiffon ribbon wrapped around it in a bow containing his gift to you, your eyes narrow when he hands it too you, although your voice is soft and quiet when you say, "it's not my birthday gojo, why are you buying me things? you don't have to do that," your voice gets quieter with each word spoken.

gojo takes your hand in his and places the box in your hand. "i can buy you things because i can. i have enough money and i want to spend it on you," he tells you firmly and your stomach flutters with butterflies but you don't know why, his hand is awfully soft maybe that's why your heart is racing or maybe it's because he spoke to you firmly like there's no room for arguments. gojo cups your cheek with his unoccupied hand and strokes it, your whole body melts at the action, "just open it 'kay?"

you nod your head and hum, relenting- just like you did when he began paying for your lunch. you delicately unwrap the bow, not wanting to ruin the box, and open it, you didn't know what to expect, you could of been given a hundred guesses and a hundred days to guess what he brought you and you still would have no clue. you pause as you open up the lid, your heart skips a beat and it's almost as if the air was stolen from your lungs like deflated balloons as you breathlessly say, "satoru! what's this?" inside the box is the blouse you were looking at all those weeks ago, the one you said was too expensive, the one you said would never fit.

'satoru' it's the first time you've ever called him by his given name and it sounds so angelic coming from your lips that he's forgotten to breathe, everything pausing and not moving. "do you like it?" he finally asks.

you nod your head in an almost daze, you're in awe that he'd really give you something so beautiful, that he would go out of his way to buy it. "i- i don't deserve this gojo."

he steps closer to you, "uh uh, what's with calling me gojo again?"

your eyes widen as you realise that only a second ago you called him by his given name, "oh! i'm so sorry! i was just in shock, i didn't mean to call you that gojo," you ramble.

he smoothed out the wrinkles of his forehead rubbing it with his fingers, which is currently caused because he finds your lack of awareness disconcerting. "that isn't what i meant princess, i want you to call me satoru. i want to give this to you."

"oh... okay," you're quiet and you've pressed your lips together to stop yourself from smiling. it won't be hard to start calling him satoru, you already call him satoru in your head. after a long pause of you trying to put your thoughts all together you start speaking again, "are you sure about this satoru? this is bound to be expensive, right? it's- it's ralph lauren isn't it? isn't this too expensive too be spending on me." gojo has to hide a smirk at that, 'has she forgotten how rich i am?' "and, and i don't want you to think that i want to spend time with you because you have money or anything!" 'ah she's adorable, i could just cancel our reservations and have her on her knees the whole night to say thank you for the blouse... i couldn't do that though, not right now... if i don't see her in that blouse in the next five minutes i'll go insane.'

"of course i'm sure about this princess, i know you'd never spend time with me for clothes from ralph lauren." he resists the urge to pull you in by your waist and kiss you, he doesn't want to overwhelm you, not at this moment.

you take the blouse out of the gift box and hold it out in front of you, there's a twinkle in your doe eyes as you look at it in wonder, knowing that this is yours, whispering, "pretty," it's barely audible. "wait, i didn't think this store went up to my size? did you go to a different store? and... how do you know my size." you ask him confused.

"i have my ways," he answers and winks at you, you scoff at the wink and narrow your eyes.

"seriously satoru," you press him. 'ah she could ask me anything and i'll tell her if she keeps calling me satoru.' "actually i know you know my size from when you've seen my coats and jumpers lying around but-" 'oh yeah... that's totally how i know...' "- how did you get it in my size?"

"annoyingly they don't actually make that particular blouse in your size... how ridiculous is that, sadly i don't have enough money and connections to make them ruined and bankrupt." he says nonchalantly, casually waving his arm around. you bark out a laugh thinking that he was joking. he wasn't. if even one article of clothing isn't made in your size it should only be fair for the brand to lose all their money and reputation, no matter what the brand is.

"hold up how do i have this if it doesn't come in my size?" you cock your head to the side quizzically and for the second time gojo thinks about buying you a collar, maybe with a matching lead...

he grins and flicks his eyes back and forth between your face and the blouse you're holding up. "obviously i got it custom made,"

"that's- that's obvious?!" you splutter and he laughs.

"obviously." he reiterates, enjoying your reaction- dumbstruck and lips parted in near disbelief.

"it'll take us thirty minutes to get to the restaurant princess and our reservations in about forty minutes." he lets you know and you snap out of your stupor.

"i'll just get my bag."

"hang on!" satoru rushes out before you can leave to get your bag. "you look beautiful right now princess but don't you want to see how that blouse looks on you?" you shift your weight from side to side, heat rising to your cheeks. 'do i really have time to get changed? i spent so long choosing this outfit too.' before you can say something gojo stops you, not wanting to give you an opportunity to say no or think to hard about it. he wants you to do it, you don't have to have an opinion on the matter, leave that him. sometimes you can't be trusted when it comes to these things. "come on princess, i'm the one who brought you it. just wear it, please. i want to make sure it fits properly."

you yield, "okay let me go get changed."

satoru smirks, 'good girl.'

as you come back out of the bedroom adrenaline bursts through his veins. you twirl around, pausing when you circle back round to gojo and picking up the hem of your skirt playfully with one hand and doing a half curtsy, it's such a happy coincidence that the blouse pairs so well with the skirt you're already wearing, "how do i look?" 'beautiful, stunning, breathtaking, ethereal.'

"perfect," he replies dreamily and you giggle, thinking he isn't being serious and is exaggerating.

"i'm serious satoru," you tell him, it was meant to sound firm and like you won't back down until you get an answer but it just turned out sounding a little whiny.

gojo smirks and leisurely saunters to you, stopping when coming up close in front of you, "you look truly beautiful sweetheart." 'sweetheart' he's never called you that before. you don't know if your heart can keep taking it all. satoru's your friend, your close friend, but at times like this it's hard to remember that.

you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling- admittedly unsuccessfully. the corners of your mouth still quirk up and your round cheeks become more predominate. you fight the desire to cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, instead opting to twiddle your fingers. "sh-should we get going?"

satoru grins at you, "sure thing."

the whole drive you're both stealing looks at each other when you can get away with it while making small talk and satoru's not letting you know where you're going saying that it's a surprise. whenever there's a red light gojo takes his time to admire you and as you step outside into the night you're astonished at the restaurant in front of you. satoru's handing his car keys to a valet to park his car but you're distracted from that, finally knowing where you're eating tonight. you know this place, well you know of this place. never in a million years would you have thought you'd be dining here, it's so lavish that the cutlery is more expensive than buying a house that's already furnished. "are you okay princess?" you snap out of your daze and nod your head. "alright then, let's go inside."

you follow closely behind gojo, nervous as you enter, you don't think you've ever felt more out of place. satoru doesn't even give his name, the man at the desk recognises him straight away, "ah mr. gojo if you'd follow me." the man leads you upstairs and you hear him asking satoru questions but all that's going through your mind is 'please don't trip, please don't trip.' you're quite accident prone and falling down these stairs would be too much to handle. he takes you all the way to the fourth floor and near the window where you can see the city lights shining below. "here you are."

when the man leaves satoru pulls out a chair for you and you're startled by the gesture. you take your seat and he takes his. "you're more gentlemanly then i expected you to be satoru, pulling out my chair for me," you pause for a second mulling your thoughts over before adding, "or is that normal etiquette?"

"i'm very chivalrous, i'll have you know," he replies pouting and you raise an eyebrow at how fake his answer sounded. he throws his hands up with a smirk, "well, i'm not always chivalrous but if a pretty lady is in front of me than i can become very courteous." you chuckle, trying not to hone in the pretty part for your own sanity.

you glance at the table and worry because satoru might know proper etiquette but you don't. you know the general rules and ideas but why are there two knives and forks next to your plate and a spoon as well? why are there two glasses, a wine one and a normal one? why does the napkin look fancy? does that mean it's just for decoration, what if you need it? you're worried that you'll leave smudges in places where there shouldn't be and what if the table cloth rips? maybe this was a mistake...

"hey," satoru says softly catching your attention, when you look back up at him you see his smirk has turned into a frown and you don't think you've seen that expression on his face before, it doesn't fit right. he's taken off his sunglasses and placed them down, hanging them out of his suit pocket. his striking baby blue eyes glinting when the chandelier droplets move in the light. his snowy white hair looking soft and subdued under the glow of the light and the wavering flame of the candle. "sweetheart, whatever you're thinking right now isn't true."

"how did y-"

he cuts you off before you can finish asking. "because i know you and i know that look on your face, that overthinking look, i can see all those unnecessary cogs turning in your brain."

"i just..." you look away from him, not wanting to look into his eyes any longer knowing you'll crumble but gojo's not allowing that. with how long his arms are it's not difficult reaching over the table to you, placing his fingers below your chin and tilting your head around to look at him.

"just what? sweetheart." satoru presses you.

bunching up your skirt into tight fists you take a shaky breath and try again, "i'm worried i don't belong here. this is a really lovely place satoru and i just... what if i embarrass you? i'm not like you, i don't know when to do certain things or say specific things, i don't know why the table is placed like it is or any of it," after the words stop spewing out your mouth you take another breath, this time not shaky and deep. you look relieved to get it out.

'silly girl.' "do you really think i'd get embarrassed because of you sweetheart? nothing you could do would make me embarrassed. i'm lucky that you're with me right now. i don't care if you don't know all the rules and you shouldn't either, all that matters is that we're here together and we get to finally see each other after some hectic few days," gojo tells you earnestly, his body close to the edge of the table, leaning forward further near you, his voice low and intimate, like what he's saying is a complete secret for your ears only. the days were hectic and finally you're getting to see each other. those tedious meetings with his family and hours of basketball that seemed to stretch on and on but finally- you're together again.

your shoulders sag, you weren't even aware that your plush figure had tensed up in the first place. when satoru saw how you relaxed your posture he picks up one of the menus, "everything okay now?" he asks you, his eyes soft as they gaze at you.

"yeah, i think so." you lick your lips, wetting them after getting dry, the intense spike of emotions throwing your body threw a little bit of a loop, dry lips, moist eyes, with shaky fingers.

gojo grins and leans back on his chair, seeming more casual than a minute ago and hands you a menu. "what are you thinking about getting? i might go for the lobster."

you're browsing the menu but when you hear him you put it down momentarily to reply, "oh please, like you care about the lobster, you just want dessert," you say grinning wide.

gojo gasps and places his hands on his chest in mock offence. "dessert? i think you mean desserts." you laugh, eyes crinkling in amusement. "i want you to enjoy this meal just as much as i'm planning to, that's why i intend to get the lobster, i don't want you to feel like you have to rush while eating just because i want dessert and i don't want you to even think about a silly thing like money." 'so he's ordering one of the biggest and expensive dishes? ...that does sound like satoru actually.' although you would be none the wiser about the prices of these meals, it's one of those high-end restaurants that doesn't have the prices on the menu, satoru must have been here often enough to know how much the lobster costs compared to other dishes.

"i don't know what to do about drinks, i hear they've got a fine collection of wines, maybe we should order a couple bottles? do you like wine?" he already knows the answer to that but you don't know that. "they've also got a wide selection of spirits and non-alcoholic drinks too, i believe."

you both order what you want, making idle conversation while waiting.

by the time your food arrives satoru has tried to convince you that you should've ordered a bigger meal, you're content with your choice in the end though and it's not the most surprising that when your food does arrive there's also a side dish for you to which you didn't order.

"i didn't order this satoru," you raise an eyebrow.

gojo smirks, "i know you didn't, but i did. i didn't want you to be hungry and we haven't had lunch together in days have you been eating properly?"

"are you suggesting that because i'm eating food in my price bracket instead of yours that it's not good enough? the food you pay for is definitely better but poor people food taste good too."

he chuckles and smiles at you fondly before replying, "that's not what i'm saying and you know i'm not. I am however asking have you been eating three meals a day?" you wince. "i thought not."

"i've been busy with studies, i didn't have time to eat three meals a day every single day," you try to justify.

"that's exactly what i mean. i won't take any excuses though, you shouldn't have skipped any meals." satoru lightly scowls you but don't take it too seriously, you should have though. 'silly girl, she really can't look after herself properly. it's a good thing i'm here to keep an eye on her. she just can't be trusted on her own.'

you pout at his reasoning, it's not often that gojo reprimands you or anyone you've seen for that matter. knowing that you don't have a leg to stand on you keep quiet.

when you eat the first bite of your food you hum blissfully, so close to being a moan and it's music to satoru's ears, 'god she's adorable.' he doesn't even realise that he isn't eating until you noticed that he's unmoving. "satoru are you okay? you're not eating."

"i'm fine sweetheart just thinking about something," he responds with a smile.

"okay- if you're sure but make sure you eat soon or it'll get cold."

"yes ma'am," satoru gives you a cheeky smile and picks up his fork.

your face heats up in embarrassment and you lose any composure that you previously had. you avert you eyes and focus on the tablecloth, suddenly finding it very interesting, focusing on the material. you never knew being called something would make you feel so strange, it was the complete opposite to gojo calling you princess or sweetheart.

even though satoru picked up his fork and began eating he didn't take his eyes off you at the corner of his eye, he wanted to see your reaction to that name. he wanted to test how docile you are, his theory that you are submissive and it seems he was right, although even if he wasn't and his theory was proven wrong he'd just mold you into what he wants. 'of course she's so perfect that i don't need to change her, she's such a good girl.'

quickly ma'am leaves your head with the more delicious food you have but you can't help some negative thoughts enter your mind. everything starts to feel too good to be true, the twinkling lights and the flickering of the candle on the table, the scenery and the ambience, the delectable food and the amazing beverages, the dream company with someone who you care so very much about, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else and... it just all feels too good to be true.

'how many girls does gojo come here with? they knew who he was without giving his name. i know i'm not his girlfriend. it's not like i'm jealous it's just- i want this so bad to be special. am i one in a long line?' you have to ask, you have to know. if you're not special you need to know.

"satoru-" you start by getting his attention.

he looks up at you and sees the pensive look on your face, he puts his cutlery down and ceases eating, directing all his attention to you, "yes princess?"

"can i ask you something?" you ask, hesitant and more meekly now you have his attention.

"of course you can princess," he smiles and waits for you to ask whatever it is. he truly doesn't know what it could be right now.

"am i special? i mean- wait- not special. i mean do you take lots of girls here? they seemed to know your name already so do you? i know we're friends so it wouldn't be the same as you taking other girls here but do you take lots of girls here?"

he doesn't even try to stop the smirk that creeps onto his face, you're jealous and what's even better do you even know that you're jealous. satoru can barely contain his excitement.

not once have you brought up other girls, not once. you've never asked if it's true that he doesn't date anyone for longer than a month or that he's gone through half the school. you've never asked about the crude gossip about how big his dick is and how he's the best anyone has ever had even though he knows you've definitely heard those rumours. but right now? right now your words hint of jealously and insecurity.

satoru tells the truth as he replies simply "i haven't brought any girls here." gojo dangles the small piece of information in front of you, it isn't a question of if you'll take it and ask further questions he knows you will but he wants to hear you ask for more, it thrills him.

"you-you dont?" you ask for more explanation.

he grins, "nope," he pops the 'p'. "i go here with my family and on occasion suguru but only sometimes with suguru because it can be kind of intimate with two people," he explains and you giggle at the thought of the two of them sitting across from each other here. he carries on his explanation, "i would never go here with other girls, of course you're special," he tells you honestly and your lips part, hanging onto every word spoken.

'i'm special.' you press your lips together but the corners of your mouth still manage to lift up into a small smile. your brain then fully catches up with everything he said and your heart beats erratically, just now satoru said a dinner here between two people is intimate, he didn't word it in that exact way but if a dinner for two with suguru is intimate, a dinner for two with you might be considered intimate too. overall you're pleased with the answer you were given, gojo thinks your special and he doesn't take other girls here.

you eat the rest of your dinner without incident, enjoying every single mouthful and letting gojo know that it's tasty, thanking him. when you order dessert it's no surprise that satoru goes a bit overboard nearly buying the whole dessert menu, not that you would ever complain about a thing like that, the more time you've spent with gojo the more of a sweet tooth you've become yourself.

satoru doesn't attempt to hide the bill, he enjoys the look on your face when you see the amount in the corner of your eye. for him the money is trivial sum but to you it's shockingly high. he gets a power trip when he sees your eyes widen at the money.

"do you want to come back to mine?" satoru asks you while you leave the restaurant and you agree not thinking anything of it. he's been to yours before but you've never been to his. you don't think there's anything behind his question, you don't even consider he's suggesting something and gojo's well aware that you don't realise.

you don't speak much on your way back, you're leaning against the window and watching the city lights, it's starting to drizzle and you feel at ease in your current company, your eyes fluttering, slightly drowsily, as you hear the rain. gojo taps his fingers on the steering wheel and smiles thinking about how adorable you look right now.

the journey back to satoru's could've taken ten minutes to an hour for all you know as your mind wanders and your eyelids get heavy. when you arrive and he parks up and you get out of the car, you shiver a bit as the cold air hits you, giving you a shock and getting rid of any lingering tiredness and satoru walks around the car to be next to you. he pouts as he bends down to look at you, his sunglasses still in his jacket pocket, "pretty ladies aren't just supposed to have their chair pulled out for them, they're meant to have doors open for them too."

you giggle and bump against him, "flattery will get you nowhere mister." it does. luckily you'll be able to blame your flushed face due to the bitterly cold if gojo questions you on it.

"let's get inside sweetheart, it's cold." 'sweetheart' something else you can luckily blame on the weather. you're not expecting satoru to randomly touch your face though so you think you're going to be okay.

you follow him inside and the size of his place is a large as you thought it would be, you're learning to expect everything he owns is extravagant. the interior however is something you take note of, you've only entered one room but it seems barren. the walls are drab, painted slate grey and off white with only the bare necessaries of furniture and nothing more. devoid of any human presence. you're not even sure if he's lived here long and when he looks at you he can see those unnecessary cogs turning in your head again. "is something on your mind princess?"

"um-" you don't really know if you should bring it up but your curiosity gets the better of you. "have you lived here long?"

"a couple of years," satoru leans against the wall and smirks.

"i just- there's not a lot of stuff in here, it looks like you still have unpacking to do."

he pushes himself off the wall and goes over to you, "do you think i should get more stuff? like cushions for the the sofa and posters on the wall?" you feel gojo's breath against your skin as he leans down to talk in your ear quietly, it's so intimate, your mind draws a blank finding it hard to think with him so close to you. satoru is playful and he's teasing and you've heard rumours that he's a flirt but he's never been this close to you before, you've never been able to smell his cologne and been this close to feel his warm breath against your neck. "maybe we should go shopping together and you could help me pick out some stuff?" you're holding your breath, not being able to breathe anymore. "or maybe it would be better if you just stayed here and brought your stuff along? you do always complain about your rent being high."

you take a sharp intake of air and move a step away from him so you can look back at him in the eye. mentally shaking your head to forgot about his remark. 'did gojo just say about me being his roommate? i'd get to see him everyday... wait... i'd have to hear him all the time when he brings home girls and does he even clean after himself properly?'

"did you have too much to drink tonight satoru? you know you shouldn't drink and drive," you reply with light tone, reminding yourself not to think too hard about the situation, almost being successful in your mission.

satoru just watches you and smirks as he sees you try to ignore his comment. "anyway i don't think you need a roommate." 'roommate? yeah i don't need one of those...'

"and for all i know you might steal my food from the fridge and not wash up the dishes. plus i always forget my towel when i shower." you say the last sentence flippantly, but satoru's mind fills with thoughts of you... 'walking out of the shower into the living room with a small towel on, barely covering your body, body damp with water dripping down your neck, onto your shoulders down to the valley of your breasts...' he's getting hard just imagining it.

"are you okay satoru? you're a bit red." you question and the topic of conversation changes.

satoru moves back away from you, "i'm okay princess, probably thirsty. do you want a drink?" he's glad of this change, he'd like to tease you more but there'd be a real chance you'd see his erection, he could probably tease you about it if you'd notice it but he doesn't think you're ready yet. he wants to make sure you're relaxed and comfortable. you've got a long night ahead of you.

"sure."

following him into the kitchen you take a seat on one of the kitchen counter stools. "what would you like to drink?"

not wanting to ask for something he might not have or cause a fuss you respond with, "whatever you're having is good with me."

'she's so predictable.' he pours both of you your favourite drink, he knows all your preferences, of course he's stocked up on everything you like. he hands it to you and you smile wide, "this is like my all time favourite drink, i didn't know you liked it too."

in situations like this he switches his answers up from time to time not wanting you to get suspicious. "do you like these too? the amount i get through weekly is crazy." he makes sure to separate things into two categories, things you've told him and things you haven't but he knows anyway. he wouldn't want to mention in conversation about how he remembers that you like these drinks when you've never told so.

satoru likes when he tells you things that subtly suggest, 'look how much we have in common. we like all the same music and drinks!'

he prefers when he tells you he remembers something you told him, you quietly replying to him once about how much it means to you because "no one has ever cared about me to remember something so mundane about me." he swears that he'll remember everything about you, he swore he'd never forget a single thing.

gojo takes his place next to you, sitting on the stool and purposely brushing his hand against your rib, under your breast, and he gets pleasure from seeing you straighten up your back.

you both enjoy your drinks and kick your legs in the air. "i feel bad because you've been driving me around all night. when i go i'll get an uber or cab or something."

gojo frowns, "are you going now?"

"n-no! unless you want me to?" you don't want to overstay your welcome and you have a feeling that if gojo wanted you to go he'd let you know and you want to look around the other rooms if you have a chance, perhaps not his bedroom for privacy reasons but you want to see if his other rooms have plain decoration and if the bathroom has any noteworthy products in, you have always wanted to know how his skin looks so good all the time.

"i'm definitely not telling you to leave princess... in fact why don't you stay the night? you can stay in the spare room. no pressure though. you don't have to but there might not be anywhere you can get a lift because of how late it is and how it's the other side of town adding that all onto it's now pouring down. i'd offer to take you back myself but i'm not a huge fan of driving in the dark, especially if the roads are slippy 'cause to the rain. it's your choice. i'm sure you'll get someone to take you eventually but it might be less effort to stay here and leave tomorrow?"

he knows you don't want to wait forever getting home, he knows you want to take him up on his offer but something is stopping you, he doesn't know what is it for a moment until he figures it. "it's absolutely no bother, i don't mind and i've got clothes that you can wear, i think i wore them to lounge about in on tuesday so i haven't had time to wash them yet but i don't think that's a huge problem. i wear them a lot but they're too big on me, you should fit in them."

that small comment might have upset you more if it came from someone else but you don't think gojo meant it maliciously, you think it came from a good place, however you couldn't help thinking about it, the words 'they're too big on me, you should fit in them' ring around your head, about how you should fit in them. you know that satoru didn't mean anything by that but you've never worn someone else's clothes before so it gives you a bit of anxiety and satoru can see that.

gojo speaks again in an attempt to stop you from other thinking. "if you did want to go i'll give you the money to get a cab but if not you can stay, it's no problem, in fact i would enjoy it." your eyes snap up to look at him and you see a soft smile adorning his face. "we could watch that new film you were telling me about and i don't mean to brag but my shower is amazing, nothing compares, even five star hotels." you crack a smile but your mind still lingers on the clothes. satru can see that still not fully convinced and there's something stopping you, "is this about the clothes?" you shift your eyes away nervously not wanting to admit how you clung to a few words. gojo stops himself from sighing in exasperation. "if you'd feel more comfortable keeping the blouse and skirt on you can, you do look good in them but you shouldn't overthink about wearing my clothes. i know i said they're not clean but i've only worn them once since they've been washed it's not like they're diseased." you giggle and satoru gets less exasperated after hearing you laugh.

"they'll fit you if that's what you're worried about and honestly even if they are a little tight you'd still look good in my shirt, it would just hang onto your hips a bit." your mouth parts, the previous throwaway remark being swiped away like smoke by his hand, instead being replaced by insurance that it will fit and if by the off chance it doesn't then it's not the end of the world. he hopes it doesn't fit.

it quells your mind and you agree to stay. "thank you satoru, i'd appreciate staying, over the hassle of getting home."

he grins at your answer, hands itching to take off your blouse. "do you want a shower now so we can watch that film?"

