#How to subtle touch your love interest and test the waters | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dokifluffs · 3 years ago

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Upsetting His Pregnant Wife | Ushijima, Sakusa

Pairings: Ushijima X Reader (female), Sakusa X Reader (female)

Genre: soft comfy angst to fluff tehe, mafia!ushi too!

Author’s Note: @ushijimabae