"sounds good." you follow him into the bathroom and it looks like the living room, crystal clean, newly moved into, the only difference is his electric toothbrush on the side and moisturiser. gojo doesn't leave when he shows you into the room, he doesn't leave when he makes a quick explanation about how the shower works, in fact he didn't tell you at all. instead of telling you he turns the shower on, adjusting the handle to change the temperature to the one you prefer and pressing a button next to the handle, keeping his finger on it for a few seconds before removing it, changing the water pressure. "here you go princess," he grins and turns back to you. you think to yourself about how you could of figured out how to work the shower but you don't vocalise it, you've been in enough showers to know how they work but satoru's one is probably different if he did it himself.

"oh, the shower wash and shampoo is there, i don't know if you want to wash your hair but it's there if you need it. you'll have to use my one." he then leaves, before placing a towel on the sink for you to grab when you get out. he owns all the soaps and scents you use but you can't use them, he doesn't want to share. if he gave you them you'd be suspicious and there would be less for him to use when he misses your smell, groaning in the shower after he gets home from basketball his hands massaging your shampoo into his scalp, one hand in his hair the other fisting his cock. he'll buy you new perfumes and soaps for the holidays, he would never change any of your signature scents but you deserve more expensive products in his eyes.

a part of you still can't help but think about the clothes but when you step into the shower your eyes close and body relaxes, somehow it's the perfect way you like your showers. all of it melts away and as you pick up gojo's shower wash your body heats up inside. you're going to use the same soap as gojo uses and once you recognise how you reacted you shake your head to get away from all those thoughts. everybody at your university would likely have the same reaction as you but you're not just anyone, satoru is your dear friend and he deserves more respect than you just gave him. you don't spend long showering, wanting to not use his soap for a long period and you end up not washing your hair.

you dry yourself but panic as you can't find clothes anywhere, did satoru forget? maybe the plan was for you to put your clothes back on until he's gave you them. opening the door ajar you peek outside, you're planning on seeing if you can hear satoru, asking him about the clothes but before you can you see a shirt on the floor next to the door. picking it up, you close the door quickly and breathe deeply, glad that you noticed the shirt before calling out to gojo.

when you start to slip into the shirt you feel a repeat of the shower, it smells so much like him. you didn't realise when you agreed to this you'd have to be concerned about this but you are and it's making you feel guilty. like you're no better than those girls who throw themselves at him, only based on appearances alone. you put it on as quickly as you can and try to ignore the smell but the entire room is filled with it. it smells different to the soap, it smells more like him, 'his natural scent?' you ponder. it effects you differently than it would his fans though, they'd be filled with thoughts that are less than appropriate, like being pushed into his pillow while he's taking them from behind or not wasting time with getting completely nude but to you they're innocent, the smell is comforting like when he surprises you by suddenly grabbing you from behind or crowding your space as you worked on projects together. it's not the smell of satoru gojo, famous 'womaniser', 'manwhore', 'heartbreaker', with a reputation that would make a nymphomaniac blush, it's the smell of satoru gojo- your gojo. and annoyingly your gojo, your friend, smells really good.

satoru was right about the shirt. because of how tall he is it reached down to your thigh, you were slightly worried about accidentally flashing him but it was long enough not to worry too much about it. he was also right about how it clung to you. even though it clung to you it didn't make you feel uncomfortable, the fabric stretched a tad around your hips and chest but it didn't make you feel uneasy, you doubt satoru would even notice. he, of course, does. and takes great pleasure in it.

you fold up the towel and leave it in the laundry basket. exiting the room you hear satoru and go to him. he hears you near him entering the room and looks up from the sofa, "you okay?"

you smile sweetly and nod your head, "i'm okay, it was a good shower."

he returns your smile, "i'm glad."

satoru doesn't hide his staring as you move to the sofa to sit down next to him. you're so cute and you're so hot all he can do is stare and he's so thankful that you agreed to come to his and stay. he's never let anyone wear his clothes before, it's a boundary that he doesn't cross. his previous relationships weren't allowed to wear his clothes, if it was cold outside and someone didn't bring a coat he wouldn't give them his, he never cared about them that much to do things like that but when you walk in wearing his clothes his heart jumps with joy. he never thought about how much he'd love seeing you wear his shirt, it's not just a shirt it's a statement, you're his, he owns you. it barely covers your thighs and he knows if he gets you to move and bend down, even if only slightly, everything will be on display. his shirt is clinging to your curves and he's practically salivating as your hips look so grabbable.

you're none the wiser of this and when he turns on the film you previously spoken about he was paying more attention to you than the television, every so often shuffling a little bit closer to you. he doesn't wait long, it's been about twenty minutes through the film before he puts his arm around you, he slings his arm around your shoulder when you walk together sometimes so it's not the first time this has happened. this is regular behaviour in your eyes.

forgetting his arm is even around you you become invested in what you're watching, you were right to mention it to gojo, it's exceeded your expectations. you have no reaction to satoru taking his arm off your shoulder and instead placing it on your plush thigh. he has more of a reaction that you do, biting his lip to stop any noises that could come out because you would likely notice if he groaned. after a couple of minutes of his hands being still he starts moving, making small patterns on your skin and stroking you. his hand gets higher, reaching the hem of his shirt before stopping and leaving his hand there.

as the film ends you become more aware of where gojo's hand is resting but you choose not to say anything. you're flustered but you think he's put his hand there absentmindedly while watching the film so you keep quiet.

"did you enjoy the film princess?"

you smile brightly at him and respond, "i did! did you?"

satoru starts making patterns on your skin lightly again. tapping his finger on his chin with his other hand like he's thinking and making a noise, "hmmm i did enjoy it although i was distracted through most of it."

that catches your attention wondering what it was that he was focused on instead. "oh, what was it?"

he smirks, "it's hard to pay attention to anything other than how pretty you look right now."

satoru had called you a pretty lady earlier tonight but this feels more personal, your brain refusing to work and it's exhilarating for him to see it happen.

he cups your cheek in his hand so you're making direct eye contact with each other, he doesn't want to look away from him. "do you want this sweetheart?"

your heart is pounding in your chest like a hummingbirds wings and you worry that satoru can hear it, swallowing before replying, "w-what do you mean?"

he leans closer to you and feel like your body is buzzing, tiny zaps of electricity shooting through your veins at his proximity to you, "do you want me?"

"i-i," you're stuttering over your words and nothing makes sense. do you want him? want him to do what?

"sweetheart do you want me?" he reiterates putting more emphasis on the 'want' and slivering his hand up further along your thigh, inching under your, his, shirt. you wait with bated breath, wondering if he'll go further, wondering if he'll say more.

"satoru are you... are you coming onto me?" you're quiet when you ask, you're unsure, you worry that you're wrong and gojo can't help but laugh.

"obviously i'm coming onto you. i thought that was pretty clear."

"you are?" you're still quiet.

"yeah," he smirks at you however your eyes drift away from him feeling shy but gojo's not having that, he pats your cheek before saying, "look at me princess." you do what he says and make eye contact with him again, "there she is, "he smiles at you and kisses your nose making your whole body heat up, your lips part open in shock and he smirks.

"i'm going to ask again, do you want this?" lowering his voice he continues speaking, "because i want this."

'he wants this. he wants me... but do i want him? everyone wants him. do i want him? if we do this it might never be the same again, we might stop being friends... satoru is really attractive, he's hot, he can get anyone he wants but will this mess everything up... i don't know.'

he can see those unnecessary cogs again, how silly, how useless.

he doesn't wait for you to answer, he's given you time and instead of answering you're thinking, overthinking, not being a good girl at all. instead of waiting any longer he closes the space between you two and slots his mouth against yours, licking your lips in a silent request to open your mouth, you oblige his request without any more thought and just simply do what feels right, do what feels good, and kissing satoru feelings good.

his lips are soft, probably softer than yours but you can't tell with them against each other. imaging the kiss you'd think gojo would kiss someone slowly, languidly. you imagine he wouldn't put a lot of effort or passion in the kiss but it would still be the best kiss anyone has ever had. you never thought he'd be a passionate kisser. you know from rumours that his relationships don't last long, it seems to you that he's never been invested in any of them so what's the point in kissing someone like you can't get enough of them when he's going to move on to the next person in a week, so what's the point of kissing passionately but right now that theory is blown out the window. his movement is rushed, it's hungry, it's unexpected. you didn't think he'd be so greedy. his skilled tongue is against yours and he's completely dominating the kiss. satoru's not even stopping for air and he's not letting you either, he's been waiting for this for so long now and a stupid reason like needing to breathe isn't going to stop him.

satoru's leaving wet kisses down your jaw and pulse point anywhere that's visible he's kissing. leaving little nips in his wake and trying to find a good space for him to start leaving marks and hickeys so everyone will know you're his.

the hand that was holding onto your thigh squeezes gently and a shiver runs down his spine because you feel so soft. he pushes you down on the sofa and he's above you looking down, knocking your thighs open and kneeling between them. he's swears he's never seen a more beautiful sight. you get nervous when you look at him, the way he looks at you tenderly with those vibrant blue eyes, that unbeknownst to you hold so much love for you.

you're gasping at every new sensation gojo's giving you, never having felt like this before as his continues his path up your thigh moving the shirt up along with it and now he's finally touching your plush body he thinks he may be in heaven with a gorgeous goddess with him and the more he moves the shirt up the more he thinks so. both of his hands moving to your hips and pressing his fingers into your skin watching them spill over and it's making him dizzy. never has he felt anyone with your body before and it's driving him crazy. he wants more, he needs more.

satoru brushes his knuckles over your underwear making you whine and he smirks, "feel good princess?"

"uh huh," you reply nodding your head up and down rapidly, head fuzzy and wanting more, wanting him.

"yeah?" he asks smugly. " ' course you do." he taps your hips just above the line of your underwear, "lift up for me sweetheart." you move up so he can pull down your underwear and he pockets them in his jeans saving them for later. he doesn't waste anytime as he unzips his jeans and takes them off, pulling his shirt off after, the only reason of the shirt being off is that he wants you to see how hot he looks and to check him out, he knows he looks good and he wants you to know it too.

he presses two fingers into you and you moan. "i'm going to prepare you sweetheart." it wasn't a question but you nod your head anyway. his slender fingers are longer than yours, reaching placing you can't, he's leisurely taking his time, watching as you squirm, eyes starting to glaze over.

only after four minutes and he's had enough of this leisurely pace fingering though, he just has to have his dick inside you now. he would promise to go slow but he knows he can't promise that. you don't see his dick before he goes into you, if you did you'd say something but instead you feel it. more girth than most and nine inches long thus as he starts to thrust into you you let out a moan that soon fades into a silent scream.

with each inch you feel that it must be it but then there's more, he knows he should've spent more time getting you ready for him but the idea of waiting even a minute longer was torture.

at the same time of being fully inside you, you wince, and satoru places a chaste kiss on your lips. there's a fleeting thought as you wince about how you think his cock has broken you, so far he's in your guts. he keeps his hold on you as he thrusts shallowly a few times testing the waters and playfully pinching your nipple to see your reaction.

you try to speak but the words get caught in your throat and it doesn't take long for gojo to speed up, not even a minute and he's already thrusting hard and fast into you, a creamy white ring already forming at the base of his cock. his pace doesn't falter, in fact it gets more rough as satoru sees your face. it's hard for you to even think, you've never been this full before, you're eyes are glazed over and you've got your mouth open drooling a bit, he thinks you look so adorably dumb. "look at you princess you look so dumb right now, so stupid. you don't even have one thought in your head do you? it's so fucking hot. not thinking or worrying, all that matters is this, you don't need to think i'll do it for you."

satoru lifts up one of your thighs and puts it on his shoulder, at the new position it feels like he's reaching even deeper. you whine so loud that people walking outside would hear. "my cock's making you lose braincells huh?" he grins, tapping your cheek gently to get your attention. you look up at him in a daze and he sniggers. "not a thought behind those eyes."

at the new angle you try to grab hold of his arm but struggle to focus losing grip straight away, squealing, "ah it feels s' good 'toru!"

satoru is pleased that you've spoken something, that you've been able to form an legible sentence, he's even more pleased at how good you sound squealing, knowing that he's the one who's made you sound like that. however more than all of that he's overjoyed that you called him 'toru' it sounds so perfect from your mouth.

"i know, i know, you're so good for me princess, such a good girl." he keeps slamming into you at a brutal pace and he wants you to come undone around him soon before he cums. "hear that princess, your pussy is so wet and sticky for me. she knows what she wants huh," he grins and starts pinching your nipples, watching as your eyes roll back.

he's fucking you so rough that your body is moving up and down on the sofa, jiggling with each thrusts, and as he watches your body bounce he gets closer and closer. he normally lasts so much longer but he can't help it with you, it's impossible for him to keep his regular time when your warm wet walls are wrapping around his cock, when he's inside you.

satoru can't wait any longer removing his hand from your nipple and bringing it to your clit, rubbing harshly as you shriek from the sudden extra stimulation, as you get tighter around him he sucks his teeth so close to cumming, "are you going to cum for me sweetheart?"

you don't say anything, you don't have time to answer him because instead the coil in the stomach that has been winding up for the last half an hour snaps, with the added help of gojo touching your clit, you arch your back, and your eyesight goes fuzzy seeing white dots. you've never had such an intense orgasm before, it drowned out noise and made everything hard to hear, you didn't even know cumming could do that. everyone was right about sex with satoru.

feeling you spasm around him was even for him to finish as well, a few more thrusts into you and he lost it cumming too. if he was a better man he would've pulled out but satoru knew that he would never pull out when it comes to you. he's seen birth control in your bathroom before and when he saw it he frowned, he hopes that you missed it today. either way he's making sure to bury himself in you as deep as he can get hoping that even if you did take birth control today it won't be good enough to stop his intention- his deep desire to breed you. thoughts racing through his head, 'silly girls don't need to go to university they should just stay at home. i've got more than enough money to look after her. she'd look so good, her body even softer than it already is. she'd make such a good mama.' as he comes his body goes taut and he groans loudly saying your name and stilling.

you're both catching your breathe, not speaking for a minute, recovering for the most mindblowing sex both of you have ever had.

he wants to stay where he is but he knows he can't. when he moves you whimper, feeling empty all of a sudden, and it makes his ego rise, "sorry princess, i'm going to get you a towel okay." satoru kisses your forehead before rising and getting a towel from the bathroom, coming back and kneeling, swiping the towel gently over your inner thighs and pussy. kissing your hip and looking back at you, "are you okay?"

you're breathless as you reply, "yeah."

satoru smirks, "that's good."

you cover your face with your hands, timid with the way gojo's focused on you. putting the towel down he holds onto your hands and removes them from your face so he can see you again, smiling at you sweetly and kissing your forehead again.

"satoru what's going to happen now?" you're almost silent, if he wasn't so laser focused on every movement and thing you do he might not have heard.

"we could watch another film but it's getting late."

"no... i mean with us..."

satoru furrows his eyebrows, not understanding the question. "us?"

"yeah i-i mean are we s-still friends?"

"friends?" he looks at you like you've grown an extra head and your stomach sinks, if you knew this would've been the outcome you would've done something differently.

you don't want to lose gojo, you really don't want to lose gojo. you don't want to cry in front of him, you don't want it to get misconstrued and him to think that you're trying to manipulate him or change his mind but the idea of not having satoru in your life is heartbreaking. wait... heartbreaking? however the tears still come and the words get lodged in your throat. you manage to get some words out but it's barely audible with how erratic your breathing is becoming and how you keep swallowing every five seconds. "can i do anything to make us be friends again? i don't want to lose you." you're sniffling and you know you sound needy and probably desperate too but that's not your main focus right now.

"lose me?" he squints and gently wipes the tears from your face. "why would you lose me?" he cups you cheek, "princess how do you feel about me?"

your mouth parts open, you're glad that he's suggesting that you're not going to lose him but that's completely overshadowed with the question he's asked. you stay silent, not moving a muscle, how do you feel about him?

'satoru's my friend, my best friend! so... i feel that he's my friend? did i feel this way about my other friends? i lost my other friends and it was awful, i hated it but if i lost satoru... i think it would be worse than awful. maybe soul crushing is accurate... heartbreaking sounds more accurate. can someone be heartbroken about a friend? can i?'

you can't say anything, you don't know what to say, all your thoughts are muddled and you feel lost. gojo's still cupping your cheek, now stroking it with his thumb. "alright then princess, let me tell you." you don't know how he's going to tell you, you don't even understand yourself. "you don't see me as a friend anymore." he says simply and your eyes widen, and he holds onto your elbow with no force with his other hand to stop you if you try to draw away.

"do you know why i know that princess?" satoru asks you, his voice tethered, borderlining on husky. unsure you shake your head. "because friends don't act like you do. they don't get jealous about the thought of me taking girls out to restaurants, they don't check me out when they think i'm not looking. friends don't make a photo of us together as their lockscreen and wallpaper-"

at that you interrupt him, "you have me on your lockscreen too!" but he puts his fingers to your lips to gesture for you to keep quiet.

"not finished yet sweetheart. friends don't send each other good morning texts as soon as they wake up and they don't memorise my order at cafés we go to. friends don't stare at my lips and compliment my eyes all the time. friends don't look at me longingly. friends don't go to romantic restaurants alone together."

he pauses watching with rapt attention as you look down at your lap, he doesn't make you look up at him this time and waits for your response. when you decide to look back at him you calm your breathing as much as you can, "b-but you do those things too satoru..."

satoru grins brightly, "yeah i do, sooo... that would mean what?" he presses you to answer him.

"do you- do you- am i more than a friend to you satoru?"

"bingo!"

you feel like you're dreaming, nothing feels real. you could never of guessed that gojo feels that way or that you're his type. "is that why we had sex?"

satoru chuckles, not answering but instead replying, "you're so cute!" it makes your face heat up. "do you want me to tell you a secret?" you're nervous and dubious but you nod your head softly. gojo moves even closer than you, "you're more than just my friend princess," he leans closer to your ear and whispers "i love you."

you blink at him- once, twice, three times. you understand now that gojo is more than a friend to you and you recognise it's been this way for a very long time but through all his speech you didn't consider he felt the same. maybe that's why you didn't understand your own feelings, because if gojo acts the same as you do and calls you his friend you never questioned about if you really felt friendship towards him.

how long as satoru known all this and has kept you in the dark? what if he choose not to ever tell you? would you end up in a relationship with someone else only to break their heart when you finally realise that you're in love with satoru. your mouth is dry and you lick your lips swallowing to wet them, your voice still sounds a little hoarse though as you say, "why didn't you tell me?"

"because you'll understand and accept your own feelings and mine. i wanted to tell you but i know you, i knew that you would just deny it and ignore your feelings and it could result in something changing with us and that was the last thing i wanted sweetheart, it would kill me but i knew that it was time. i knew that you'd accept both of our feelings," he asserts and he's so close to you that you can feel his body heat.

you know what he's saying is true but you can't help but pout. "how do you know me better than myself satoru?"

satoru chuckles. well he does spend a great deal of his time loving everything you do...

"plus i couldn't keep it in any longer princess, i swear i was going mad. i would probably have folded soon and tell you," he whines and you giggle.

you take a deep breath and look at him straight in the eye, your whole body feeling fuzzy, "satoru i love you."

'yeah i know.'

gojo grins and wipes his forehead dramatically, "thank god." he holds onto the nape of your neck and pulls you to his lips so he can kiss you hungrily, as he pulls away he asks "do you still want to sleep in the spare room tonight? my room is more comfortable... and there may be some boxes on the bed that i haven't moved."

your eyes widen, "say you're joking 'toru!"

he throws his hands up and grins "well..."

you don't stay mad at him long, you've both confessed your love to each other it's not like you can be annoyed at him, you grin back, "i can't believe you."

"i swear it wasn't planned just a happy coincidence... that i chose not to tell you about... but it's okay because we can just use that room for any of your extra stuff when you move in."

you open your mouth wide in disbelief, "i cannot believe you satoru!"

"aw come on you know you love me!" he chuckles and you glare at him before be pokes your cheek and you start laughing too.

455 notes · View notes

chosolar · 8 hours ago

Text

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ wanna be yours!

gojo satoru x shy!femreader

flirty!satoru didn't think much of you when he first met you. yeah you were cute and he saw you often behind the counter at his favourite coffee shop, but you kept to yourself that the only thing he knew about you was your name. next time you hang out with them, he was determined to at least get to know you a little better.

flirty!satoru started asking to go out with only you after a few months, which you weren't suspicious of. suguru had a lot of responsibilities, and shoko was always tired and preferred staying home, so you didn't think much of it when it was only the two of you going out.

flirty!satoru is always paying for you during your "hangouts". satoru will never let you pay for anything because he will always have the provider mindset (what a man).

flirty!satoru hates sharing clothes, even with a close friend like suguru. he's grown up as a spoiled only child so he hates any kind of sharing, but he will never say no to giving you his hoodies!! he is in love with the way his hoodie so is large on you that it basically engulfs you. he just thinks you look so adorable when you wear his sweaters.

flirty!satoru loves sleeping beside you. after a long day, he likes to come over and he doesn't care if it's on the bed or your couch, he loves snuggling up to you and feeling the warmth of your body against him. the first night you slept over at his apartment, you left early in the morning because you felt embarrassed so now satoru wakes up early to prevent you from doing so again.

flirty!satoru enjoys making you flustered IMMENSELY. everytime you hand him the house keys, he'll let his fingers slightly intertwine with yours, imitating hand holding. if you ask him to grab something from the top of the cabinet, he'll cage you in his arms before you get a chance to move out the way and he'll press his body onto your back before handing you the thing you asked him to get. his love language for sure is physical touch.

flirty!satoru who is so physically affectionate with you, it's like he'll die if he's not touching you in any way. he's quite sneaky too, when you're sitting on the couch beside him, he'll do the good ole "yawn and stretch" trick to put his arm over you. when you're watching a scary movie with him, satoru would pretend to be scared to get closer to you and if he's feeling extra bold, he'll hide his face into the crook of your neck, his lips being dangerously close to your skin.

flirty!satoru notices the way you try to take sneaky glances at him when you think he's not looking. he basks in the fact that even though you're not officially together, your eyes are always on him (the same for him about you ofc). sometimes he'll even look back at you and see if you'll continue the eye contact but he knows you'll turn away (he loves doing this because he thinks that it's so cute you can barely hold eye contact with him).

flirty!satoru is speechless when you get clingy with him when you get a couple of drinks in your system. after everyone left satoru's penthouse, you stayed behind, tipsy and unable to even walk straight. he takes a sit beside you on his couch, tilting his head to look at you trying to stay awake. you caught him off-guard when you crawled into his lap, you're situated in between his thighs with your legs crossed on top of his right thigh. you lean your head on his chest, and he instinctively puts his arm around your waist so that you don't fall back. you nestle your head into his chest and muttered, "you smell good".

as shy as you usually are, he wanted to keep seeing you like this. a side of you that only he can see - clingy and more outgoing (also very promiscuous but no one else needs to know).

flirty!satoru takes time out of his busy day to come pick you up when you're off, especially if you're working closing shifts. friends pick each other up all the time, what's the difference? it's not like satoru came all the way from the other side of the city, speeding the entire way, and running a couple of red yellow lights... he just didn't want you to wait for him outside where someone sketchy might come up to you.

after arriving in front your apartment complex, you offered him dinner as a thank you, and there's no way flirty!satoru would ever decline your cooking! after a hearty meal that satoru rates 10/10, he suggests watching this new movie suguru was telling him about.

midway through the movie you end up falling asleep, your head leaning onto the side of his arm. he can tell that you're uncomfortable with the position so he scoots forward on the couch, letting your head fall onto his shoulder and having you snuggle up to his arm.

satoru ends up closing the tv soon after and carrying you to your bed. he fixes the hairs that are covering your face and pulls the duvet over you. after ensuring that you're sleeping comfortably, he goes back go the living room to close all the lights when he notices your phone ringing with notifications.

omfg forgot to tell u guys but we finally saw the guy she was talking about 12:35 am

she wasnt lying when she said hes so fine 12:35 am

@[username] pls tell me he has friends 12:36 am

are you guys seeing or what!!! ;) 12:36 am

the groupchat you had with your close friends from work was filled with the coworker who you closed with gushing over satoru. she went on about how he waited for you at the front of the shop, that he opened the door for you, and even introduced himself as a "close friend" of yours (with a wink).

satoru couldn't help but smile at your phone, looking through all the times you've mentioned him to your friends. he writes a quick message to your friends before closing the app. like he came to do, satoru closed the lights all around your apartment then made his way to you, wrapping his arms around you and falling asleep soon after.

flirty!satoru who after that night, becomes more confident in his advances towards you. he's been so affectionate that even suguru and shoko are questioning your relationship. suguru notices that satoru's homescreen is not his fav celebrity, but rather a candid pic of you! he also saw a glimpse of your contact name on the white-haired man's phone. had suguru known better, he would've thought the two of you were already dating.

flirty!satoru was hyping himself up the next week to actually ask you out. he was going all out for you, with a small hike to a cliff that overlooked the skyline of city and there would be a picnic blanket with your favourite foods inside the picnic basket with arrangements of your favourite flowers surrounding the blanket, the whole shabam!

he calls you.

and calls.

but you don't answer.

it was getting closer to the time that he needed to be on the way, but you still weren't answering. he was about to leave his penthouse when he received a text from you.

hey satoru I think I need some space right now. I'll text you back when I feel okay, hope you understand. 6:27 pm

and for the first time in his life, flirty!satoru's stomach dropped.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

hello! this is my first time posting on tumblr and ngl i'm kinda nervous but whateverrrr I have so many wip about the jjk men i need them out of the notes app NEOW this is also not proofread :)

#gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fic #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabble

408 notes · View notes

plethorawrites · 1 day ago

Text

How the Batboys would react to finding out and dealing with you self harming/having severe depression.

TW: Mentions of cuts, blood, suicidal thoughts, incorrect use of pills, sort of implied eating disorders.

Please don't read if this could upset you in any way.

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Bruce:

The first time he notices is also the first time you spend the night. The lights were dark and you were both a bit buzzed after downing several glasses of champagne to endure a boring event he invited you to as an excuse to see you. Of course he was more concerned with kissing the inside of your thighs than noticing the little healed scars on them.

He notices them the next morning though, when the sun is streaming through the window and you get up to find your clothes while assuming he's asleep. He wasn't. He saw the marks. The scars. He refrained from saying a word about them, waiting weeks for you to open up about them on your own terms. He could see they were healed so he wasn't terribly worried at that moment.

When you finally told him, you said you'd been clean for months. He had no reason to suspect you would start again.

But you did.

He didn't know the exact day, or the specific reason, all he knew is that you stopped wearing shorts to bed and stopped letting him leave the lights on to see you when you were intimate. You stopped smiling as often, too.

Of course, being a detective, he can tell when you start getting lethargic, not from work or stress but simply life itself. He hears when your words have less meaning, and your expressions are false. He makes it his mission to not let you fall into the spiral any more than you already have.

You might not want to tell him you're hurting yourself but he'd be damned if he didn't do whatever he could to make you stop. That started by holding you tighter at night so you couldn't sneak off to the bathroom to cut, he'd ask you to visit him at work, insist on every meal being at a restaurant so you didn't even have time to try to hurt yourself. And of course, he helps with the tasks you start struggling with, but pretends he doesn't notice.

He just says "Can I practice braiding your hair so I can help Cassandra?" and use it as a chance to make sure you don't start letting your hair tangle.

He even makes the braid a bit crooked even though he can French braid perfectly, just to sell it. He'll wash it, too, claiming it's: "A good excuse to spend time together." after a long day.

He just wants to make sure it's not getting greasy. He can see the guilt on your face when you sit in the tub, staring at the wall. You wanted to tell him to stop, that you could wash your own hair. But you probably couldn't. It felt like too much work and you just wanted to sink underneath the water of the tub for a few minutes of peace. He kept you upright though, kissing the back of your shoulder, the side of your neck, your cheek, making you hum.

You weren't able to feel much, emotionally speaking, but you could feel gratitude and love.

When he notices you skipping meals because you can't drag yourself to the kitchen or bother to cook, he will. He'll make anything, even if you change your mind about what sounds good and make him cook six different dishes before eventually accepting one of them. He doesn't care. He just wants you to eat. The second you show the slightest bit of interest in something, anything, it's yours. You make a comment about the beach sounding nice, the next thing you know he's taken the day off work and is driving you there with the top of a convertible down.

You say you kind of miss one of your old hobbies— be it painting or crochet, it doesn't matter what, the next day the nicest stuff for you to get back into it arrives. Fresh paints, massive canvases or imported yarn and crystal hooks. He watches, intently when you start to focus on something you like again, the heavy ache in his heart subsiding when he gets to show enthusiasm about your project when it's done.

You start holding him again at night, your face buried in his chest instead of sleeping facing the wall. One night you slide into bed wearing shorts and he can see your scars, red ones among the old faded pale ones from when you first met.

He knows they'll heal too in time. Just like you have.

---

Dick: He doesn't realize there's anything wrong several months into dating you until he catches you taking some pills when he was walking back into the room and later searched up the name, figuring out they're antidepressants.

He can't believe he didn't see it sooner and hates that you were always putting on a fake smile with him. He wants you to talk about it, but understands that it's hard for you too and your every attempt to open up to him ends with you in tears or walking out in frustration because the words won't form.

He suggests (very strongly) that you see a therapist and after some gentle coaxing, you agree. He sits in the car the entire time waiting for you and when you come out, numb for a few minutes as you sit there in silence before sobbing uncontrollably for the 20 minutes in the parking lot. He gets you whatever you want after— ice cream, cheesecake, brownies. Whatever you're craving.

He takes you every week, sometimes multiple times a week. He never complains and he's ALWAYS there. He'll wake up early, even if he barely slept. He'll skip family lunch, he'll rush out of a bank robbery just shouting for his brothers to handle it without him. It doesn't matter what, he'll be there.

He's taken to heavy positive affirmations, as well. He puts sticky notes up in the bathroom with smiley faces for whenever you brush your teeth or put on moisturizer. There are little hearts and words of encouragement on the front of the fridge and inside of it too for when you manage to crave a snack. Hopefully something healthy like fruit, but even if it's junk food, it's better than an empty stomach.

Every morning he wakes you up and tells you you're beautiful and he's grateful to have you.

He likes to remind you not to push yourself as well. "If you just manage to wash your hair, you'll have done something" and "If that's too hard, I'll help you make the bed." But also..."If you don't do anything at all today, you still survived. That alone is difficult, but you're doing it."

Every night he lays it on even thicker because he knows it gets harder at night. "I'm so proud of you for making it through another day." And... "I know it sucks right now but I promise I'll help you get through this." And... "Just take it one day at a time."

When you get homework from your therapist— to do 3 hard tasks over one week, make a list of every negative and positive thought to see them out loud and deduce why you have them, physical exercise—he does it with you. No matter how foolish or seemingly simple it is.

Your therapist told you to do something you struggle with? Done. He'll stand behind you while you do the dishes and help you dry.

You need to get something from a store that's dozens of miles away? Road trip. He'll buy the snacks and take turns driving so you don't het stressed out burn out.

You're told to get some physical exercise? He'll be your partner for whatever kind you want to do. Jogging in the park, keeping a slower pace than usual for you, practicing on rings while you climb the stairmaster—he falls, because he's distracted by your ass. But that's besides the point.

When you start to show signs of feeling better, that therapy is working, he's elated. And after several months and things are better, much better, you tell him whenever you're feeling off. Whenever that nagging feeling comes back over you. You guys work through it then and there to keep it from getting bad again.

Though sometimes, when he's leaving for work, you'll pout and say you feel sad just to get him to stay. You both know it's not a depressed feeling. You just don't want him to leave and he'll indulge you. "Oh, well, if that's the case, I'll just have to stay in bed with you until you feel better."

---

Jason: He's busy. Always. But that didn't mean he was oblivious. Yet, that's exactly how he felt when he realized you'd been abusing your medicine. He knew after the first few dates that you were on medication for chronic depression and he was more than understanding about it. Millions of people suffered from it, himself occasionally included.

But when he's laying in bed and catches you sneaking into the bathroom to take three more pills than you're supposed to, he's caught off guard. Then you slide down to the floor, sitting crisscrossed, making small cuts on your thighs, wincing in pain the entire time. It takes every ounce of self control not to jump out of bed and rip the blade from your hand. He contemplates it, he really does. But that would just make things worse. So he waits.

It keeps him up all night, though he pretends to sleep. And in the morning, you're back out of bed, taking more and sliding back in bed, pretending to wake up just like him.

He blames himself entirely.

He thinks he should have been better, done more, noticed something that made it better. It was his job to support you and protect you and he had failed and that killed him in ways that seemed unimaginable.

After an incredibly difficult conversation where he confesses to knowing you've been filling scripts you don't need and taking more than necessary, you're both an emotional mess. But he assures you he's not leaving or angry, just scared for you. He wants to help but needs you to let him.

He absolutely dedicates himself to keeping you away from anything even remotely dangerous.

The knives in the kitchen? Gone.

Even the butter knives are plastic now.

The razors in the bathroom? Thrown out in a trashcan outside so you couldn't find them.

Even the little blade in the pencil sharpener is taken out.

He won't let you have your pill bottles either, at least not at first. He makes sure you take them everyday, morning and night, then after several weeks starts to let you handle them by yourself.

He still sneaks out of bed to count them and make sure you weren't taking more than prescribed. He insists on being the one to wrap your arms, cleaning them to make sure they don't get infected. And wiping your legs as well. He has to remind himself not to squeeze them too hard, the way he wants to.

While holding you at night he makes sure not to hurt them, even though he wants to hold you much tighter to comfort himself as reassurance you're alright. He listens, late at night when you're whispering to avoid crying. When you explain the feeling it gave you. He knows it.

Once they heal and he can hold you tighter, not as afraid of hurting you by squeezing your thighs the way he likes to. He starts kissing them each night, making sure you know they're not embarrassing or shameful.

He's got scars on most of his body; you were the one to teach them to appreciate them. If he could return the favor, he would. A thousand times over.

He tells you the same things you told him. "You made it through."

---

Tim: When you tell Tim, and by tell I mean confess after he figured it out on his own, you're surprised to find that he doesn't have much of a reaction immediately. He stays quiet, hums a little, nods along. He never interrupts but you see his eyes glazing over a bit, the way they do when the gears start turning in his head. He knew, of course, that you had depression.

He knew you hurt yourself, not in the traditional way of cutting or attempting suicide, but in much subtler ways, like forcing yourself to finish a meal even though you're full and your stomach hurts, taking boiling hot showers that leave your skin red and raw practically painful to even touch from how dry it is, making yourself stay up late and function on the fewest hours of sleep possible.

You purposely made life harder for yourself and for the most part, didn't even realize it. He did, though. What he didn't realize was the amount of medicine you'd tried, to the point you felt none of them worked, the amount of therapists and psychiatrists you had seen, the level of depression you had truly sunk to before. It hurt him to realize once you started opening up. He wanted to make that pain go away. So, he researched. Constantly.

He wants to know every single thing that can cause depression, the statistics of self harm leading to suicide, the effectiveness of different treatments or facilities. He knows every antidepressant, their side effects, their manufacturers, and dosages. He suggests inpatient care for you, but absolutely refuses to send you to someplace like Arkham.

Instead, he finds the best of the best, way out of the city, where the entire staff passed his background check, the facility was up to date on every code possible, and the rules seemed relaxed enough to let you feel like yourself while also making sure you're safe. He's allowed to visit and does so as soon as possible, even manages to get extra hours in the night. You have the best of care there, too, he knows because he can see it on your face every time he's there.

The food is wonderful, the private room you have is nice (even if you miss his warmth at night), the activities they make you do remind you of the hobbies you used to love before they became unbearable. Even therapy sessions, always private because Tim knew you wouldn't want to speak about it in a group, are rather helpful.

When you get out after a few weeks, he's right there, waiting, like always. And he's got the biggest smile because he can see immediately the light back in your eyes that he missed so much. He keeps up with some of the tactics you learned or hobbies you started while there, gladly sitting on the floor with you while you do paper mache.

He always makes sure you know you're not weak for needing help and if you ever feel like you need to go back, even just for a week, or weekend, he'll be there for you. Just like always.

---

(Aged up. I imagine you both in LOA)

Damian: It didn't take a genius to know you were a miserable person. Most people in the league of assassins were. He rather liked your level of misery, usually. It was cynical, with a touch of wit and dark humor that always made him feel seen.

It wasn't until he caught sight of a few scars on your calf that he didn't recognize that he started to realize you were more miserable than he had originally thought. You tried to play it off, claiming you got hurt in a sparring match. But that was a lot and he knew it. Because A) you never lost. And B) the cut was at an angle a sword wouldn't be able to reach unless you were the one holding it.

You clearly didn't want to talk about it, so he wouldn't make you. He was always taught that emotions were weak and even though he didn't fully believe it as he used to, he still isn't big on a lot of sentimentality. Which is fine, because you aren't either.

He still keeps a quiet, very close eye on you. Maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't. He wasn't sure. He didn't care either way. He was worried and with your recent behavior, he felt he had every right to be. You started putting in less effort during training, if you even showed up at all. He'd find you on the balcony at night, leaning your head against the railing and staring at the gardens with a blank expression.

Even the things he knew you loved— your favorite foods, the music you liked to listen to on a record player while you got ready for bed. It stopped appealing to you. The meticulous way you'd fix your hair before bed every single night abruptly stopped, too. You simply fell asleep with it as is and woke up with it tangled. You still held him at night, but it felt less like an embrace for the both of you and more like you were clinging to him like a life line.

He pays extra close attention and anytime he isn't allowed to be by your side, he makes sure someone else is. It's hard to keep you away from sharp objects, given nearly everything around them was a weapon, but he tries to get you to vent your rage by cutting training dummies and not yourself.

He also takes you to the quieter, more secluded wing, into an empty room with pillows on the floor. He makes you sit with him and meditate, which he knows is hard at first, boring and you don't have the most energy, but he holds your hand, his fingers pressed to your pulse to make sure you're listening when he tells you to take a deep breath in and think— not of what you're grateful for, like some might suggest. No. Instead of asking you what you want to live for, he asks you what you can't die without. The grudges you're holding, the projects you haven't finished, the people who are just waiting to see you fail. He won't let you let them win.

And it works. That passion and drive slowly comes back with his help and support at your side, doing your hair for you at night and making sure someone brought you a meal three times a day even if he wasn't around to make sure you ate. Your need to be the best and spite anyone who thinks you aren't returns after a while.

One night he finds you training alone, sweat dripping from your brow, your scars both won in battle and self inflicted on display. Instead of interrupting, he simply watches, admiring your form which had improved since you started picking up your sword more often. He loved watching you find your spirit again.

362 notes · View notes

enhasntty · 2 days ago

Text

Love on The Line - LHS

pairing: lee heeseung x f!reader summary: At BrightSpark Solutions, your rivalry with the playful Heeseung turns into unexpected sparks during a high-profile project. Between late-night brainstorming, office pranks, and your brother’s matchmaking antics, love starts to bloom in the chaos. warnings: includes kissing, playful flirting, tension, bickering, teasing, playful banter, reader has a younger brother and he calls her "Noona" genre: romance, co-workers to lovers wc: 14.6k

likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!

The fluorescent lights of the BrightSpark Solutions conference room buzzed softly as the clock struck 10 a.m. You sat at the large glass table, fingers laced neatly in front of you, a small stack of notes by your side. The morning coffee rush had left the faint scent of vanilla lattes and caramel macchiatos lingering in the air, but you were too focused to notice. Across the table sat Lee Heeseung, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed smirk playing on his lips, a complete contrast to your poised demeanor.

The weekly team meeting had always been competitive, but today was different. The stakes were higher. Manager Kim had dropped the bombshell just a day earlier—a high-profile client was considering hiring BrightSpark to handle their next major marketing campaign, and the responsibility of landing the deal would likely fall on whoever impressed him the most during today’s meeting.

You weren’t about to let Heeseung, your biggest rival, take that win.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Manager Kim announced, his authoritative voice cutting through the murmurs. He adjusted his glasses, glancing around the room. “As you all know, this potential client could be a game-changer for us. I want to hear your ideas. Impress me.”

You cleared your throat and stood, clutching the edge of your laptop. “I’d like to go first.”

“Of course you would,” Heeseung quipped, leaning forward slightly, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement.

Ignoring him, you clicked on the first slide of your presentation. “My concept focuses on storytelling. This campaign isn’t just about selling a product; it’s about connecting emotionally with the target audience. I’ve outlined a multi-platform strategy to build a narrative that resonates with them.”

You went on to explain your vision, your voice steady and confident. The room was quiet, except for the soft tapping of someone taking notes. Manager Kim nodded occasionally, his expression unreadable.

As you finished your presentation, you glanced briefly at Heeseung. His smirk was gone, replaced with a raised brow and a look of mild interest.

“Thank you,” Manager Kim said as you sat down. “Heeseung, you’re up.”

Heeseung stood with a casual air, pushing his chair back with his foot and sauntering to the front of the room. He didn’t even bother with notes; he simply pulled up his presentation, hands in his pockets as he addressed the room.

“My approach is simple,” he began, his voice smooth and confident. “People don’t want to feel like they’re being sold something, they want to feel involved. This campaign should be interactive, something that makes the audience feel like they’re part of the brand.”

His presentation was polished, and his ideas were bold and innovative. You hated to admit it, but he had a way of commanding attention effortlessly. The way he gestured, his sharp wit, and his subtle confidence was infuriating how good he was at this.

As he wrapped up, he shot you a quick glance, his smirk back in full force. You looked away, frowning slightly.

“Both excellent ideas,” Manager Kim said, his hands clasped in front of him. “But I think this project requires something a little… extra. That’s why I’m assigning both of you to work on it together.”

Your heart sank.

“What?” you blurted, your voice soft but incredulous.

“Sir, with all due respect,” Heeseung began, trying to hide his own surprise.

Manager Kim raised a hand to cut him off. “You’re both BrightSpark’s best. This client is too important to risk on just one perspective. I want both of you on this.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Heeseung, who looked equally displeased.

“This isn’t up for discussion,” Manager Kim added. “I expect results. You’ll have your first joint brainstorming session tomorrow morning. Dismissed.”

Back at your desk, you buried your head in your hands, groaning softly.

“I’m guessing the meeting didn’t go as planned?” Chaewon’s voice came from beside you.

You glanced up to see your best friend leaning against your desk, her auburn hair tied into a short ponytail. She held a cup of coffee in one hand and a knowing smile in the other.

“Manager Kim wants me to work with Heeseung on the campaign,” you muttered.

Chaewon’s eyes widened. “What? Him?” She slid into the empty chair beside you. “This is going to be so entertaining.”

“For who? Because it’s definitely not me,” you grumbled.

“Oh, come on,” Chaewon teased, nudging your shoulder. “It’s not like he’s terrible to look at. And admit it, you secretly like how much attention he gives you.”

Your cheeks flushed. “He does not give me attention. He’s just, ugh, Heeseung!”

Chaewon laughed, clearly enjoying your misery. “You know, the way he argues with you all the time? Classic flirting behavior.”

You shook your head, refusing to let her words get to you. “It’s not flirting. Heeseung just likes to win.”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, clearly unconvinced.

Meanwhile, across the office, Heeseung was slouched at his desk, tossing a stress ball in the air. Jay perched on the edge of the desk, watching him with amusement.

“So,” Jay said, dragging out the word, “you’re working with her now?”

“Don’t remind me,” Heeseung muttered, catching the ball and squeezing it in frustration. “She’s so annoyingly perfect all the time.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Perfect? That’s an interesting word choice.”

“You know what I mean,” Heeseung said quickly. “She’s always so calm, so composed. Like nothing ever rattles her. It’s infuriating.”

Jay smirked. “Right. Infuriating. And the fact that you bring her up in every conversation has nothing to do with the fact that you like her?”

Heeseung scoffed. “I don’t like her. I just…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “She’s… competitive. It’s fun to challenge her, that’s all.”

“Sure, sure,” Jay said, clearly unconvinced.

“Besides,” Heeseung continued, tossing the stress ball back into the air, “she probably hates me.”

Jay laughed. “Hates you? Dude, she wouldn’t argue with you so much if she didn’t care. Trust me, she likes you.”

Heeseung frowned, his mind drifting back to the way you’d looked at him during the meeting—frustrated, sure, but there had been something else in your eyes. He quickly shook the thought away.

As the day dragged on, you tried to focus on your other tasks, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the campaign, and to Heeseung.

How were you supposed to work with him? He was charming, sure, but also insufferable. Every interaction with him felt like a battle, and yet, there was something oddly exhilarating about it.

“Stop overthinking,” you muttered to yourself, pushing the thoughts aside. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and you needed to be prepared.

The next morning, you arrived at the office earlier than usual, determined to set the tone for your first brainstorming session with Heeseung. Armed with neatly typed notes and a freshly brewed coffee, you claimed one of the small meeting rooms. The space was bright and organized, with a whiteboard on one wall and a sleek table in the center. You placed your materials in the exact center of the table, ensuring everything was perfectly aligned.

Ten minutes later, the door swung open, and Heeseung strolled in, late as usual. He carried nothing but a pen tucked behind his ear and an air of casual arrogance that immediately set your teeth on edge.

“You’re late,” you said, glancing pointedly at the clock.

“Fashionably late,” Heeseung replied, flashing you a grin. “You didn’t miss me that much, did you?”

You ignored the comment, gesturing toward the seat across from you. “Let’s get started.”

Instead of sitting where you’d indicated, Heeseung plopped into the chair right next to you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Sitting,” he said innocently. “Why? Do you have assigned seating too, Ms. Control Freak?”

Your jaw tightened. “I am not a control freak.”

“You’re totally a control freak,” he said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “Look at this.” He gestured toward the neatly arranged notes in front of you. “Your papers are color-coded, for crying out loud.”

“It’s called being prepared,” you shot back. “You should try it sometime instead of showing up with nothing but that ridiculous smirk.”

“Ouch.” Heeseung placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “You wound me.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Despite his infuriating demeanor, there was something oddly endearing about how easily he got under your skin.

The session quickly turned into a battle of wills.

“We should focus on a digital-first approach,” you argued, jotting ideas onto the whiteboard. “The client’s audience is primarily online, so that’s where we need to meet them.”

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, twirling his pen between his fingers. “Sure, but that’s obvious. If we want to stand out, we need to do something unexpected. How about guerrilla marketing? Something bold and interactive.”

“Interactive campaigns are risky,” you countered, turning to face him. “What if it flops? We’d waste the client’s budget.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes you have to take risks. Not that you’d know anything about that, Ms. Play-It-Safe.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. “And sometimes you need to be practical, Mr. Half-Baked-Ideas.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stared at each other, the air between you crackling with tension. Finally, Heeseung broke the silence with a chuckle.

“You’re really something, you know that?”

“Is that your way of admitting I’m right?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shook his head, still smiling. “Not a chance.”

Just as you were about to fire back a retort, a small voice called out from the doorway.

“Noona!”

Your heart melted instantly as you turned to see your younger brother, Minjun, standing in the doorway with a wide grin. He was clutching a small stuffed bear in one hand, his backpack slung haphazardly over one shoulder.

“Minjun?” you said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Mom had a meeting nearby, so she said I could come see you after school,” he explained, walking into the room. He paused when he noticed Heeseung, his big, curious eyes taking in the stranger.

“Who’s that?” Minjun asked, pointing at Heeseung.

Heeseung smiled, leaning down to Minjun’s level. “I’m Heeseung. And you must be Minjun, right?”

Minjun nodded, looking delighted. “How did you know my name?”

“She talks about you all the time,” Heeseung said, shooting you a sly glance.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do,” Heeseung said with a laugh.

Before you could argue, Minjun walked up to Heeseung and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Heeseung.”

Heeseung grinned and shook the tiny hand, his usual teasing expression softening. “Nice to meet you too, Minjun.”

To your utter surprise, Minjun didn’t let go of Heeseung’s hand. Instead, he tugged on it, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Do you work with my Noona?”

“I do,” Heeseung said.

“Is she a good worker?” Minjun asked, tilting his head.

Heeseung laughed, glancing at you. “She’s… very good at what she does.”

“See, Minjun?” you said, ruffling his hair. “Even Heeseung can admit I’m good at my job.”

Minjun nodded seriously, still holding onto Heeseung’s hand. “I like you,” he declared.

You blinked in shock. “Minjun!”

“What?” Minjun said innocently. “He’s nice.”

Heeseung chuckled, his ears turning slightly pink. “Thanks, buddy. I like you too.”

Minjun’s unexpected visit completely derailed the rest of the meeting. He insisted on sitting on your lap while you worked, occasionally chiming in with his own “ideas” for the campaign, which mostly involved adding superheroes and dinosaurs.

Heeseung, to his credit, played along, even sketching a quick dinosaur on the corner of your notes to make Minjun laugh. You couldn’t help but notice how gentle he was with your little brother, his usual sarcasm replaced with genuine warmth.

By the time your mom came to pick Minjun up, the entire office was buzzing about your “adorable little brother.”

Later that afternoon, you were tidying up the meeting room when Sunghoon and Yuna walked in.

“So,” Yuna said, leaning against the table with a smirk, “what’s going on with you and Heeseung?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, glancing up from your notes.

“Really?” Sunghoon said, raising an eyebrow. “Because the way he was looking at you earlier… pretty suspicious.”

You rolled your eyes. “He wasn’t looking at me.”

“Yes, he was,” Yuna said, grinning. “And don’t even get me started on how cute you two were with Minjun.”

“We weren’t being cute,” you insisted.

“Oh, please,” Sunghoon said. “If you guys aren’t dating yet, it’s only a matter of time.”

“Exactly,” Yuna added. “You’d make such a cute couple.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Can we not do this right now?”

“Fine, fine,” Yuna said, holding up her hands. “But don’t say we didn’t tell you.”

As they left the room, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth to their teasing.

Meanwhile, Heeseung was back at his desk, staring at the tiny dinosaur he’d doodled on your notes. He smiled to himself, thinking about Minjun’s wide-eyed innocence and the way you’d softened around your little brother.

Jay walked by and raised an eyebrow. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“No reason,” Heeseung said, quickly flipping the page.

Jay smirked. “Uh-huh. Let me guess… it’s about her?”

“Shut up, Jay,” Heeseung muttered, but the smile lingered on his lips.

The office was eerily quiet at night, the usual hum of conversations and ringing phones replaced by the steady ticking of the wall clock. The overhead lights cast a warm glow on the small meeting room where you and Heeseung were holed up, brainstorming for the campaign. The faint aroma of coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the sound of your pen scratching against paper.

It was well past office hours, but neither of you seemed eager to leave. Or maybe, neither of you wanted to admit defeat by calling it a night first.

“I still think we should focus on the customer journey,” you said, jotting another note onto the whiteboard. “If we can show the client how their product fits seamlessly into their audience’s lives, it’ll be a win.”

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he studied your work. “It’s not bad,” he admitted, though his tone made it sound like he was giving a grudging compliment. “But it’s missing something dynamic. What about an experiential element? Something that makes people feel like they’re part of the brand.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “You mean like that VR campaign you suggested earlier?”

“Exactly.”

“That was a terrible idea, Heeseung.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

He chuckled, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re bossy.”

You froze, the pen slipping from your fingers and clattering onto the table. “Excuse me?”

Heeseung grinned, clearly enjoying the way your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed. “I said you’re lucky you’re cute. Why? Did I catch you off guard?”

“N-no,” you stammered, looking away quickly.

“Hmm,” he said, tilting his head. “You’re staring at me a lot tonight, you know. Should I be worried you’re falling for me?”

Your head snapped back toward him, horrified. “I am not!”

The words tumbled out so quickly that they sounded more like a squeak, and Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh. The sound was warm and genuine, not his usual teasing chuckle, and for a moment, it caught you off guard.

“Relax,” he said, still smiling. “I’m just messing with you.”

You frowned, though the heat in your cheeks gave away your flustered state. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice softening. “But you’re fun to mess with.”

The conversation shifted as the brainstorming stalled, both of you leaning back in your chairs and staring at the whiteboard covered in half-formed ideas. The quiet of the room wrapped around you like a cocoon, making the usual tension between you feel strangely less sharp.

“I’ll admit,” Heeseung said after a long pause, “this whole ‘teamwork’ thing isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”

You glanced at him, surprised by his sudden honesty. “Really?”

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the whiteboard. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re still a control freak.”

“Thanks,” you said dryly.

“But…” He hesitated, fiddling with the pen in his hand. “You’re also… good at this. Like, really good. It’s kind of annoying how much you seem to have it all together.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the rare glimpse of vulnerability in his voice. “I don’t, though,” you said quietly. “Have it all together, I mean.”

He finally looked at you, his usual smirk replaced with a softer expression. “You seem like you do. Always calm, always prepared. Meanwhile, I’m just… faking it most of the time.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You? Faking it? You’re one of the smartest people I know, Heeseung. You’re always so confident.”

He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, well, confidence is easy to fake when everyone expects you to be the best. You don’t have a choice but to keep up the act.”

For a moment, the air between you grew heavier, the weight of his words settling over you. You’d always seen Heeseung as this untouchable force—effortlessly talented, infuriatingly self-assured. But now, you realized there was more to him than the arrogant façade he wore so well.

“I get it,” you said softly. “The pressure to prove yourself. To be perfect all the time. It’s exhausting.”

Heeseung looked at you, something unspoken passing between you in the quiet. “I didn’t think you’d understand,” he admitted.

You offered him a small smile. “I’m not as put-together as you think, Heeseung. I just try hard to look like I am.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, and for the first time, it felt like you were truly seeing each other—not as rivals, but as two people navigating the same struggles.

The moment was broken when Heeseung stood suddenly, stretching his arms above his head. “Alright, enough of the deep stuff,” he said, his usual playful tone returning. “I’m grabbing coffee. Want one?”

You nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Black, please.”

“Got it,” he said, heading for the door.

As soon as he left, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Your heart was still racing from the unexpectedly candid conversation, and you couldn’t shake the image of his soft smile from your mind.

In the hallway, Heeseung passed by Chaewon and Jay, who were chatting near the coffee machine. They stopped when they noticed him, exchanging knowing looks.

“Heeseung again?” Chaewon whispered, glancing toward the meeting room.

Jay grinned. “I’m telling you, something’s definitely going on with those two.”

Chaewon giggled. “They’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”

Heeseung cleared his throat loudly, and both of them turned to face him, their expressions suspiciously innocent.

“Can I help you?” Heeseung asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” Chaewon said sweetly, though the glint in her eyes gave her away.

“Just making an observation,” Jay added, smirking.

“Right,” Heeseung said, grabbing two cups of coffee and heading back to the meeting room. He could still hear them whispering behind him, but he chose to ignore it.

When he returned, you looked up from your notes, offering him a small smile as he handed you your coffee.

“Thanks,” you said, your fingers brushing his briefly as you took the cup.

“No problem,” he said, sitting back down across from you. “Ready to get back to it?”

You nodded, though your mind was still reeling from everything that had happened that night.

As the two of you returned to brainstorming, the air between you felt lighter somehow, the sharp edges of your rivalry softened by the quiet understanding you’d found. For the first time, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, working with Heeseung wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The office had officially descended into chaos—or at least, that’s how it felt when Heeseung started leaving silly notes on your desk.

The first one appeared on your keyboard: “Are you sure you’re not a control freak? Just checking.”

You stared at the note, dumbfounded. You immediately turned to see if he was lurking nearby, but he was nowhere in sight.

Annoyed, you crumpled the note and tossed it into the trash, but the smirk on your face betrayed your amusement.

The next day, another note: “Hope your coffee’s as perfect as your ideas. Oh wait, it’s probably not.”

You groaned. It was getting ridiculous. But rather than letting it slide, you decided it was time to strike back.

When Heeseung stepped out for a meeting, you quietly swapped his coffee cup for a decaf. It was a small thing, but you could already picture the look on his face when he took that first sip.

Heeseung retaliated with little acts of sabotage—stealing your pens, hiding your notebooks, and even changing your desktop wallpaper to a picture of a cat in a business suit.

“Really, Heeseung?” you asked, staring at the screen.

“What?” he said, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “It’s a professional look.”

The office watched the pranks unfold with great interest, enjoying every moment of the harmless back-and-forth. Sunghoon and Yuna had taken it upon themselves to organize bets, placing wagers on who would confess their feelings first.

“Heeseung’s gonna crack first,” Sunghoon declared confidently, sipping his coffee. “You can tell by how often he looks at her.”

“You think?” Yuna raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, he’s pretty good at pretending like he’s not interested. But she’s definitely more than a little soft on him.”

The two of them exchanged glances, and you could hear the faint whispers whenever you and Heeseung passed by. It was a weird mix of fun and embarrassment, and you were trying your best to ignore it.

One afternoon, the tension between you and Heeseung reached a new peak. You were deep into a debate about the best direction for the campaign.

“I’m telling you,” you said, tapping the whiteboard with your marker. “This is a great idea. It’s fresh, it’s bold, and it speaks directly to the target audience.”

“Fresh, bold, and completely impractical,” Heeseung shot back, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re missing the whole point. This campaign needs to stand out. Not be a snooze fest.”

“It’s not a snooze fest!” you argued, frustration bubbling up. “It’s grounded in reality!”

Heeseung’s lips twitched into a teasing grin. “Reality’s boring.”

The banter between you both had always been playful, but this time, something was different. The words you exchanged seemed to hang in the air longer, and the intensity of your rivalry felt almost… charged.

You were so focused on arguing that you didn’t notice the loose cord at your feet until it was too late.

One second, you were standing tall, passionately defending your idea. The next, your foot caught on the cord, sending you tumbling forward.

“Heeseung!”

Your heart leapt into your throat as you felt yourself falling, bracing for impact. But before you could hit the floor, a pair of hands shot out and caught you by the waist.

Heeseung’s grip on you was firm, but his breath was shallow as he steadied you. You could feel the warmth of his body so close to yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

You blinked up at him, suddenly aware of how close you were. His face was inches away, his breath mingling with yours. His dark eyes were wide, caught off guard by the accidental intimacy.

“I… uh… you okay?” he asked, his voice sounding oddly strained.

“Yeah… I think so.” You felt your face heat up, but you couldn’t look away. Heeseung’s hands were still on your waist, and your heart was pounding in your chest.

Neither of you seemed to know what to do next. It was as though the world had slowed down for that brief, accidental moment, leaving both of you caught between the lines of rivalry and something else—something neither of you were ready to confront.

Before you could fully process what had happened, Heeseung cleared his throat and gently let go of you.

“Guess I should watch where I’m going,” you said quickly, stepping back and trying to act like nothing happened.

“Yeah, or maybe I should’ve made sure you didn’t trip over that stupid cord,” Heeseung muttered, running a hand through his hair. His usual teasing grin had faltered slightly, replaced by an uncertain expression.

You weren’t sure what to make of it. The moment felt too real.

“So…” you said awkwardly, clearing your throat. “About the campaign.”

Heeseung nodded, his usual smirk creeping back. “Right, back to work. I’m still not convinced by your idea, though.”

“Of course you’re not,” you said, trying to play it cool, though your heart was still racing.

But despite the playful banter, neither of you could fully shake the electricity in the air. It was like something had shifted between you, even if neither of you wanted to admit it.

As the day wore on, the office chatter grew louder.

Chaewon stopped by your desk, raising an eyebrow as she watched you and Heeseung from the corner of her eye.

“Is it just me, or did something happen between you two?” she asked, a sly grin on her face.

“Nothing happened,” you said quickly, too quickly.

Chaewon smirked. “Uh-huh. Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

Jay appeared beside her, and the two exchanged a knowing look.

“So, who’s gonna confess first?” Jay asked, crossing his arms.

You shot him a glare. “We’re not confessing anything.”

But as you glanced toward Heeseung, who was now looking at you with an unreadable expression, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, the lines between rivalry and something more were starting to blur.

The conference room was filled with the low hum of conversation as your team prepped for the big client presentation. BrightSpark Solutions had landed a high-profile meeting with a new client—a startup that had just secured major funding and was looking to revamp its image. This could be a game-changer for the agency, and the pressure was on.

You were ready, dressed in your best professional attire, your notes organized and the presentation slides perfect. But as you made final adjustments to the projector, you couldn’t help but notice the charming man who had just walked in. His name was Eunwoo, the CEO of the new client, and his bright smile seemed to light up the room.

Eunwoo was tall, with well-groomed dark hair and a tailored suit that fit him perfectly. He was charismatic in that way that made everyone in the room immediately pay attention, but he seemed particularly fixated on you. He flashed you a warm smile as you caught his eye, and you offered a polite one back, keeping things professional.

“Shall we get started?” you asked, gesturing to the presentation board.

“Oh, I’m sure this will be impressive,” Eunwoo said smoothly, his voice rich with charm. “But I’m more interested in getting to know you, personally. What do you think of the future of marketing?”

Your eyebrows shot up, caught off guard by his directness. “Well, I think it’s about understanding people more deeply. It’s not just about selling a product, but creating a connection with your audience.”

Eunwoo nodded thoughtfully, his gaze lingering just a little too long. “I couldn’t agree more. It’s refreshing to meet someone with such a deep understanding of what really matters. Maybe you could give me a personal tour of your thoughts sometime.”

The remark was playful, almost flirtatious, and it made you feel a little uncomfortable, though you kept your composure. You had dealt with flirtations before in this line of work, but something about Eunwoo’s attention made you uneasy—especially when you glanced over at Heeseung.

His posture had stiffened, and there was a small crease between his brows as he watched Eunwoo and you interact. Heeseung wasn’t usually the type to be visibly bothered by anything, but now he looked unusually tense.

You turned your attention back to the presentation, trying to focus. “Well, let’s get started,” you said, moving ahead with the first slide.

The meeting proceeded without further incident, but the entire time, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Eunwoo was paying you an unusual amount of attention. And each time he directed a compliment your way, you noticed Heeseung’s gaze shifting between you and the CEO, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

After the meeting, the team gathered in the break room to debrief.

“Great job, everyone,” Manager Kim said, though his attention was clearly focused on the next steps. “We’ll know the client’s decision soon. For now, enjoy the break.”

The team scattered, but you found yourself cornered at the coffee machine by none other than Heeseung, who had been unusually quiet throughout the meeting.

You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up? You’ve barely said a word since the presentation.”

Heeseung’s expression was neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “Nothing,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to the cup in his hands.

You shrugged, not sensing anything wrong. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m not being weird,” Heeseung shot back, though his tone was a little sharper than usual.

You frowned. “Okay, then. Whatever you say.”

You poured yourself a coffee, turning to leave the break room, but Heeseung’s voice stopped you.

“I don’t get it,” he said, almost to himself. “Why was he so… interested in you?”

You turned back, confused. “Eunwoo? He’s just being friendly. It’s part of the job. We’re all supposed to impress the client.”

Heeseung shook his head, his jaw tightening. “No, it’s more than that. He was flirting with you.”

You blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. “What? No, he wasn’t.”

Heeseung’s eyes narrowed. “He was. He was way too interested in you.”

You laughed nervously, unsure of how to react to the sudden tension. “He’s just a charismatic guy, Heeseung. You know, it’s part of his charm.”

Heeseung didn’t respond immediately, his gaze locked on you with a strange intensity. There was something about the way he was looking at you—something almost… possessive.

“Well, he’s got nothing on me,” Heeseung muttered, almost under his breath.

You raised your eyebrows, still not fully understanding the shift in his demeanor. “What are you talking about?”

But Heeseung didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed his own coffee, took a deep sip, and started walking back toward his desk without another word.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze. Every time you tried to approach Heeseung, he was either too busy with work or too lost in his thoughts to acknowledge you. It was as if the playful, teasing side of him had disappeared completely, replaced by an almost… cold detachment.

Chaewon, noticing the change in Heeseung’s behavior, sidled up to you during lunch. “Something’s off with him today,” she remarked, glancing over at Heeseung, who was absorbed in his laptop screen.

“I know, right? He’s been weird since the meeting,” you replied, picking at your salad absentmindedly.

“Do you think… he’s jealous?” Chaewon asked, her voice lowered as if she were sharing a secret.

“Jealous? No way. Heeseung’s not like that,” you scoffed.

But even as you said it, a small part of you couldn’t deny the possibility. The way Heeseung had reacted to Eunwoo’s attention, the way he seemed to care more than he let on—it all felt different.

Chaewon raised an eyebrow. “I’m just saying, it’s a possibility. I mean, who else would have the nerve to act like that if not someone who’s a little jealous?”

You sighed, trying to brush off her teasing. “Please, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Chaewon didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press the issue. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” she said with a grin. “I’m just saying, I can see it.”

Later that day, you caught Heeseung sneaking glances at you from across the office. Every time you looked up, his eyes would flicker away, as if he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. It was almost like he was… waiting for you to make the first move.

It didn’t make sense. Why would Heeseung be acting like this? He’d always been competitive, sure, but this was different. He was acting like you belonged to him in some way—and the strangest part was, you couldn’t figure out if you liked it.

As the day wound down and the office began to empty out, you found yourself standing at your desk, collecting your things for the evening. Heeseung was still there, sitting at his desk, his focus seemingly entirely on his laptop.

Just as you were about to leave, he stood up abruptly.

“I’m not gonna let him get away with it,” he muttered, almost to himself, but loud enough for you to hear.

You blinked, puzzled. “What?”

Heeseung looked up at you, his eyes intense. “I’m not gonna let that CEO keep flirting with you. You’re my—”

He stopped mid-sentence, realizing what he was about to say. His expression changed quickly, and he cleared his throat, looking away. “Never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, he walked out of the office, leaving you standing there, your heart racing from the unexpected exchange.

What had just happened? Was Heeseung… jealous?

It had been an unusually quiet morning at BrightSpark Solutions. Heeseung wasn’t teasing you, no pranks had been played, and he hadn’t made a single sarcastic comment. For some reason, that unsettled you more than the usual chaos.

You were at your desk, editing a campaign brief when a familiar, high-pitched voice broke through the office noise.

“Noona!”

Your head snapped up just as Minjun came barreling toward you, his backpack bouncing as he ran. His cheeks were flushed from the cold air outside, and his smile stretched from ear to ear.

“Minjun!” you exclaimed, standing up just in time to catch him in a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Chaewon-Noona said I could visit since school got out early,” Minjun chirped, his innocent eyes sparkling. “I missed you!”

Chaewon peeked her head around the corner, grinning. “He begged me. I couldn’t say no.”

You smiled warmly, ruffling Minjun’s hair. “Well, I’m glad you’re here, but you know the rules, no causing trouble, okay?”

Minjun nodded obediently before turning to look around the office, his eyes wide with curiosity. That’s when he spotted Heeseung, who was walking toward your desk with a coffee in one hand and a small bag of snacks in the other.

“Is that for me?” you asked, surprised, as Heeseung placed the items on your desk without a word.

“Don’t read too much into it,” he said casually, though there was a flicker of something softer in his expression. “You skipped breakfast again, didn’t you?”

Before you could respond, Minjun piped up, his voice loud and cheerful. “Is he your boyfriend, Noona?”

The office went dead silent.

You froze, your cheeks flushing instantly. “Minjun, what are you talking about?”

Minjun tilted his head innocently, pointing at the snacks. “He brought you food! That’s what boyfriends do!”

The room erupted into laughter, and you could feel every pair of eyes on you.

Heeseung, however, didn’t miss a beat. He crouched down to Minjun’s level, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “You caught me,” he said, winking. “I’m her boyfriend. What gave it away?”

Your jaw dropped. “Heeseung!”

“What?” He straightened up, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “The kid’s got great instincts.”

Minjun clapped his hands together, delighted. “I knew it! You’re a good boyfriend, hyung.”

You buried your face in your hands, mortified. “Minjun, he’s not-”

“Now, now,” Heeseung interrupted, grinning. “Let the kid believe what he wants. It’s harmless.”

Harmless? Your heart was racing, and your face felt like it was on fire. Harmless was the last word you’d use to describe this situation, especially when you could hear Chaewon and Jay whispering behind you.

The rest of the day was a blur. Word spread quickly, and before long, your supposed “relationship” with Heeseung became the talk of the office. Everywhere you went, coworkers gave you knowing smiles, and Sunghoon even had the audacity to ask if wedding bells were in your future.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Chaewon said, trying to stifle her laughter. “Honestly, it’s kind of cute.”

“It’s not cute,” you grumbled, glaring at her.

Chaewon shrugged, clearly unbothered. “If you ask me, Heeseung didn’t seem too bothered by it.”

That comment stayed with you as the day went on. Was Heeseung really unbothered, or was he just better at hiding his feelings than you were?

By the time the workday ended, Minjun had already declared the office his second home. He’d charmed everyone, from the interns to Manager Kim, and even managed to coax a laugh out of Yuna, who rarely broke her professional demeanor.

When it was time to leave, Heeseung surprised you by offering to walk you and Minjun home.

“It’s getting late,” he said, shrugging as if it were no big deal. “And I wouldn’t want Minjun to get tired on the way.”

You hesitated for a moment but ultimately agreed. Minjun was practically bouncing with excitement, holding Heeseung’s hand as you made your way out of the office.

The walk home was surprisingly peaceful. The streets were quieter than usual, and the cool evening air felt refreshing after a long day.

Minjun was full of energy, peppering Heeseung with questions about his job, his favorite foods, and whether or not he liked superheroes.

“I’m more of a villain guy,” Heeseung said with a smirk, causing Minjun to gasp dramatically.

“You can’t be a villain, Hyung! Noona needs a hero!”

Heeseung laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made your heartache in the best way.

“Alright, fine,” he said, ruffling Minjun’s hair. “I’ll be the hero, just for you and your Noona.”

You glanced at him, surprised by how naturally kind he was to Minjun. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen this side of him, but it still caught you off guard. Beneath all the teasing and arrogance, there was a softness to Heeseung that he didn’t let many people see.

When you finally reached your apartment, Minjun was yawning, his earlier excitement fading into sleepy contentment.

“Thanks for walking us home,” you said, unlocking the door.

“No problem,” Heeseung replied, his hands in his pockets. He glanced down at Minjun, who was leaning against your side. “Get some rest, kiddo. Being a matchmaker must be exhausting.”

Minjun giggled, his voice muffled by your coat. “Goodnight, hyung.”

As you ushered Minjun inside, you turned back to Heeseung one last time.

“Goodnight,” you said softly.

Heeseung smiled, his usual smirk replaced by something softer. “Goodnight, control freak.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face. As you closed the door, you realized something had shifted between you and Heeseung.

It wasn’t just rivalry anymore. It was something more, something you weren’t quite ready to name—but something you knew you wouldn’t be able to ignore.

The client meeting had gone surprisingly well. Even Heeseung, who usually found something to nitpick, seemed impressed. You were feeling pretty good about yourself as the two of you left the client’s office building and stepped out onto the busy downtown street.

But as you glanced up at the darkening sky, your optimism began to fade. The once-pleasant afternoon had given way to ominous clouds, and the air was heavy with the promise of rain.

“We should hurry,” you said, quickening your pace.

Heeseung, walking leisurely beside you, shoved his hands into his pockets. “Relax, it’s just a little rain. You’re acting like it’s a hurricane.”

You shot him a look. “You say that now, but I’ll be the one stuck listening to you complain when your shoes get wet.”

Heeseung smirked, clearly unbothered. “I don’t complain. I just… make insightful observations.”

Before you could respond, the first drops of rain began to fall, quickly escalating into a full-blown downpour. People on the street scrambled for cover, and you grabbed Heeseung’s arm, dragging him toward the nearest coffee shop.

The small café was cozy and crowded, filled with people seeking refuge from the rain. You managed to snag a table by the window, the two of you sitting across from each other as the rain pounded against the glass.

“Great. Now we’re stuck,” you muttered, shaking the water off your jacket.

“Could be worse,” Heeseung said, leaning back in his chair. “At least we have coffee.”

You sighed, brushing your damp hair out of your face. Heeseung had already ordered for both of you—your usual latte and his preferred black coffee—and was now watching you with an amused expression.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Nothing,” he said, though his grin suggested otherwise. “You just look very… flustered.”

“I’m not flustered,” you said quickly, though you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Because you’ve been glaring at me since we sat down.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your latte to avoid responding. The truth was, being stuck with Heeseung in such close quarters was throwing you off more than you cared to admit.

By the time the rain finally eased up, it was nearly evening, and the streets were still slick with water.

“Let’s go,” you said, standing up and grabbing your bag. “We’ll miss the last bus if we wait any longer.”

Heeseung followed you outside, where the rain had slowed to a light drizzle. You were about to start walking when he reached into his bag and pulled out an umbrella.

“Since when do you carry an umbrella?” you asked, genuinely surprised.

Heeseung shrugged, opening the umbrella with a practiced motion. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

The umbrella was just big enough for two people, and you hesitated for a moment before stepping under it. Heeseung tilted it slightly to make sure you were fully covered, and you tried to ignore the way your shoulders brushed as you began walking.

The streets were quiet, the sound of rain and your footsteps the only noise. You were both silent at first, but the tension between you was palpable.

“Why are you so quiet?” Heeseung finally asked, glancing at you.

“I’m just tired,” you replied, though that wasn’t entirely true. Being this close to him was making it hard to think straight.

Heeseung chuckled softly. “Tired, huh? Or are you still mad about earlier?”

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“At the meeting,” he said, his tone light but teasing. “You got all defensive when I said your presentation was ‘too polished.’”

You stopped walking, turning to face him. “Because you always have to find something to criticize. Why can’t you just admit when I do a good job?”

Heeseung blinked, caught off guard by your sudden outburst. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just joking—”

“That’s the problem!” you interrupted, your voice trembling slightly. “You’re always joking. You never take anything seriously.”

Heeseung’s grip on the umbrella tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to argue. But then his expression softened, and he let out a frustrated sigh.

“I take you seriously, okay?” he said, his voice quieter than before.

You stared at him, stunned into silence.

“I take you seriously,” he repeated, his gaze meeting yours. “Probably more than anyone else.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and you didn’t know how to respond. Before you could say anything, Heeseung cleared his throat and looked away, his usual smirk creeping back onto his face.

“Anyway,” he said, shifting the umbrella slightly, “let’s get going before you catch a cold.”

The rest of the walk was quiet, but the atmosphere between you had changed. You couldn’t stop thinking about what Heeseung had said, the sincerity in his voice lingering in your mind.

When you finally reached the bus station, Heeseung held the umbrella over you until you were safely under the awning.

“Thanks,” you said softly, your heart still racing.

Heeseung nodded, his usual playful demeanor returning. “Don’t get used to it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the small smile on your face betrayed you. As you boarded the bus, you couldn’t help but glance back at him one last time, wondering if there was more to Heeseung than you’d ever realized.

The morning started as it always did—with a new wave of gossip.

“Did you hear? Apparently, they walked home together last night.”

“Are they actually dating? Or is it just Heeseung being… Heeseung?”

You sighed as you overheard the whispers from the interns near the coffee machine. It had been like this for days, ever since Minjun’s “boyfriend” declaration. No matter how many times you denied it, the rumor mill at BrightSpark Solutions only seemed to churn faster.

“Heeseung brought her coffee again this morning,” Yuna muttered to Sunghoon, who was pouring sugar into his tea. “That’s not normal coworker behavior, right?”

“Definitely not,” Sunghoon replied, grinning. “I’m putting my money on him confessing first.”

You tried to tune them out as you made your way to your desk, but it was impossible to ignore the smug look on Chaewon’s face as she leaned over your cubicle.

“So,” she began, resting her chin on her hands, “how’s the office power couple doing today?”

“Chaewon,” you groaned, dropping your bag onto your chair. “Please stop.”

She smirked, undeterred. “I’m just saying, you two have been spending a lot of time together lately. And the way he looks at you—”

“There’s nothing going on,” you said firmly, though your cheeks betrayed you by flushing pink.

Chaewon raised an eyebrow. “Sure there isn’t. But for the record, I think you two would be adorable together.”

Before you could respond, Heeseung strolled into the office, his usual confident stride turning more heads than you cared to admit. He flashed you a lazy grin as he walked by, and you quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in your laptop.

Chaewon snickered. “Yup. Totally nothing going on.”

By lunchtime, the gossip had reached ridiculous levels. Even Manager Kim, who was usually oblivious to office drama, commented on how “well you and Heeseung have been working together lately.”

But the real chaos began when Chaewon and Jay decided to intervene.

“We need to speed this up,” Jay whispered as the two of them huddled near the printer.

Chaewon nodded, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Agreed. It’s painfully obvious they like each other, but neither of them is going to make the first move.”

Jay grinned. “I have an idea. How do you feel about supply rooms?”

You were in the middle of reviewing campaign drafts when Chaewon appeared beside your desk, looking unusually serious.

“Hey, can you help me grab some supplies from the storage room?” she asked.

You frowned. “What do you need? I can grab it for you.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she insisted, waving her hand. “I just need an extra pair of hands. It’ll only take a minute.”

Reluctantly, you followed her to the supply room, which was tucked away in a quiet corner of the office. When you stepped inside, the shelves were packed with office supplies, and the faint smell of cardboard lingered in the air.

“What exactly are we looking for?” you asked, glancing around.

“Uh, paper clips,” Chaewon said vaguely.

You turned to ask her where they were, only to find her standing in the doorway with a sly smile.

“Chaewon, what are you—”

Before you could finish, she shut the door and turned the lock.

“Good luck!” she called through the door, her laughter echoing as she walked away.

“Chaewon!” you shouted, jiggling the handle. It wouldn’t budge.

Just then, you heard footsteps behind you, and you turned to see Heeseung standing in the middle of the room, holding a box of printer paper.

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking genuinely confused.

You groaned, leaning your forehead against the door. “Chaewon locked us in.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “Locked us in? Why?”

“Because she’s Chaewon,” you muttered. “And because everyone in this office has apparently decided that we’re their new favorite soap opera.”

Heeseung chuckled, setting the box down on a nearby shelf. “I mean, can you blame them? We are pretty entertaining.”

You shot him a glare, but he just smirked, clearly enjoying your frustration.

For the next fifteen minutes, the two of you tried everything to get the door open, from picking the lock with a paperclip—to calling Jay, who conveniently “couldn’t hear his phone.”

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, sitting down on a crate.

“Agreed,” Heeseung said, leaning against the wall. “But hey, at least it’s not the worst place to be stuck. We’ve got snacks.”

You followed his gaze to a shelf stocked with granola bars and bottled water, and you couldn’t help but laugh despite yourself.

“Glad to see you’re making the best of this,” you said dryly.

Heeseung shrugged, his expression softening. “You should try it sometime. Not everything has to be a big deal, you know.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond. The truth was, you were starting to envy Heeseung’s ability to stay so relaxed in any situation.

As the minutes ticked by, the silence between you grew heavier. You found yourself stealing glances at Heeseung, wondering—against your better judgment, what he was thinking.

Finally, he broke the silence.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he said, tilting his head. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” you lied, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, you can tell me. We’re stuck here anyway.”

You hesitated, debating whether or not to say anything. But the weight of the gossip, the teasing, and your own swirling feelings finally got to you.

“Do you ever… wonder if people are right about us?” you asked softly, not meeting his gaze.

Heeseung blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Right about what?”

“About… us,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and you immediately regretted bringing it up.

But then he smiled, his expression unusually sincere. “Well, I can’t speak for them,” he said, “but I know what I think.”

You looked up at him, your heart pounding. “And what do you think?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but just then, the door creaked open, and Jay’s grinning face appeared.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jay said, clearly not sorry at all. “But Chaewon said I had to let you out eventually.”

You quickly stood up, brushing past Jay without a word. Heeseung followed behind you, his usual smirk firmly back in place.

“Let’s call this a draw,” he said, leaning down so only you could hear. “For now.”

The office was eerily quiet at night. Most of your coworkers had already left, the usual hum of conversation and clatter of keyboards replaced by the steady ticking of the wall clock.

You glanced at the time—9:14 PM.

“Remind me why we’re still here,” you mumbled, rubbing your tired eyes.

Heeseung, sitting across from you at the shared desk, looked up from his laptop with a mischievous grin. “Because we’re perfectionists. Or at least you are. I’m just here for moral support.”

You shot him a look. “Moral support? You’ve done nothing but steal my snacks and make fun of my color schemes.”

“I call it constructive criticism,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. Despite his teasing, Heeseung had actually been helpful tonight. The campaign you were working on was one of the biggest projects of your career, and his sharp eye for detail had saved you from more than one embarrassing mistake.

Still, working late with him came with its challenges—namely, how effortlessly he managed to get under your skin.

The two of you had been at it for hours, but the atmosphere had shifted as the night wore on. The usual bickering gave way to something quieter, more comfortable. At some point, Heeseung had moved his chair closer to yours, and now you were sitting so close that your elbows brushed whenever you reached for something on the desk.

“Okay, hear me out,” Heeseung said, breaking the silence. “What if we scrap the entire tagline and go with something simpler? Like, ‘Bold ideas for a bold future.’”

You looked at him skeptically. “That’s… not terrible. But it sounds like every other campaign ever made.”

Heeseung feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow. Remind me never to share my brilliant ideas with you again.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll take your ideas seriously when you take mine seriously.”

“I do take you seriously,” he said, his tone softening. “I wouldn’t still be here if I didn’t.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and you found yourself meeting his gaze. For a moment, neither of you said anything.

“Anyway,” Heeseung said after a beat, breaking the silence. “How’s this for an alternative tagline: ‘BrightSpark—lighting up your tomorrow’?”

You groaned. “That’s even worse. Were you trying to make it sound like a toothpaste ad?”

Heeseung burst out laughing, and you couldn’t help but join in. The sound of your laughter filled the empty office, and for a moment, you forgot about the project, the deadlines, and everything else.

As the laughter died down, you realized how close Heeseung had leaned toward you. His elbow rested on the desk, his chin propped on his hand, and his eyes were fixed on yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

You froze, suddenly hyperaware of the small space between you. The playful teasing in his expression had been replaced by something else—something that made your stomach flutter.

“Heeseung,” you said softly, your voice barely audible.

He tilted his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. “What?”

“I—” You didn’t know what you were going to say, and before you could figure it out, the moment was interrupted by the sound of the office door opening.

“Hey, are you guys still—oh.”

You turned to see Sunghoon standing in the doorway, a folder in his hand and a curious look on his face.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, though the smirk tugging at his lips suggested he already knew the answer.

“No,” you said quickly, scooting your chair back. “We were just… working.”

“Right,” Sunghoon said, clearly unconvinced. He walked over to your desk and set the folder down. “Manager Kim wanted me to drop this off. Something about final approvals.”

“Thanks,” Heeseung said, his tone casual, though you noticed he avoided looking at Sunghoon.

Sunghoon lingered for a moment, glancing between the two of you before finally walking away.

As soon as he was gone, you let out a frustrated sigh.

“Well, that was awkward,” you muttered, avoiding Heeseung’s gaze.

He chuckled softly. “It’s Sunghoon. Everything he does is awkward.”

Despite yourself, you laughed. But the charged moment from earlier still lingered in the back of your mind, making it hard to focus on anything else.

The two of you worked in relative silence for the next hour, though the atmosphere felt different. Every time Heeseung leaned closer to point something out on your laptop screen, your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t stop wondering if he had felt the same tension as you had earlier.

By the time you finally wrapped up for the night, it was nearly midnight.

“Ready to call it a night?” Heeseung asked, stretching his arms over his head.

“Definitely,” you said, packing up your things.

As you walked out of the office together, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the stuffy office.

“Thanks for sticking around tonight,” you said as you reached the subway station. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Heeseung smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Anytime. But don’t get used to it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the teasing tone in his voice made you smile.

As you went on the bus, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you and Heeseung had shifted—and that it was only a matter of time before things changed even more.

The evening started like any other, with you rushing home after work, exhausted but relieved to finally relax. Minjun had been unusually quiet during dinner prep, which should have been your first clue that something was up.

“Minjun,” you called from the kitchen, where you were chopping vegetables. “Can you set the table? Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Okay!” he chirped from the living room.

It wasn’t until the doorbell rang that you realized he was up to something. You frowned, wiping your hands on a towel. “Were we expecting someone?”

Minjun poked his head around the corner, grinning mischievously. “I might’ve invited someone over.”

Your heart sank. Minjun had a habit of inviting his friends over at the worst possible times—like the time he brought three classmates home right before your big presentation, leaving you scrambling to entertain them.

“Who did you invite?” you asked warily.

Before he could answer, the doorbell rang again, and Minjun darted to open it.

“Hi, Heeseung!” Minjun’s excited voice echoed through the apartment.

Your stomach dropped.

“Minjun!” you hissed, rushing to the door just in time to see Heeseung step inside, a bemused smile on his face.

“Hope I’m not intruding,” Heeseung said, holding up a bag of takeout desserts. “Your little brother insisted I come over for dinner. Said you needed some company.”

You glared at Minjun, who was bouncing on his toes like he’d just pulled off the prank of the century. “Minjun, you can’t just invite people over without telling me!”

“But you’re always talking about him,” Minjun said innocently. “And he brought cake!”

Heeseung laughed, clearly amused by the situation. “I promise I didn’t mean to crash your dinner. I can leave if you want.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “No, it’s fine. You’re here now. Might as well stay.”

Dinner was… chaotic, to say the least.

Minjun, thrilled to have Heeseung as a guest, spent the entire meal peppering him with questions.

“So, Heeseung,” Minjun began, his eyes sparkling with curiosity, “do you like my Noona?”

You nearly choked on your rice. “Minjun!”

“What?” Minjun said, blinking innocently. “He’s always nice to you. And he brings you coffee. Isn’t that what boyfriends do?”

“Minjun, that’s enough,” you said firmly, your cheeks burning.

Heeseung, however, took it in stride. He leaned back in his chair, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I mean, your Noona’s great. Who wouldn’t like her?”

Your eyes widened, and Minjun gasped dramatically. “So you do like her!”

“Minjun!” you exclaimed, wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

Heeseung laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “I didn’t say that. But for the record, your Noona is pretty amazing.”

You stared at him, too flustered to respond. Minjun, meanwhile, was grinning like he’d just solved the mystery of the century.

As the meal went on, Minjun’s questions only got worse.

“When are you getting married?”

“Minjun!”

“How many kids do you want?”

“MINJUN!”

Despite your mortification, Heeseung handled it like a pro. He answered Minjun’s questions with good-natured humor, all while sneaking in compliments that made your heart race.

“She’d make an amazing partner,” he said at one point, glancing at you with a soft smile. “She’s kind, hardworking, and always looking out for the people she cares about.”

You froze, unsure how to respond. Was he just playing along for Minjun’s sake, or did he actually mean it?

After dinner, Minjun insisted on showing Heeseung his favorite video game, leaving you to clean up in the kitchen. You were halfway through washing the dishes when Heeseung appeared beside you, rolling up his sleeves.

“You don’t have to help,” you said, glancing at him.

He shrugged, grabbing a dish towel. “I want to. Plus, it’s the least I can do after crashing your dinner.”

You smiled despite yourself. “This was all Minjun’s idea, you know.”

“I figured,” he said, laughing. “The kid’s a natural matchmaker.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t encourage him.”

For a while, the two of you worked in comfortable silence, the sound of running water and clinking dishes filling the room. But as the last plate was dried, Heeseung spoke, his voice softer than usual.

“You know,” he began, folding the dish towel and setting it aside, “Minjun’s not wrong about everything he said tonight.”

You froze your hands stilling over the sink. “What do you mean?”

He leaned against the counter, his gaze steady and unwavering. “I mean, he’s right about you being amazing. And about me liking you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You turned to face him. “Heeseung, I—”

“I’m not saying it to make you uncomfortable,” he added quickly, his usual playful grin replaced with something more sincere. “I just… I feel like I’ve been dancing around it for too long, and Minjun kind of gave me the push I needed. You don’t have to say anything, but I wanted you to know.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. Heeseung liked you? Heeseung—the same person who teased you relentlessly and called you a control freak—actually liked you?

“I… don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t have to say anything right now. Just think about it. And, for the record, I think Minjun would make a great best man someday.”

Your cheeks burned, but before you could respond, Minjun bounded into the kitchen, holding a controller.

“Heeseung, come play with me! I need someone on my team!”

Heeseung straightened up, giving you one last smile before turning to Minjun. “Alright, little man. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

As the two of them disappeared into the living room, you leaned against the counter, your heart pounding.

Heeseung liked you.

The morning started like any other at BrightSpark Solutions: the hum of conversations, the rhythmic clicking of keyboards, and the faint aroma of coffee wafting through the air. But for you, there was a noticeable difference—Heeseung.

Ever since his unexpected confession at your apartment, things between the two of you had been different. Not awkward, surprisingly, but more… charged. His teasing had taken on a softer edge, and you found yourself smiling more often, even when he was being his usual annoying self.

Today, he was seated at the desk beside yours, balancing a pen on his finger while waiting for his files to load.

“Hey,” he said, leaning slightly toward you, the pen rolling off his hand. “Do you think we should pitch the ‘Bold Futures’ tagline today? Or do you want to play it safe with the original idea?”

You barely glanced up from your laptop. “The ‘Bold Futures’ tagline is a death sentence. Stick with the original.”

He grinned, resting his chin on his palm. “You’re so confident. It’s honestly intimidating sometimes.”

You arched an eyebrow, finally meeting his gaze. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not,” he said smoothly. “It’s actually kind of hot.”

Your breath hitched, and you quickly looked away, your face warming. “Heeseung!”

“What?” he said, laughing softly. “Am I wrong?”

Before you could respond, he casually reached over and tugged the pen from your hand.

“Hey!” you said, glaring at him.

“You’ve been clicking this for the past five minutes,” he said, spinning the pen between his fingers. “It’s distracting.”

“It’s my pen,” you shot back, reaching for it.

Heeseung smirked, holding it out of your reach. “Not anymore.”

You stood up, trying to grab it, but he quickly leaned back, holding the pen over his head.

“Lee Heeseung!” you said, half-laughing, half-annoyed.

“What’s the magic word?” he teased, his grin widening.

“Give. It. Back.”

“Close, but no cigar,” he said, enjoying himself far too much.

You reached for the pen again, leaning across the desk, and your fingers brushed against his hand just as your coworker Sunghoon let out an exaggerated cough.

You froze.

Slowly, you turned to see half the office staring at you, some with raised eyebrows, others barely suppressing laughter.

The moment was short-lived, though, because Manager Kim stepped out of his office, his sharp gaze zeroing in on you and Heeseung.

“Lee, Y/N,” he called, his tone stern.

You and Heeseung straightened up immediately, the playful atmosphere evaporating.

“Could you come to my office for a moment?”

“Yes, sir,” you both said in unison, shooting each other a look as you followed him into the glass-walled room.

Manager Kim folded his arms, leaning back against his desk. “I’ve been watching you two lately,” he began, his tone measured but firm. “You seem… very comfortable with each other.”

Your stomach sank.

“I don’t mind a little camaraderie among coworkers,” he continued. “But this project is too important to risk any distractions. So, from now on, you’ll be working on separate tasks. Understood?”

Your eyes widened. “Separate tasks?”

He nodded. “Y/N, you’ll focus on the visuals and presentation materials. Heeseung, you’ll handle the copy and client communication. Report directly to me if you need clarification.”

“But-” you started to protest, only to be cut off by Heeseung.

“Understood, sir,” he said smoothly, his expression neutral.

You glanced at him, surprised by his calm acceptance. Manager Kim dismissed you both, and as you walked back to your desks, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of frustration.

The next few days felt… wrong.

You missed the easy banter and playful arguments that had made working with Heeseung bearable—even fun. Without him by your side, the office felt dull, the silence almost oppressive.

Every time you glanced over at his desk, you found him hunched over his laptop, headphones in, completely focused on his work. He didn’t even glance your way, and it stung more than you cared to admit.

Chaewon, ever observant, noticed your foul mood almost immediately.

“Okay, spill,” she said, sitting on the edge of your desk during lunch. “Why do you look like someone stole your puppy?”

You sighed, poking at your salad with a fork. “It’s nothing.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly unconvinced. “Does this ‘nothing’ have anything to do with Heeseung?”

You looked up sharply, and she smirked. “Thought so. What happened?”

“Manager Kim split us up,” you admitted. “We’re working on separate tasks now.”

“And you’re sad because…?”

“I’m not sad,” you said quickly, but Chaewon raised an eyebrow.

“You miss him,” she said matter-of-factly. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

You opened your mouth to protest but closed it again, realizing she was right.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the office, Jay was having a very similar conversation with Heeseung.

“You’ve been weirdly quiet lately,” Jay said, leaning back in his chair. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Heeseung said, typing furiously on his keyboard.

Jay snorted. “Right. And I’m the CEO of BrightSpark. Come on, man, talk to me. Is this about Y/N?”

Heeseung paused, his fingers hovering over the keys. “Manager Kim split us up.”

“And?”

“And it’s… annoying,” Heeseung admitted. “I’m used to working with her. Now it feels like something’s missing.”

Jay chuckled. “Look, just hang in there. Knowing Y/N, she’s probably just as miserable as you are right now.”

By the end of the week, you couldn’t take it anymore. You missed Heeseung’s annoying jokes, his ridiculous nicknames for you, and even the way he stole your pens.

As you packed up for the day, you glanced over at his desk one last time. He was still there, his head bent over his laptop.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over and tapped his shoulder.

Heeseung looked up, surprised. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said softly. “I, uh… I just wanted to say that I miss working with you. It’s weird, not having you around.”

His expression softened, and for the first time all week, you saw a hint of the familiar grin you’d missed so much.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice equally quiet. “I miss it too.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the unspoken understanding between you saying more than words ever could.

As you walked out of the office together, you couldn’t help but smile.

TYPING THING

The office was unusually quiet for a Friday afternoon, with most of the staff either wrapping up for the weekend or grabbing coffee to get through the last stretch of the day. You were at your desk, double-checking slides for the upcoming client presentation, your focus unwavering.

Heeseung, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as productive.

For the last twenty minutes, he’d been sitting at his desk, staring at the small piece of paper in his hand. Scribbled on it were the words he’d been too chicken to say out loud:

I like you. More than I probably should. But I think you’re amazing.

Heeseung read the note for the fiftieth time, his nerves getting the best of him. It wasn’t grand or overly poetic, but it was honest, and it was him. He figured that might be enough.

He cast a glance at your desk. You were so absorbed in your work, your soft voice barely audible as you answered a question from Yuna. Heeseung felt his heart skip a beat, and before he could overthink it, he folded the note and slipped it into your desk drawer when no one was looking.

“Step one complete,” he muttered to himself, quickly returning to his desk and pretending to work.

Later that evening, you packed up your things and headed out with Minjun, who had insisted on meeting you at work. Heeseung had ruffled Minjun’s hair on the way out, earning a cheeky “Bye, hyung!” that left Heeseung smiling to himself.

But what neither of you noticed was that Minjun, curious as ever, had opened your desk drawer while waiting for you. He’d seen the folded piece of paper and thought it was a doodle Heeseung left for him (a habit Heeseung had developed during Minjun’s office visits). Without a second thought, Minjun tucked the note into his pocket.

The next morning, you were seated at the breakfast table, sipping tea as Minjun bounded into the room, holding a piece of paper.

“Noona!” he chirped, waving it in front of your face. “Look what I found in your drawer!”

You blinked, setting your mug down. “What is it?”

Minjun handed it over proudly, and your stomach did a backflip as your eyes scanned the words.

I like you. More than I probably should. But I think you’re amazing.

Your heart raced. You immediately recognized Heeseung’s handwriting.

Minjun grinned innocently, leaning on the table. “Is it from your boyfriend?”

“W-What?” you stammered, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

“Isn’t it from Heeseung Hyung?” Minjun asked, tilting his head. “He’s always smiling at you. And he brought you snacks the other day. That’s what boyfriends do, right?”

You couldn’t decide if you wanted to laugh or hide under the table. “Minjun, it’s not–he’s not-”

Minjun pouted. “But I like him. Can’t he be your boyfriend?”

You sighed, folding the note and setting it aside. “It’s complicated, okay?”

“Why?” Minjun asked, his wide, innocent eyes making your heartache. “Do you not like him?”

Your face burned. “Minjun, eat your breakfast.”

Minjun grinned knowingly, taking a big bite of toast. “You do like him,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food.

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. This was not how you imagined starting your weekend.

Meanwhile, Heeseung was at home, pacing his living room.

“She’s going to see it today,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “And she’s either going to think I’m sweet or an idiot. Probably an idiot.”

Jay, who was lounging on Heeseung’s couch, looked up from his phone. “You’re overthinking it. She’s definitely going to think it’s sweet.”

“You don’t know that,” Heeseung shot back.

Jay shrugged. “Okay, but let’s say she does like it. Then what?”

Heeseung froze. “I… don’t know. Confess, I guess?”

Jay smirked. “You ‘guess’? Come on, man, you’ve been pining after her for months. You need to have a plan.”

Heeseung groaned, flopping onto the couch beside Jay. “Why is this so hard?”

“Because you’re making it hard,” Jay said. “Just tell her how you feel. Worst-case scenario, she doesn’t feel the same, and you move on.”

Heeseung glared at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Back at your apartment, you stared at the note again, Minjun’s words echoing in your mind.

Was it possible that Heeseung really felt that way? The thought made your chest tighten, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you.

Chaewon’s voice rang in your head: You miss him. Don’t even try to deny it.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and opened a text thread with Heeseung.

Hey, are you free later? I think we need to talk.

Your finger hovered over the send button for a moment before you hit it, your heart pounding.

Seconds later, the “typing…” bubble appeared, and your stomach flipped.

Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?

You smiled faintly. That was so like him—always checking in.

Yeah. I’ll let you know when I’m free.

As you set your phone down, Minjun peeked over your shoulder, his face lighting up. “Are you texting Heeseung Hyung?”

You gave him a look. “Don’t you have homework to do?”

Minjun grinned. “Nope! Can I invite him over for dinner again?”

You sighed, ruffling his hair. “Maybe.”

Minjun beamed, clearly pleased with himself. As he darted off to watch cartoons, you shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Minjun might have been a little troublemaker, but you had to admit—his matchmaking skills weren’t half bad.

The afternoon passed in a blur of anxious thoughts and restless pacing. You had texted Heeseung again, asking him to meet you at a quiet café near your apartment. It was a neutral, low-pressure spot, perfect for whatever this conversation would turn out to be.

As you sat at a corner table, fiddling with the edge of your cup, you tried to mentally rehearse what you would say. But every time you formed a sentence in your head, it sounded either too vague or too awkward.

The sound of the bell above the door snapped you out of your thoughts. Heeseung walked in, scanning the room until his eyes landed on you. He smiled, his usual confidence tempered with a hint of curiosity.

“Hey,” he said as he slid into the seat across from you. “What’s up? You seemed… serious.”

Your heart pounded. He looked too good in his casual hoodie and jeans, his hair slightly tousled as if he’d just rolled out of bed.

You forced yourself to smile. “Thanks for coming. I just—there’s something I need to ask you.”

Heeseung tilted his head, leaning forward slightly. “Go ahead.”

You reached into your bag, pulling out the folded note Minjun had so helpfully delivered. Placing it on the table between you, you said, “I think this is yours.”

His expression froze. For a moment, he stared at the paper as if it were a live grenade. Then, with a nervous laugh, he picked it up.

“Ah… so you found it,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Actually, Minjun found it,” you said, unable to hide your small smile. “He was convinced it was from my ‘boyfriend.’”

Heeseung groaned, covering his face with one hand. “Of course he did.”

You bit your lip, watching as he slowly set the note down. “Is it true? What you wrote?”

Heeseung took a deep breath, his playful mask slipping for a moment. “Yeah, it’s true.”

Your eyes widened slightly. You had expected him to dodge, to brush it off with a joke, but here he was, being completely honest.

“I’ve liked you for a while now,” he continued, his voice softer than usual. “I just… didn’t know how to tell you. And I wasn’t sure if you felt the same.”

Your heart felt like it was doing cartwheels. “Heeseung, I—”

He cut you off, his gaze meeting yours. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t feel the same. I get it. I just needed you to know.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache. You took a shaky breath, your voice barely above a whisper. “I do feel the same.”

Heeseung blinked, his surprise evident. “You… do?”

You nodded, your cheeks burning. “I didn’t realize it at first, but… I think I’ve liked you for a while, too.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the confession settling over the table. Then Heeseung’s lips curved into a grin.

“So… does this mean Minjun was right?” he teased, his confidence returning. “I am your boyfriend now?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Don’t push your luck.”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Too late. I’m never going to let Minjun live this down.”

You shook your head, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through you at the thought.

When you walked through the door later that evening, Minjun was waiting in the living room, his face lighting up the moment he saw you.

“Did you see Heeseung Hyung?” he asked eagerly.

You sighed, ruffling his hair. “Yes, Minjun, I saw him.”

“And?”

“And… you were right.”

Minjun’s eyes widened. “So he is your boyfriend now?”

You groaned, but your blush gave you away. “Go do your homework!”

Minjun darted away with a triumphant grin, leaving you to collapse onto the couch, your heart still racing.

This wasn’t how you had imagined things unfolding, but as chaotic as it had been, you couldn’t help but feel like everything was exactly as it should be.

The day of the big project presentation had finally arrived, and the energy at BrightSpark Solutions was electric. After months of brainstorming, late-night revisions, and a few too many arguments that had led to your newfound relationship, it all came down to this moment.

You were pacing the hallway outside the conference room, clutching a printed copy of the pitch deck. Heeseung leaned casually against the wall, watching you with an amused smile.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet,” he teased.

You shot him a glare, though your lips twitched with a smile. “This is huge, Heeseung. What if something goes wrong?”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong,” he said confidently, stepping closer and gently prying the deck from your hands. “We’ve practiced this a hundred times. You’ve got this. We’ve got this.”

You sighed, the warmth in his voice calming your nerves. “You’re way too relaxed.”

He smirked, leaning down slightly. “That’s why we make such a great team. You worry enough for both of us.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered. Even now, his confidence was annoyingly reassuring.

Inside the conference room, the air was thick with tension as the high-profile clients took their seats. Manager Kim gave you both a firm nod before signaling for you to begin.

As the presentation unfolded, you and Heeseung fell into a seamless rhythm. Your calm, explanations paired perfectly with his engaging, charismatic delivery. The clients nodded along, visibly impressed by the visuals and strategies you’d spent countless nights perfecting.

By the time the Q&A session ended, the clients exchanged a few whispered words before standing.

“This is exactly what we were looking for,” one of them said with a smile. “We’re excited to move forward with BrightSpark.”

Relief flooded you as the room erupted into polite applause. You glanced at Heeseung, who grinned and gave you a small thumbs-up.

The second you stepped out of the conference room, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “We did it,” you whispered, leaning against the wall.

Heeseung stood beside you, his grin widening. “No, you did it. You were amazing in there.”

You shook your head, still catching your breath. “We both did it. This wouldn’t have happened without you.”

Heeseung turned to face you fully, his expression softening. “Well, I’m proud of us. But mostly, I’m proud of you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. The noise of the office faded into the background as he stepped closer.

Before you could overthink it, Heeseung tilted his head and whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

Your breath caught, and you managed a small nod.

Heeseung leaned in, his hand gently brushing against yours as his lips met yours in a kiss that was both soft and electric. For a moment, everything else disappeared, and all you could think about was how right this felt.

The door to the conference room burst open, and the sound of cheering snapped you back to reality.

“Congratulations!” Chaewon shouted, leading a group of coworkers who had clearly been eavesdropping.

You and Heeseung jumped apart, your faces turning bright red as the group flooded into the hallway.

“Oh my god,” Yuna squealed. “Were you guys just kissing?”

“I knew it!” Jay crowed, pointing at Heeseung. “You owe me twenty bucks!”

Heeseung groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Seriously? You guys couldn’t give us five minutes?”

Chaewon smirked, crossing her arms. “Not a chance. Besides, it’s about time you two got together officially.”

You buried your face in your hands, utterly mortified. Heeseung, however, quickly recovered and slung an arm around your shoulder.

“Alright, alright, let’s hear it,” he said, grinning. “How many of you had bets going?”

Nearly everyone raised their hands, much to your dismay.

“I hate all of you,” you mumbled, though you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

As the celebration continued, you found a quiet moment with Heeseung near the break room.

“Well, that wasn’t exactly how I pictured our first kiss,” you admitted, your cheeks still warm.

Heeseung laughed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Yeah, but it’s kind of perfect, isn’t it? Pure chaos—just like us.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

Heeseung’s gaze softened, and he laced his fingers with yours. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

As the sound of your coworkers’ laughter echoed down the hall, you realized he was right. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. And that made it more than enough.

BrightSpark Solutions buzzed with its usual energy, but this time, it was different. The project that had brought you and Heeseung together had long since been wrapped up, earning the company not only a high-profile client but also a glowing reputation. However, the real headline—according to the office gossip mill—was that the two of you were now officially dating.

As you walked into the office hand in hand with Heeseung, the sound of mock cheering and applause greeted you.

“Oh, look! The lovebirds have arrived,” Jay called out, grinning from his desk.

Yuna leaned over, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Should we throw you another party, or is it too soon?”

Chaewon gave a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, it’s exhausting watching you two be so cute all the time.”

You rolled your eyes, your cheeks flushing. “I don’t know why you guys are so obsessed with us.”

“Because you’re finally together after months of unresolved tension!” Yuna exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Do you know how hard it was to watch that? It was like a slow-burn romance novel, but with fewer cliffhangers.”

Heeseung laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Admit it, though. It was worth the wait.”

Jay pretended to gag. “Ugh, save it for after work. Some of us are single, you know.”

Later that day, Minjun made his usual post-school visit to the office, bouncing in with the enthusiasm only a child could muster.

“Hi, Noona! Hi, Heeseung hyung!” he greeted, skipping over to your desk.

“Hey, buddy,” Heeseung said, crouching down to Minjun’s level. “What’s up?”

Minjun puffed out his chest like he had an important announcement. “I told my teacher that I have a new brother now.”

Your jaw dropped. “Minjun!”

“What?” he said innocently. “You told me Heeseung Hyung is your boyfriend, and boyfriends are basically brothers, right?”

Heeseung bit back a laugh, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. “I mean, he’s not wrong.”

Minjun beamed, clearly proud of himself. “And when are you getting married? Can I be the ring boy? I’ll wear a suit!”

The office erupted into laughter, Chaewon and Jay practically falling out of their chairs.

“Minjun, we’re not—” you started, but Minjun wasn’t done.

“And after that, are you gonna have kids? Can I help name them? I think ‘Superman’ would be a good name if it’s a boy.”

Yuna choked on her coffee, while Heeseung leaned against your desk, absolutely loving the chaos. “Superman, huh? That’s a lot to live up to.”

“Stop encouraging him!” you hissed, swatting his arm.

Minjun, undeterred, turned to Heeseung. “You’ll marry her, right? You like her, don’t you?”

Heeseung crouched down again, grinning. “Of course I like her. But marriage is a big step, little guy.”

Minjun frowned, clearly unimpressed with that answer. “Well, hurry up. I want cake.”

That evening, after work, you and Heeseung walked Minjun home. He skipped ahead, humming to himself, clearly plotting your wedding and future children’s names in his head.

“I think your brother’s going to start planning the menu next,” Heeseung said, smirking.

You groaned. “He’s out of control. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I think it’s cute,” Heeseung said, bumping your shoulder with his. “Besides, he’s got good taste. You’d make a great wife.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. “Are you serious right now?”

Heeseung shrugged, his grin widening. “What? Can’t I be honest?”

You stared at him, flustered, before Minjun called from up ahead. “Hurry up, lovebirds! I don’t want to miss my cartoons!”

Laughing, Heeseung grabbed your hand and pulled you along.

Back at BrightSpark, life continued as it always had—only now, you and Heeseung were the unofficial couple everyone rooted for. You still bickered over small things, like who got to control the music during late-night work sessions or whose turn it was to grab coffee. But at the end of the day, it was clear to everyone that you were both undeniably happy.

Minjun, of course, took full credit for your relationship, often reminding anyone who would listen that he “made it happen.”

During one particularly busy afternoon, he visited the office yet again, walking straight up to Manager Kim and asking, “When are Noona and Heeseung Hyung getting married? They’re really slow.”

Manager Kim, barely holding back a laugh, turned to you and said, “You know, I think your brother might have a future in project management.”

Chaewon leaned over and whispered, “Or matchmaking.”

You groaned, but as you glanced over at Heeseung, who was busy playfully arguing with Minjun about superhero names, you couldn’t help but smile.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours—and that made it all the more special.

lmk if there are any mistakes and please like, reblog, and comment it is appreciated very much

235 notes · View notes

benispunk · 2 days ago

Text

If I Had The Chance

logan howlett x reader

One teeny-tiny silly question lead into something a tad bit bigger for Logan.

TW: nothing, this is pure fluff, just a draft I had for months and never actually posted. this is honestly so silly I was giggling while writing it. not proofed read.

Masterlist

The mansion was alive with music and chatter, students and teachers alike enjoying the end-of-school celebration. The air was filled with a mixture of excitement and relief, the pressure of the school year behind them. Logan and Y/N stood near the edge of the crowd, out of the spotlight but close enough to feel part of the celebration. Logan had a bottle hidden behind his back, and every now and then, he passed it to Y/N when no one was looking.

“Careful,” Y/N whispered with a grin as she took a sip. “We’re not supposed to have this here, remember?”

Logan’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Since when do we follow the rules?”

She laughed softly, feeling the warmth of the drink settle in her chest. They had always been close, sharing inside jokes and stolen moments like this, but lately, there had been something more—something unspoken hanging between them. The others had noticed too, often teasing them about their connection.

“So,” Y/N said suddenly, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Out of all of us here... if you had to, who would you marry?”

Logan turned to her, raising a brow at the unexpected question. “What kinda question is that?”

She shrugged, trying to keep her tone casual. “I don’t know. Just something stupid. Who would you pick?”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s a dumb question.”

“Oh, come on! It’s just for fun. Who would it be?” Y/N pressed, enjoying the way Logan was avoiding her question. She could see the slight smirk forming on his lips.

“Marry? No one,” he replied gruffly, looking away as if to change the subject. “We’re not talking about this.”

Y/N crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Would you have preferred the ‘who would you sleep with’ question?”

Logan glanced at her from the corner of his eye but remained silent. His silence only made Y/N more determined, a playful grin creeping onto her face.

“Well, if I had the chance to marry someone here,” Y/N said, feigning thoughtfulness before pointing her finger at him. “It would definitely be you.”

Logan stopped mid-swig and turned to her, eyes narrowing slightly. “If you had to?” he repeated, emphasizing her words with a teasing tone. “Or if you had the chance?”

Y/N’s face immediately turned bright red as she realized her mistake. “Uh... well... I mean—”

He leaned a little closer, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “’Cause there’s a difference, darlin’. One’s a duty, the other’s a choice.”

Y/N stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. “I... I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant... you know... hypothetically!”

Logan chuckled deeply, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “Sure you did.”

She rolled her eyes, biting her lip to stop herself from smiling. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just watched her for a moment with that infuriating smirk. Finally, after letting her squirm long enough, he leaned back against the wall and, almost casually, said, “Well, if I had the chance, I’d marry you too.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, caught completely off guard by his sudden admission. She opened her mouth to say something but found herself utterly speechless.

Logan gave her a wink, his tone light but sincere. “Guess that makes us even.”

And just like that, he handed her the bottle and turned back to watch the party, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart racing and a million thoughts running through her mind.

The party continued around them, but all Y/N could focus on was the warmth spreading through her chest—though this time, it wasn’t from the booze.

———

As the night grew late, the energy in the mansion started to wind down. Groups of students headed off to bed or continued chatting in smaller circles, while the music softened to a quieter background hum. Y/N found herself lingering near Logan, their playful exchange still buzzing in her mind.

They hadn’t said anything more about the marriage comment, and Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that Logan had left her hanging on purpose, just to mess with her. Typical.

She looked over at him, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, looking effortlessly cool. She could still feel the warmth from his earlier words, and it bugged her that she had no clever comeback ready.

“So,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence between them, “you’re just gonna drop that line and leave it like that?”

Logan glanced at her sideways, a teasing grin already forming. “What line?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on her. “You were the one to ask the question.”

“Right,” Y/N said, “and you sounded pretty serious for a silly question.”

Logan turned his head slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Was it a silly question?”

The way he said it made her pause, caught off guard. She hadn’t been expecting him to flip it on her like that.

“Well, yeah,” she said, though her voice wavered slightly. “I was joking around.”

“Were you?” he asked, his tone calm but laced with curiosity.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. Was he serious? The playful energy from earlier had shifted, and suddenly, she found herself standing closer to him than she had realized. She could see the faint lines around his eyes, the roughness of his skin, and the way he was watching her now—intensely.

“You know, you can’t just say things like that and then pretend it’s no big deal,” she said softly, her voice losing some of its teasing edge.

Logan’s smirk faded into something softer, more thoughtful. “Maybe it is a big deal,” he said quietly. His voice was low, the roughness in his tone giving away more than he intended.

Y/N blinked, her breath catching in her throat. Was this really happening? She wanted to say something, anything, but the words seemed to get stuck.

Logan took a small step toward her, his gaze never leaving hers. “You said you’d marry me too, remember? So don’t act like you’re off the hook.”

Y/N’s mouth opened, but all that came out was a nervous laugh. “Yeah, but I was just... I mean, it was hypothetical!”

“Hm,” Logan hummed, his eyes still locked on her. “Sounded pretty real to me.”

There was a tension in the air now, the kind that made her stomach flip. He was so close, and she could smell the faint scent of whiskey and cigar smoke on him, mixed with something uniquely Logan. It made her dizzy in the best way.

“I—” Y/N began, but the words were swallowed by the silence between them. For once, Logan wasn’t teasing. He was looking at her with that serious, guarded expression he wore when something actually mattered to him.

“Logan,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft background music. “Are you serious?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer, just looked at her as if weighing his options. Then, with a soft grunt, he leaned in closer, his forehead almost touching hers.

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” he murmured.

The world seemed to freeze for a second, the weight of his words settling between them like an invisible force. Y/N’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, and for the first time, she wasn’t sure if they were still teasing or if this was something more.

Before either of them could say anything else, someone called out from across the room, breaking the moment. They both pulled back, the spell broken, and Y/N could see a flicker of regret in Logan’s eyes before he turned away.

“Guess that’s our cue,” he muttered, giving her one last glance before heading toward the doorway. She watched him go, her chest tightening with unspoken words. But just as he reached the door, he turned back and met her gaze.

“’Night, Y/N.”

The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine. And then he was gone, leaving her standing there, her heart racing and her mind spinning.

———

The mansion was eerily quiet as the last of the partygoers trickled out, leaving only a few lights dimly flickering in the grand hallways. Y/N was still standing where Logan had left her, trying to shake off the flurry of emotions from their almost-moment.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, her thoughts still spinning around Logan’s words. Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. Was that real? Was she really about to believe him?

Unable to rest with so many unanswered questions, she slipped out onto the balcony for some fresh air. The night sky stretched out before her, cool and calming. For a moment, Y/N let herself breathe in the silence.

But it didn’t last long.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here.”

She jumped, startled, spinning around to find Logan leaning casually against the doorway, his arms crossed.

“You scared me,” she said, placing a hand over her chest.

He smirked. “Didn’t mean to.”

Logan stepped onto the balcony, the door clicking shut behind him as he joined her. For a moment, neither of them spoke. He leaned against the railing beside her, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

“Not really,” she admitted.

“Thinking about something?” he pressed, though his tone was casual.

Y/N hesitated, glancing sideways at him. She wanted to brush it off, but something in his expression made her stop.

“Maybe,” she said quietly.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Does it have to do with what I said earlier?”

She let out a small laugh, though it came out more nervous than amused. “What do you think?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead letting the silence stretch. Finally, he said, “You know I meant it, right?”

Her breath caught, and she turned to look at him fully. He was watching her now, his usual smirk replaced by something softer, more genuine.

“You’re really not going to let me play this off, are you?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

“Not when it’s the truth,” Logan said simply.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, and she looked away, focusing on the stars instead. She hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to be so… earnest.

“Logan…” she started, but her voice trailed off. She let out a shaky breath. “You know I was just joking.”

But even as she said it, the words felt hollow. She wasn’t joking, not really. She had thrown the question out there in a playful way, hoping to hide how much she had actually meant it.

Logan, however, wasn’t letting her off that easy.

“You were joking,” he echoed, though his tone made it clear he didn’t believe her. “You sure about that?”

Y/N met his eyes, searching for the right words, but all she could find was the truth.

“No,” she admitted softly. “I wasn’t joking.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Logan’s expression softened, though the intensity in his eyes remained. The night air felt charged with something between them—something fragile, but real.

He took a step closer, closing the distance between them. “Why didn’t you just say that from the start?”

Y/N laughed, though it was more nervous than anything. “Because it’s you,” she said, exasperated. “You’re not exactly easy to talk to when it comes to… feelings.”

Logan smirked at that, the hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “Can’t argue with that.”

They stood there in silence for another beat, both aware of how close they were now. Y/N could feel the warmth radiating off him, could see the way his chest rose and fell with slow, measured breaths.

“Look,” Logan said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “I’m not good at this…whatever…crap this is.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I meant what I said.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “About marrying me?”

Logan chuckled, his eyes flickering with amusement. “Yeah. Though I think we should date first, you know?”

Y/N huffed a laugh at that, looking up at him, not knowing what to say, yet.

Logan took another step toward her, his eyes softer now, less guarded than she’d ever seen them. “I ain’t exactly the marrying type,” he said gruffly, his hand coming up to gently brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “But if I were… yeah, it’d be you.”

Y/N could feel her cheeks heating up, her mind racing to catch up with everything he was saying. Before she could overthink it, she smiled—really smiled—and finally let herself relax.

“Well,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “lucky for you, if you had to marry someone and it was me…I’d say yes.”

Logan’s smirk grew wider, and for a brief moment, all the tension between them melted away. They weren’t just two people who’d been teasing each other all night. They were them—close, familiar, and something more.

Y/N felt a surge of confidence, emboldened by the way he was looking at her. Her heart hammered in her chest, but she couldn’t deny the pull between them anymore.

She took a step closer, standing just inches away now, her gaze never leaving his. “You know,” she said softly, “we could keep pretending, or…”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his signature smirk faltering ever so slightly as he realized where this was going.

“Or?” he prompted, his voice low.

“Or we could stop pretending,” Y/N finished, her voice steady despite the butterflies swirling in her stomach.

For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick with anticipation. Logan’s eyes searched hers, as if trying to figure out if she was serious.

Then, he let out a soft laugh, almost a huff, the corner of his mouth curling into an amused, knowing smile.

“Is that your way of saying I can kiss you?” he asked, his voice warm and teasing.

Y/N smiled back, her confidence growing. “Maybe it is.”

That was all the encouragement Logan needed. He closed the distance, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, but filled with all the unspoken things they hadn’t said. Y/N melted into him, her hands resting against his chest as the world seemed to fall away around them.

When they finally pulled back, Y/N was breathless, her heart racing as she met his gaze.

Logan looked down at her, his smirk returning but softer this time. “Well, I’d say that complicates things,” he murmured.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “I think it makes things a lot simpler, actually.”

He grinned, and for the first time in a long time, Logan looked… happy. Really, genuinely happy.

“Yeah,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “Maybe you’re right.”

They stood there on the balcony, wrapped up in the quiet night and each other, finally free of all the teasing and dancing around their feelings.

And maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something neither of them had seen coming—but had wanted all along.

#fanfiction #fandom #ao3 #logan howlett x reader #deadpool and wolverine #marvel cinematic universe #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett imagine #xmen fanfiction #xmen x reader #deadpool 3 #logan x reader #x men movies #xmen fanart #x men

192 notes · View notes

mimiiiiiiiiisstuff · 9 hours ago

Text

"I bet on losing dogs"

ok this is like my first time actually writing anything EVER, and I don't know how to work tumblr or make this aesthetic so bare with me pls!! I keep seeing yandere batfam x neglected reader and I have had so many ideas so I'm giving this a shot! The reader is referred to with female pronouns but you can imagine it different if you want :) Reader is 2 years older than Damian and is 15 at the start of the story. Damian is 13. Dick is around 10 years older than reader, making him 25 right now. Jason is 8 years older than reader, making him 23. Tim is 2 years older than reader making him 17. Cass is 4 years older than reader and is 19. Stephanie is 3 years older than reader and is 18. Barbra is around 8 years older, making her 23! Bruce is around 35-40ish??? All just kinda guesses to make the plot and dynamics more clear, lmk if you have any questions!!

This is the prolouge and it kinda sucks so pls be nice. Hearts and comments are appreciated. If it's bad ignore it, english isn't my first language.

You couldn't understand it. You aren't a bad kid, so why were you treated like one? Why did your father treat you like the bane of his existence? Why did your older brothers see you as nothing more than dirt at the bottom of their shoes, a ghost in the manor, a blemish on their picture perfect family of misfits. You tried so so hard to fit in, to be part of the family. You wasted 11 YEARS of your life trying to get noticed, doing activities and hobbies you hated in the hopes of striking conversation with your "siblings". Batman, Bruce Wayne, your "father", ignored you no matter what. He ignored you like it was his job, from the day you came to the manor on your fourth birthday, your mother's death day, to today, your 15th birthday. You saved his life, his and all those other ungrateful losers who you used to call family. Yesterday, you put you life on the line for them, got bitten by that damn snake for them, and they ignored you and told you to walk it off while coddling the girl who suddenly appeared. Never again would you help them, nor would you brush off their mistreatment, not after this betrayal. Not after they took in another girl, a girl your age, the girl who took credit for your heroic act, the girl who bullied you for years at Gotham Prep, the girl who made your life living hell, and called HER family. They choose Tiffany Maverick to be their supposed savior, they would never believe you had the bravery to help them. They chose her to be Tiffany Wayne and scorned you.

You did nothing wrong, from the day you came to the manor you were perfect. Straight A's, no attitude, no complaints and no demands. All you did was try, try, try, and they never noticed.

Richard "The Dick" Grayson, as you and your friends call him, was the world's best big brother to everyone, except you of course! He was your first brother, he was the kid that Bruce Wayne actually wanted to take under his wing. You were 5 and he was 15, he was busy being Robin and then Nightwing. Alfred assured you that Dick adored you, you were his baby sister after all, he was just busy! In later years you realized he was only busy when it came to you. He made time for Damian no matter what, always attended Cassandra's ballet recitals, chatted with Tim and ruffled his hair, and he even dealt with Jason's snarky attitude and biting remarks. Yet, somehow when it came to you, he never had time. Always brushing you off with a shoulder pat and a "Maybe next time sweetheart!" and rolling his eyes when he thought you weren't looking. He's been making time for Tiffany or Tiffybear, as he loves to call her while pinching her cheeks and calling her his favorite little sister, "Don't tell Cass though!" he'll whisper to her. You don't even think he can remember your name. Or that once upon a time you were his "baby bird."

It makes you sick watching her take credit for everything, she's only been in the manor for 6 months and they've all given her more love than they have to you in the past 11 years. She took credit for all your awards, she told everyone she was top of your class, made them "homemade" cakes and muffins. It was all you. She stole everything.

Jason Todd, the red hood, was so mean to you. You used to admire him, looked up to him, and he took all your kind words and gestures for granted and spit them back in your face. Once upon a time, he was your favorite brother, you wanted to be as confident and unshakeable as him, it didn't matter how mean he was now because he was you brother and you loved him. The bond you had before his death was something you couldn't let go of, he was the only one who loved you. When he first came to the manor he was 12 and you came a couple months later. An adorable 4 year old who followed her favorite brother like a duckling. You were 7 when he died. You were 12 when he came back to haunt Bruce and Dick and Tim. You chased after him and tried to resurrect the bond you had for 3 long years. You gave up when you saw them. You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw him and Tiffany sneaking out the manor on a school night, you almost threw up when you saw him strap her on his motorcycle and leave for hours. They came back with shit-eating grins and cupcakes for everyone from a 24hr bakery, everyone except you. The bakery you asked him to take you to months ago. Tiffany saw the tears in your eyes and your clenched fists and she laughed.

Timothy Drake-Wayne, you first saw him after Jason died. Tim, in your 10 year old mind, was trying to steal your dad. Bruce ignored you even more after Jason's death and shut everyone out. Your bond with Tim was non-existent no matter how hard you tried. After you realized he wasn't trying to replace Jason, and saw how he was helping your father heal in ways you couldn't, you tried to bond with him. You attempted to play his video games and ignored his complete disintrest in you and anything that had to do with you in hopes he might come to appreciate you. You brought him coffee after long patrols, asked him about his day, asked to meet his friends, you picked up all his hobbies like hacking, cooking, reading even martial arts and yet he ignored you. You tried to find him in hallways at school, only to be treated like a stranger when you found him. He was embarrassed that you were his sister. You were chubby and awkward and didn't have many friends, he didn't want his cool kid friends to know you were his sister. For 5 long years you chased after him, for 5 years you chased a ghost, and somehow Tiffany captured his attention using one of the gadget-thingys you made in hopes to impress him. She walks the hallways of Gotham Prep with him, a perfect sibling duo, he even had her lunch moved so she could sit with him and his friends. He wasn't embarrassed of her. You watched them get closer in 6 months than you have in 5 years. And it hurt.

But perhaps what hurt most is her newfound bond with Damian. Your baby brother. You tried the hardest with Damian, almost as hard as you tried with Bruce, and yet he chose her while all you got was a sword to your neck and sneers of disgust thrown your way. Damian moved in when you were 12. You were elated, if you couldn't have good older siblings, at least you could be one! That plan went to hell when you realized Damian saw you as less than him. No matter how hard you tried, returned your love with disgust. You tried to show him around school like you wished Tim did for you and he called you " A waste of space and Wayne DNA" and said that there was no way you were of "Wayne" blood and that your "whore of a mother" had to have deceived his father, in front of your two friends and half the school. You could've handled his cruel words if he didn't begin attempting to duel you to become your father's heir. About a year ago, when you tried to hug him he threw you down the stairs and you broke your ankle, you stopped trying with him after that. He was so possessive over Bruce and now that somehow transferred to Tiffany too. You'd feel bad for her if she wasn't eating his obsession with her up.

Barbra, Cassandra, and Stephanie were the "It girls." All practically sisters, they hung out almost everyday and had sleepovers every Friday. They giggled about boys, hook-ups, missions and bonded over everything. You wanted be one of them, you tried so hard to be cool, to be pretty, and they could only see your flaws. You curled your hair and did your nails in hope you would blend with them, you even attempted to be Batgirl at one point. You were quickly denied after Stephanie pointed out that you didn't have the right 'physique' for it. Barbra quickly agreed and said you weren't cut out for it, Cassandra simply looked you up and down. Thats why it hurt extra when they welcomed Tiffany with open arms. Suddenly, she could be Batgirl. She talked to them about boys and bonded with them over girl things. She stole your sisters.

You figured out Tiffany was a spy almost as soon as she came into the manor. Her apperance and ability to act like it was her who saved the Bats from the Joker and his new radioactive snake was not a coincidence, neither was her becoming a vigilante only two weeks after coming into the manor, and neither was you catching her walking out the Batcave with arms full of Batman's weapons and plans. You couldn't believe your luck and pulled out your phone to take a picture, too bad you left the flash on. Tiffany quickly noticed you and tried to explain that it was a misunderstanding when Bruce came into the hallway. You beamed at the sight of him and began to explain what you saw Tiffany doing, only Tiffany was faster. She was quick to blame you for everything, and Batman, the world's greatest detective believed her. She said that you bullied her at school and you were so jealous of her joining the family that you went to steal plans and took pictures to frame her. It was a shitty lie and somehow everyone believed it. You still remember the cold indifference on Bruce's face, the sadness on Alfred's, the look of pure delight on Damian's, the shock on Dick's, the interest on Tim's and the disappointment and disgust on Jason's. Something shifted in you that night. You didn't feel an overwhelming amount of love and longing when you looked at your family, you felt anger. Pure unadultered rage, rage at Bruce for never loving you, rage at Dick for being a liar, rage at Jason for throwing away your bond and cool indifference and disgust at the rest of them.

Maybe that's why your abilities finally formed. Maybe thats why the place the snake bit you that fateful night began to glow as you cried in your bathtub, after being scolded all night and getting body slammed by Damian for trying to "taint his dear sister's image". You had powers now, the agility of a snake, you could eject venom out of your fingertips, you could walk on walls, now you could prove them all wrong.

okayyyy yall this was the prolouge. Again this is my 1st attempt at writing so be nice. If enough people like this I'll put out part one. Hope yall enjoyed and lmk what you want to happen next in the comments!!!!!!!!!

#yandere batman #yandere batfam #yandere jason todd #yandere damian wayne #yandere tim drake #yandere x reader #yandere dc #platonic yandere batman #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfam x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batfamily x reader #jason todd x reader #platonic batman #yandere DC #yandere bruce wayne

203 notes · View notes

whadawhaaa · 1 day ago

Text

Its been two weeks since the last earth-shaking explosion rattled the bunker my family has been holed up in during the war. The past three years have felt like a blur, a monotonous chant that I can't even remember the words to.

Most days consisted of mom quietly humming as she swept away the dirt, her hair seemingly becoming more gray and frazzled each time the bunker rumbled and dirt fell from the ceiling, extending the chore like a never ending loop. My younger brother spent most of his time playing through my old DS games, not like we had internet the moment the first bomb dropped. The first few weeks he would ask "How much longer" hourly and he seemed restless, complaining about the processed food and canned veggies we had to sustain on. As the weeks turned to months, eventually years he too became silent.

I remember my dad, explaining to Mom the action plan, helping us pack our emergency bags and sending us on our way. He told us he would see us soon, but I think we all lost hope within the first few months, even though my mom still tells my brother how Dad will be so happy to see us when we finally reunite on the surface

"This is different," I remember Dad's words as he looked up to the sky before seeing us off, "I promise you will be safe, I promise I will see you soon." With one last bear hug, off we went. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere after hours of driving Mom pulled off to the side of the road. The Pacific-northwest wilderness all around us.

"Where are we?" I looked up from my phone, immediately noticing the tears running down her cheeks, "...Mom?"

"We have to walk the rest of the way," she said, obviously trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Your dad has left markers, he told me I would recognize them."

She took a deep breath, "Grab your brother and your bags, I'll get the first aid kits and the rest of the supplies."

We got out and I opened the back seat, "Come on, Cam," unbuckling him from the car seat. He was so much smaller, only five when it all ended. "Time to walk!"

We trekked through the cold for what seemed like hours in one direction and then my mom stopped.

"There," she pointed at a pine off to the right, etched into it were to letters. "N + C" I immediately recognized mine and Cameron's initials.

As we walked towards it I could see Mom's eyes darting around, scanning quickly and taking in every detail of the area, "Nic, I need you to help me find-" she cut off as in the distance she points at another tree with the same initials, "There!" she started running, "Look for them, Nic, we need to go!"

We followed tree after tree for miles, and eventually came to a clearing with a large boulder in the middle. My mother has been a stay at home mom for as long as I can remember, but she began digging around the pine needles and dirt at the base of the rock, as if years of training were kicking in.

Finally with an "Aha!" and some tugging at the base of it, a small tremor began, a hatch lifted about twenty feet away.

"Nic, I know we haven't explained much to you at this point, but I need you to be strong, your fifteen now and I don't know how long we are going to be here." Mom looked both terrified and stern at the same time, "We will be here until Dad comes and gets us, there is a very big war that is about to happen. Do you understand?"

I looked into the shadows beyond the hatch, "Are we mole people now?"

A small wave of humor wiped across her face "Nic, this is not the time for jokes, but yes"

Ever since then the bunker has been home. We listened and waited, stocks of canned and dehydrated goods sustaining us as the ground shook around us day after day for years. When the first day came without a bomb being dropped I don't think any of us realized, after three days Mom put Cameron down for bed and motioned for me to follow her out of the small bunk room we shared.

"Its been days now, do you think its safe?" My voice was raspy, I couldn't remember the last time I spoke aloud. Weeks? Months?

"I-I don't know," she turned to me with same terrified stern look she had two years before. I realized the pressure we were under, and not just from being fifty feet below the surface. "We need to wait until your father-"

"Mom, when are you going to stop acting as if he survived? We need to figure this out." Did anyone else survive? Who won the war? How long do we wait.

"Nic, it is very important that we wait, your dad is a very resourceful man and if he said he will come to us then I believe him" She walked towards the ladder in the corner of the room and looked up from where we climbed down.

"How long?" I asked bluntly, "How long do we sit here hiding before we accept he didn't survive? Something up there has been shaking us out in the middle of nowhere for years" I start to realize the time we've spent in the dark, disconnected, "There are so many things that could be happening and we cannot guarantee anything!"

"Two weeks." she said, without looking away from the only way up. "I will wait two weeks, and if no more tremors we can go to the surface. I will go to the surface and check if its safe."

Here I am, two weeks later trying to sleep as anxiety rips through me and what is going to happen tomorrow when we wake up. Will it be safe? Is there anyone left? Slowly as I drift to sleep, these unanswered questions exhausting me I feel a small tug. No, not a tug, a lift, as if a small wave pulled me above water briefly. My eyes snap open and I look at the battery clock next to my bunk, its time.

I walk out and I see my mom standing in the main room, dressed as if she had somewhere to go for the first time in months, and she did.

"I'm going up," she said, "Watch Cameron and I'll be right back down." She picked up a small device off the kitchen table, turning it on made it click and whistle, then silence. "I need to see if we are in danger from radiation."

She grabs the metal ladder, her foot on the first rung, "If its safe, we need to hope the car is where we left it otherwise we will be walking for a while" she began to climb up into the darkness.

After about ten minutes when I heard the hatch opening echo down the tunnel and again I felt the tug, stronger this time. It felt as if I was standing in the ocean and a wave tried to lift me off of my feet, I felt a tingling sensation course though me and release as if shooting out of my fingertips. When I heard the hatch close the sensation almost immediately cut off, "Shit." I said aloud, thinking to myself it must be radiation. I grew more and more anxious as I heard Mom's steps get closer and closer to the bottom until she appeared from the dark.

"Its-" She paused, turning around her face looking like a mix of confused and stressed, "Its clear, no traces at all."

Then what was that feeling? I must've looked a certain way while thinking and Mom read me like a book.

"I don't know what the was when I opened the hatch, Nic, but you're right. We cannot sit and wait until our food supply is gone, we need to find help." She grabs our bags and sets them on the table, quickly gathering supplies. "Go get Cameron ready."

We gather everything and I get Cameron dressed, he asks a hundred questions I don't have the answer to and I just keep telling him we need to go back to the car. Finally, we get go up. Mom first, then Cameron, then me. Slowly making our way through the dark until Mom stops below the hatch. Our dimly lit abode below us looks like a small speck five stories below us.

"My arms hurt!" Cameron whines.

"Give me just a sec to-hah! Found it!" The hatch clicks and Mom pushes it open letting in a burst of light and fresh air. My body feels light again, a sudden rush pushes me and I feel like I'm going to shoot straight up like a cork in a bottle.

We crawl out and everything looks surprisingly familiar. The air feels crisp with a slight tinge of fall and wet pine needles to give me an idea of the time of year. The sensation continues to pull me upwards, I feel pressure building as if I'm a balloon being pushed under water. The tingling sensation feels as if it is concentrated on the tips of my fingers and I look down and-

"Mom, what's going on!?" I hold up my hand and as I do sparks begin to shoot from it, no pain only pressure.

"I-I don't know Nic, are you ok? Does it hurt?" She looks horrified, "Shake it off!"

I start shaking my hand, I feel tears welling up even though I don't feel hurt, just scared. The sparks fade. I look down at my hand and see light blue lines tracing along my veins and fading up my arm. I reach out and the outlines pulse as if alive. My hand is no longer shooting sparks and I move my fingers to make sure everything is ok. They meet friction when I move them, something that feels almost like my old guitar strings pushing against my fingers, a clump of chords in my hand when I ball it into a fist. I reach out slowly and run my index finger down as if to strum the invisible instrument, quickly with each passing chord, a faint blue line lights up as I move downward, one by one lighting up and fading fast behind.

I take a step forward, and besides the pressure inside my chest, there is nothing stopping me moving. I take a swing with my hand and like a harp, the faint chords appear vertically behind the motion, fading as quickly as they appeared.

A voice rings through my mind, a voice like music.

"You have a natural talent, you understand the magic coursing through you as a beautiful song waiting to be played"

"Who are you?!" I say aloud.

"Nic, who are you talking to?" Mom looks so scared, Cam looks up at me, his eyes bright with curiosity.

"Its been a long time since I have been awake in this world, so many voices, too many for me to handle. At last I can hear the music through all of the noise!"

"If you don't tell me who you are, I-I-" I stammer out, not knowing what I would do if the voice doesn't give me an answer.

"Calm down, child. I am not here to hurt you, in fact I am your savior, your muse. Soon you will understand, soon you will play such beautiful songs for me, you will compose symphonies for my orchestra. For I, child, am Mystra."

The magic weave is real, every human pulls from it. But the vast Ocean that is the weave is not infinite and as the human population rises the power one can pull from the weave becomes almost non existent. Earth just faced a apocalyptic event that wiped out 80% of humanity and you feel the weave

#writing #creative writing #me

3K notes · View notes

flwrkid14 · 2 days ago

Note

So is I alright if I ask this?

I've seen the post where everyone wants to be Tim's favorite, might I ask if you could combine it with the 'Tim will never be anyone's favorite' and the brain dead post spin off? I think it'd be super angst angsty if the bats realize tehy unitentionally screwed up with Tim.

Oh, this is such a good ask! and now I’m going to be feral about it, thank you. Combining all of those ideas? Buckle up because this is going to get angsty.

—

Tim Drake will never be anyone’s favorite.

He’s always known it, accepted it as fact, because it’s not just about how he’s never felt like anyone’s favorite—it’s about how he’s been conditioned to believe that no one could favor him. He spent so much of his life trying to make himself useful to the people around him, because if he couldn’t be loved, he could at least be needed. If they needed him, they’d have to keep him around, right?

So that’s what Tim became. The utility knife of the Batfamily. The glue, the fixer, the one who knew how to put everything back together even if no one ever thought to ask how he was holding up.

And if that meant sacrificing pieces of himself, so what? He was never anyone’s favorite. He had no illusion that anyone would fight for him, that he’d be prioritized. The mission came first. Gotham came first. Family was a distant second, if it ranked at all.

Then there’s Danny.

Danny doesn’t come in with the expectations or baggage the rest of the Bats have. Danny doesn’t know Tim as a placeholder Robin or a second chance or a stolen birthright. He knows Tim as Tim—sharp, exhausted, himself. And Danny thinks that’s amazing.

He says it, too, without hesitation. “You’re my favorite,” he says like it’s a fact. Like Tim has always been the first name on someone’s list.

And it’s such a foreign concept to Tim that his first reaction is suspicion. He doesn’t trust it—can’t trust it—because when has anyone ever favored him? Even when Danny shows time and again that he’s not going anywhere, that his affection for Tim is unconditional, Tim’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Danny to grow tired of him, to leave, to regret his words.

But Danny doesn’t. He stays.

And that’s where it all starts to unravel for the rest of the family.

They see it—the way Danny looks at Tim like he’s the most important person in the room. The way Tim slowly starts to relax around him, shedding the defensive, brittle edges he’s always carried with them. The way Danny makes it obvious—painfully obvious—that Tim is his favorite person.

It's then that it hits them.

None of them have ever made Tim feel that way.

They start noticing the cracks they’ve left in him, the ones they never saw because they were too busy leaning on Tim to hold them together. They think back to all the times Tim had been the one to put in the effort to maintain their relationships, the way he always came through for them when they needed him, but how little they ever did for him in return.

They see the way he hesitates when Danny shows him affection—how it catches Tim off guard every time, like he’s still waiting for it to be a trap. And the Bats realize they’ve conditioned Tim to expect exactly that.

It guts them.

Cass had always known, in the quiet way she read people, that Tim didn’t feel like he belonged. She saw it in the way he held himself—guarded, distant, bracing for rejection. She’d tried, in her small, subtle ways, to show him he mattered, but watching Danny with him now, she realized she hadn’t done enough, that there was so much more she could have done for him not to feel that way. She hadn’t known how deep the hurt ran, and the guilt settled heavy in her chest.

Danny... Danny treated him differently.

Dick, who always tried to be a good brother but never saw the way Tim’s shoulders tensed under the weight of being “good enough.” Jason, who hated him for wearing the Robin colors but never noticed how much Tim blamed himself for taking them in the first place. Bruce, who thought giving Tim responsibility was enough to show he cared, but never thought to give him unconditional support. Damian, who fought Tim at every turn but never realized how much Tim already hated himself for existing in a role Damian felt should have been his.

Even Steph, and Duke—all of them thought Tim was fine because Tim made himself fine. Because Tim was the one who fixed things, and none of them stopped to ask what he needed.

It becomes almost unbearable for them to watch Danny care for Tim, because Danny makes it look so easy. He loves Tim so openly, so obviously, that it highlights every way the family failed to do the same.

And Tim? Tim doesn’t even seem to know he deserves it.

It’s the wake-up call they all desperately needed but never wanted. They don’t know how to fix it. But watching Danny and Tim together, seeing the way Tim is finally beginning to believe he’s worthy of being loved, they know one thing for certain:

They can’t undo the past.

But maybe, if they try hard enough, they can make sure Tim never feels that way again.

#thank you for the ask!#tim drake #batfam #brain dead #dead tired #danny fenton #dc x dp

231 notes · View notes

eufezco · 2 days ago

Text

TOLERATE IT 𓂃 𓈒 ❀

oldman!logan x fem!reader

synopsis – the struggles with the growing distance between you and logan and holding on to a man who has already let go.

a/n – kinda inspired by tolerate it by taylor swift.

angst.

logan was late again, though you’d stopped watching the clock weeks ago. time became meaningless when each hour felt like a reminder of how far apart the two of you had grown. he was late and you thought you preferred it this way, because when he was home, it was worse.

when he was home, he didn’t look at you, like you weren’t even there. he didn’t talk to you, offering only brief replies or silence. the man who once made you feel seen, known, and loved was now a shadow. at least when he was gone, you didn’t have to feel the sting of being invisible in your own home.

the sound of the front door opening startled you from your thoughts.

you'd been cooking dinner for him, if you stayed busy, maybe you could ignore the ache in your chest, the endless questions you no longer dared to ask. his heavy steps echoed down the hall, the unmistakable smell of alcohol followed him into the room like an unwelcome guest.

you turned toward the hall, his eyes, bloodshot, avoided yours.

—hey, —you said softly, your voice tentative.

he didn’t answer, just grunted as he moved past you and toward the chair where he always dropped his jacket.

—i've cooked you dinner, —you tried again, forcing a smile.

—not hungry.

the smile disapeared , your lips trembling slightly as you looked at him. —logan, you’ve barely eaten anything lately, —you said, your voice quieter.

—i said i’m not hungry, —he repeated, the irritation in his voice unmistakable. he didn’t even turn to face you, his focus already on loosening his tie.

you stood there for a moment, clutching the edge of the plate, so hard that you thought it would break under your fingers. the meal you’d poured so much effort into, the carefully laid table—it all felt pointless, like shouting into a void. you opened your mouth to respond, to say anything but your eyes caught on the smudge of red on the collar of his shirt. the words died on your lips, and your stomach twisted as realization hit. lipstick.

—logan? —you said, barely above a whisper.

he followed your line of sight, his expression hardening when he saw what had caught your attention. —don’t start, —he said, his voice low and warning.

—don’t start? —you repeated in disbelief. —logan, there’s lipstick on your collar. you—

—i don’t want to do this right now, —he interrupted, his voice rising slightly, frustration etched into every word.

—but... —you tried again. then you noticed how his hair was more disheveled than usual, how some buttons on his shirt were undone. ever since things started to go wrong with logan, you always had a sneaking suspicion that he was seeing other women. most of the times you didn't say anything, not because you didn’t care, but because the thought of confronting him felt more terrifying than the suspicion itself. you had convinced yourself that if this was the price you had to pay to keep him by your side, you would pay it.

but when you confronted him, he’d deny it—nothing was going on. you wanted to believe him, you tried to believe him. but you knew that something was off. there were things you couldn’t ignore and that he didn't care enough to hide, like the way he would smell different when he came home some nights—like someone else’s perfume clung to his shirt.

—i came from work fucking tired and you are trying to start a fight! these things—these things you do are what makes it so goddamn exhausting to be near you.

you didn’t just drop the plate on the floor, you smashed it. the plate carefully prepared, a gesture of love but now, just like everything else, it was broken beyond repair. without thinking, you stepped forward, closing the space between you and him, your breath coming hard and fast, your fist tight with anger.

his expression was unreadable at first, a flicker of annoyance clouding his features, but beneath it, there was something else—something like intrigue, as if he was daring you to keep going, to show him just how much he had hurt you. your pressed your finger against his chest, steady and defying.

—you don’t deserve a fucking thing I gave you, —you spat, your voice laced with fury that you had been keeping to yourself for far too long. his lips parted as if to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. —what a shame that this mutation of yours is taking so long to kill you and that i have to be the one to suffer all the shit you are rotting in.

silence settled between you after those words. for a few seconds, you both just stood there, locked in each other’s gaze. his eyes were hard, unreadable, and you couldn't see anything shifting. no sign of regret, no sign of guilt.

—are you done? —he said finally, his tone flat, almost bored, as if your pain was just another inconvenience in his already exhausting day.

you made your way to the bedroom. as you passed him, you bumped your shoulder against his and logan closed his eyes and shook his head. you didn't let the tears fall from your eyes just yet. you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.

you collapsed in your shared bed. the sheets smelled faintly of him, even though it had been weeks since the last time he slept there, a cruel reminder of the distance between you. the sobs broke free, quiet and muffled at first, but then louder.

and he heard you from the living room.

you knew he did and you waited, even as your tears soaked the pillow, hoping—praying—that you’d hear the sound of his footsteps approaching. that he’d walk through the door, sit on the edge of the bed, and pull you into his arms like he used to. that he’d say something—anything—to let you know he still cared, still saw you.

but he didn't come.

instead, you heard the clink of his whiskey glass, the quiet sound of him trying to drown out the reality with alcohol. his attempts to ignore the sound of your sobs failed. but still, logan didn’t move.

the tears eventually took over and you fell asleep.

logan picked up the shattered pieces of the plate from the floor and then went into your room. you felt his arm slide across your back, pulling you closer to him, the warmth of his skin too familiar, too intimate, but it felt wrong now, like a cruel mockery of what it used to be. you whined and tried to push his arm away, your body tensed, trying not to surrender to the moment, and shook, trying to make it clear that you didn’t want him to touch you.

—don’t, —you muttered, still half asleep. —don’t touch me.

yet he could feel how it instinctively molded to his. your body remembered him, the way you used to fit together.

—quit it, —logan said, his voice low and rough. his arm tightened around you, firmly, to keep you from pulling away. then, just as quickly, his hold softened, arms relaxing as they hugged you.

he stayed there all night, his arm around you, holding you close in a way that felt almost natural. for the first time in what felt like forever, his breathing steadied, the weight of exhaustion pulling him into a deep sleep. you relaxed into his embrace but when you woke up the next morning, the bed felt cold. you turned, reaching out instinctively and the space where he had been was empty.

he was gone. but it wasn't surprising, not really. you should've known that he wouldn’t stay. he had always been a man who left—left conversations unfinished, left wounds unhealed, left you in pieces. what was truly surprising, more than his absence now, was the fact that he had been ever there at all.

196 notes · View notes

k-germsworld · 19 hours ago

Text

Meet and Greet

Eunha x M! Reader feat Sinb, Umji

4.3k words

Viviz's comeback is imminent, so Na.V has started pre-ordering a lot of albums just to be able to attend the fan meeting. Of course, I am no exception. I also try my best to buy their albums just to be able to attend the fan meeting. A week before Viviz's comeback, I received a package. In the package was the album I pre-ordered and a letter. There was a ticket for a fan meeting in the envelope, and it was also noted that no one else could know except me. The ticket said "Viviz Pre-Comeback Meet and Greet". It also had the venue and date and number "05" written on it. I held onto the ticket with some doubt until the day of the event.

The Day

I went according to the location written on the ticket. Although the venue was a little remote, I went anyway. When I arrived at the venue, I found that I was not the only one who got the ticket. But there didn't seem to be many people at the venue, only about 10 to 15 people. We waited patiently on site until the appointed time. At the appointed time, the curtain of the stage slowly opened. Behind the slowly opening curtain, there were three large cubicles and a person who walked out and stood in the middle of the stage.

“Welcome to Viviz Pre-Comeback Meet and Greet, Na.V. We have invited only a small number of people, hoping that you who are present can fully enjoy your time alone with Viviz. Without further ado, let me introduce today's procedures to you." In order to let us enjoy the show as quickly as possible, the host quickly got to the point and we listened to him carefully.

According to the host, we don't know who is in which cubicles. We can only rely on our own feelings to find the members we like. He also explained to us that this fan meeting is very different from other ones. So don't be surprised by what happens when you enter the cubicles and enjoy it. After you are done in the cubicles, then put your ticket in the raffle box, and the winner will get a very special benefit. Since there are 15 of us, to be fair, one cubicle can only queue for 5 people. First come, first served. “Na.V are you ready?” After listening to everything, the host asked us. “Yes!!” We answered loudly together.

“3…..”

“2…..”

“1…..”

“Let’s Start!”

After the host finished counting down, we all chose the cubicles according to our feelings. Everyone wanted to choose their favourite member. Of course, I wanted to, but I liked all three of them so I had a hard time making the choice. I chose the cubicle on the left, and I happened to be the last person in the cubicle on the left. There is a manager standing next to each cubicle, so that he can instruct fans to enter, and then after the fan inside is done, he will instruct another fan to enter. Since there was no time limit and I was not sure how long I would have to wait, I looked around. I noticed that some of the fans who went in came out very quickly, but some took a long time to come out. But without exception, everyone had a very happy expression on their faces when they came out. My queue wasn't very slow, but when other cubicles have already entered the second fans or the third fans and my team is still with the first fans.

No matter how long I wait, it's worth it, as long as it's for Viviz. So I just have to wait more patiently. After about 30 minutes, it was finally my turn. The manager signalled that I could enter the cubicle. I entered the cubicle and found a bed inside. Eunha was sitting on the bed. I was very surprised by Eunha's look today. She was wearing a blue camisole and a black skirt. The dress perfectly brought out her cleavage, while the short skirt brought out her snow-white thighs. I was completely attracted by her beauty and didn't react until she started talking to me. "Hey, don't be nervous. You can sit next to me now. And show me your ticket." I showed her my ticket. She looked at it and smirked. When I got the ticket, I noticed the "body part" section, and mine said "hands". But I still don't understand what this section can do in this meet and greet. "The benefit you drew is a hand. Do you know what it is used for?" I shook my head to indicate I don't know. "Just like this." After she finished speaking, she used her hand to stroke my cock through my pants. "Wait a minute, Eunha. What are you doing?" I was frightened by her sudden action. "This is the main reason for this fan meeting. Before the comeback, we all wanted to get the love of Na.V, so we proposed this fan meeting to the company. You don't need to feel guilty, you just need to enjoy it. The more cum you ejaculate, the greater support you give us." As she spoke, she took off my pants. "Your cock is neither too big nor too small. Although some of the guys' cocks are bigger than yours, I still like your size. I wanted to stop her, but I couldn't.

Eunha wrapped her hand around my cock and stroked it slowly up and down. “Oh fuck…. Eunha, your hands are so soft.” I said to her, "So, do you like it?" She smiled and asked me. I could only nod because it felt so good to have her hand stroking my cock. After she smiled with satisfaction, she spit some saliva on my cock. My cock was throbbing as her warm saliva dripped onto it. She spread the saliva on my cock evenly on my cock as lubrication. She was stroking my cock while looking at me with lustful eyes. Her eyes seemed to tell me to cum quickly because she wanted my semen. Her look made me want to kiss her lips unconsciously, but she stopped me. "You can't do that. Now I can only help you cum with my hands. But if you are drawn in the lucky draw later, it will be a different story." Although I really wanted to kiss Eunha right now, I didn't want to be kicked out by the manager, so I had to suppress myself and enjoy the handjob she gave me first. Her hands never stopped, and if she felt her saliva was about to dry, she would continue to spit some saliva on my cock. Under the dual stimulation of her warm saliva and her hands, I cum a lot. Her hands were all covered with my cum. She brought her hands to her nose and smelled my cum. "I hope your cum won't be only on my hands later, but in my mouth or in my wet pussy." Her dirty talk made me hard again, but my round was over so I had to put my pants back on. Just as I was about to leave the cubicle, Eunha stopped me. ""I hope the goddess of luck will favor you in the upcoming lucky draw." She said to me. Although the chances were slim, her words gave me a little hope. "I hope that too." I said this to her and left the cubicle. Afterwards, I gave my ticket to the staff present. He put my ticket into the lottery box. He also gave the same number as on the ticket.

When all the fans came out of the cubicle and sat down in their seats, Viviz also came out of the cubicle and greeted Na.V. “Annyeonghaseyo, Viviz imnida.” Although it was just a simple greeting, it made the fans present cheer. Viviz also smiled happily. Soon, the host appeared. “Na.V, did you guys enjoy what happened just now?“ The host asked. “Yes!!!” Na.V replied in unison. "Do you guys want to enjoy it more? There was no rejection, and all fans responded loudly that they needed more. The host took out the lottery box. "While I know everyone wants more, this will only be available to three fans and the three lucky fans will be drawn from this lottery box." The whole audience booed instantly. "I know everyone will be unhappy with this decision, but the three of us can't satisfy so many fans at once, so we have to do this." Hearing the boos, Umji immediately took the microphone to comfort the fans. "If you are not selected in the lucky draw later, don't be sad. We will take selfies with you one-on-one. It doesn't matter what poses you make during the selfie." Sinb took the mic and continued. When the fans heard this, they immediately stopped booing. "Even if you are not picked, don't be discouraged. After all, our music promotion activities will start next. So we will definitely meet a lot in the future. There may be more exciting benefits waiting for you then." Eunha continued to comfort. After hearing these words, the fans stopped making noise. Eunha handed the mic back to the host. "Since everyone agrees, let's draw the lottery without further delay. Maybe you will be the lucky winner." The host heated up the atmosphere. The person who draws the lottery is none other than Viviz. They need to serve the holder of the number they draw. Umji drew the first number and handed it to the host. "The first number is 08." The host announced. The fan holding the number 08 jumped up and cheered excitedly. Next, Sinb drew the number 06. Just before Eunha drew the lottery ticket, I was praying that I would be the lucky one in the end. “The last lucky winner is……” I was very nervous until the host made the announcement. “Is 05” After hearing the host's announcement, I looked at the number in my hand in disbelief, and then shouted it out loudly. “Oh yeah !!!!!” I looked at Eunha, and she looked at me. I had already started imagining what was going to happen next.

Although many fans who were not selected were disappointed, they regained some excitement when they thought about what they had just said about taking one-on-one selfies and doing any actions. The three of us who were selected were first taken backstage by the staff because we couldn’t take selfies with them for the time being. The remaining fans were invited to the stage by the staff and asked to line up. The staff explained to them that they could do anything bold to Viviz during the selfie. So the fans started to think about what to do to them. During the selfie, some fans grabbed Eunha's big tits, some asked Sinb to step on his dick, some kissed Umji directly, and some even asked them to grab his dick with their hands and take a selfie. Some even asked to take a selfie with their thighs holding the dick. Every fan took a photo with each member. This session lasted about 30 minutes. After 30 minutes, the fans who had taken the selfie photos left the venue one after another, and the three of us were informed by the staff that we could go to the front stage. We arrived at the front desk and saw Viviz had returned to the cubicle. But this time we were informed which member was in which cubicle, so we just had to go into the cubicle of the member who had just drawn our number.

The three of us stood in front of the cubicles and each entered the cubicle we were supposed to enter. This time I went into the middle cubicle. Eunha was very excited to see me go into her cubicle. When I saw Eunha again, all I could think of was her masturbating me and whispering dirty words in my ear. These images gave me an erection. Eunha saw the bulge in my pants and smirked. "Come and sit here." She patted the bed and motioned for me to sit next to her. I followed her instructions and sat next to her. I sat next to her and I was so nervous that my body was almost stiff and I didn't dare to move. "Don't be nervous, I'll let you freely use me from now until you want to end." She seemed to see that I was very nervous, so she leaned on my shoulder and said in my ear again. I was still shocked by her words, even though I had just ejaculated in her hand. I turned my head to look at her. She kissed me without saying a word. She stopped kissing and asked me. "This is the kiss you wanted just now. How is it? Do you like it? She stopped kissing and asked me. ”Yes, I love it so much!” After hearing this, she continued to kiss me with a happy face. While she was kissing me, her hand continued to touch my cock. "Your cock is already so hard from just kissing." She broke the kiss and teased me. "Where do you want to put your rock hard cock in me?" she asked me as she continued to tease my cock. Her hands are so skillful in playing cock, I can't even form a word when her hand keeps playing with cock. She kept looking at me and waiting for my answer. When she saw that I didn't answer, she kept teasing my cock with her thighs. "So where do you want your cock in me right now? Answer me quickly or else Sinb and Umji will already be enjoying the cum and I'll still be here waiting for your answer." Hearing Eunha's urgent request, I forced myself to say my first answer. "Mouth!!" She seems confused and asks me why. "Your mouth is so tempting. I want to know the feeling of your soft mouth wrapped around my cock and how warm your mouth is." When she heard my answer, she smirked.

She kissed me again. But this time it was different, she stopped quickly and started kissing my neck. Then she took off my shirt and started sucking my nipples. My body trembled because of her sudden kiss on my nipples. She held one nipple in her mouth and teased the other nipple with her fingers. My nipples were completely hard because of her teasing. Then, she stuck out her tongue and licked my belly button. My body was now covered with her saliva. But she seemed not satisfied yet, and she was quickly unbuttoning my pants. My cock was fully exposed to Eunha again. Although it was not big, it was the size she liked. "You know what? I've been thinking about the perfect cock for me. We've been choosing the right cock for ourselves, and you're the perfect cock for me. The lottery and everything is fake, we rigged it a little so we could choose the person we wanted." Eunha looked at my cock and told the truth.I'm not interested in the truth. But I'm glad that I became her ideal person, so I'm going to enjoy Eunha even more. After saying all that, she took my cock into her mouth. "Oh damn..... Eunha. Your mouth is so fucking warm and soft." I let out a moan. She ignored me and continued to suck my cock, she took my entire length into her mouth, I could even feel the vibrations in her throat on my glans. She slowly pulled my cock out. My cock was completely covered with her saliva. I also had some pre-cum leaking out because of her skillful blowjob. After she spit my cock out,She stuck her tongue out to lick my pre-cum and then licked my dick all over and then took my cock into her mouth again. These skilled blowjob techniques made me feel like I was in heaven. Just when I was enjoying the blowjob she was giving me, suddenly the cubicle was raised.

After the cubicle was raised, the six of us were completely exposed on the stage. But luckily no one else was watching from the audience. I looked around while I was still enjoying Eunha's blowjob. I just realized that Sinb and Umji were already naked and having sex with their fans. Sinb is riding a fan's cock in cowgirl style, the sound of their bodies colliding and the fan's moans make the whole scene very erotic. On the other hand, Umji was being fucked by fans in the doggy style. She begged the fans to spanked her hard and fuck her harder. Sinb and Umji's moans filled the venue, turning me on more and more. These scenes made me become bolder when I saw other fans already putting their dicks in their holes. At this point, I stood up and grabbed Eunha's head and started face-fucking her. She didn't resist at all, she just simply enjoyed me fucking her face roughly. Even though she was drooling from my face fucking, she didn't seem to be in any pain at all. Instead, she was looking forward to the moment when my semen would spurt out. Actually, when Eunha was giving me a blowjob, I was already craving for cum. So I fucked her face hard and cummed into her mouth in just a few strokes. She didn't spit out my cock immediately, but instead waited for me to shoot all my semen into her throat. “Fuck, you had cum alot in my mouth. It’s so tasty." She swallowed all my semen as she spoke. "How about we have a second round? After the first time, you should know where you need to put your hard cock in me this time." She smirked and hinting me to fuck her pussy this time. Her few simple words gave me another erection. I got an instant erection because of other reasons. Because Sinb and Umji were asking fans to cum inside them. ”Just cum inside me, I want you to creampie me so much.” As soon as they finished speaking, two fans instantly creampied them. Their pussies were dripping with fans' cum, and like Eunha, they were still not satisfied and asked for a second round. Eunha's teasing and the scenes of Sinb and Umji having sex made me so excited that I got an erection again instantly.

I quickly pushed Eunha down on the bed. Then, I spread her thighs and found that her pussy was already very wet. I didn't put my cock into her wet pussy right away, but touched her pussy first. Just touching the outside of her pussy, her wet pussy quickly soaked my fingers. I slowly put my hand into her pussy. “Stop teasing me already. I can’t wait to feel your dick inside me already.” Eunha was already very sensitive, just putting it in made her moan loudly. I ignored her and inserted my second finger into her cunt. She was soon squirting as my fingers thrust in and out. My fingers and the bed she was lying on were filled with her juices. I took my fingers out and sent her juices into my mouth. The taste of her juices made me very excited. Her juice was like an aphrodisiac, filling my mind with horniness. I aimed my cock at her pussy and quickly thrust it in. The moment it went in, Eunha seemed to feel an unprecedented pleasure. "Fuck, your cock fills me up completely. Keep going, don't stop. Treat me like your sex doll. Fuck me hard." I grabbed her waist and started to thrust in and out. Her tits swaying from the thrusting and her lewd expression of enjoyment, all of these things stimulated me very much and made me fuck her harder. "Eunha, your pussy makes me feel so good. It's so great to have sex with you today." She put her hands on my shoulders and said to me with lustful eyes: "Since you like fucking me so much, don't stop until you cum all your sperm into me." Her words encouraged me and I increased my speed. As I went faster and faster, I wanted to cum more and more. She kept moaning because of my thrusts. Her moans were irresistible to me. Soon, I came. I obeyed her and shot all my second load into her pussy. While my cock was still shooting warm cum in her pussy, Eunha put her arms around my neck and pulled me close to her and we kissed. She let me go when she felt my second load was finished. I pulled my cock out and saw that even my second load was very heavy. Her pussy was immediately flooded with cum.

I thought it was all over after I cum twice. "I want more. I haven't enjoyed it enough. I want your semen. I am yours today." But Eunha still wanted a third round. After hearing this, I agreed to her request without hesitation. Then I turned her around. Her nice ass was now facing me. Her ass was round and meaty and it made me even harder. Before I put it in her hole, I tried putting my hard cock between her ass and started rubbing it. "Fuck, your ass feels so good too." Her ass feels totally different from her pussy. "Stop teasing my ass already, faster put it in my pussy.” She couldn't bear the teasing any more and just wanted me to put it in quickly. I listened to her and put my cock into her pussy. I started fucking Eunha in doggy style. I grabbed her ass and pushed it back and forth to make it easier for me to fuck her. As I was fucking Eunha, I kept my eyes peeled to see what was going on. I saw Umji doing a 69 with a fan, and another fan was about to put his dick in Sinb's ass, and although she kept trying to stop him, it was finally put in her ass. When it was inserted into her ass, she moaned loudly. After my observation, I turned my attention back to Eunha. While pumping her, my hands moved to her tits and started fondling them. Her tits are really a huge temptation for me, and I can't help but want to touch them every time. “Yes，keep touching them. I love the way you touch them. You make me even horny right now." She seemed to really enjoy having her breasts touched, as if that was her sensitive area. “Eunha, you are so great! I might cum again soon.” She is a huge temptation to me. Each time of penetration does not last long but can make me cum a very large amount of semen. “Just cum everywhere you like as long as it's my body part.” Soon, I pulled out my cock and shot my semen on her round ass. The white semen covered her ass, making her ass look very sexy.

Just as I finished the third shot, the other two finished at the same time. The fan who was doing 69 with Umji ejaculated in her mouth, and all her juices were ejaculated into his mouth. And Sinb's ass had obvious palm prints, which obviously showed that she was spanked during the process of thrusting, and the fan's semen was cum into her ass. All three of us thoroughly enjoyed it. "We ended at the same time, how about we switch partners?" Someone proposed this to us. We all nodded in agreement without objection. When we were about to take action, the manager beside us stopped us. "You can't switch partners at will, you can only focus on the partner you choose." We had no choice but to obey. The three of them seemed to have reached a consensus, they stood up and pushed the three of us down on the bed. Viviz rides on our cocks at the same time in perfect synchronicity. Eunha rode my cock and started moving her hips to pump herself. She looked at me with very lustful eyes and her hands were on my body, while my hands were holding her waist. "Did you like my performance today?" Eunha asked me. Her continuous movements made her sweat break out. Her body was full of sweat beads. Some of the sweat even dripped onto my body, but I didn't care and I really liked it. "Yes, I fucking love your performance today, Eunha." She smiled at me with satisfaction and kissed me. As she was kissing me she forgot to keep moving her hips so I put my hands on her ass and started moving my hips to pump into her. She felt the force of my thrusts so she broke the kiss and moaned loudly. “Cum inside me this time.” “As you wish.” After that, I shot my semen into her again. She felt the warm sperm all shot into her. She lifted herself up from my dick and showed me how much I cum inside her. My cum dripped out of her pussy and onto my body. She smiled at me and knelt between my legs. She licked all the cum she had dripped onto my body and then licked my cock. She licked my cock clean after I had ejaculated four times, leaving no cum on my cock except her saliva. Eunha also kissed my cock to thank me for the cum today. "That's it for today, thank you for all the cum today." I smiled at her happily.

When I finished, the other two finished as well. Sinb and Umji also knelt between their thighs and licked their cocks clean to thank them for the cum today. All six of us collapsed on the bed exhausted. After a break, they thanked us again and promised us that they would do a good job in this promotion and hold such surprise events again if there is a chance. We also agreed with Viviz that we would be there on time to support them.

#gfriend smut #gfriend eunha smut #viviz smut #viviz eunha smut #eunha smut #jung eunbi smut

169 notes · View notes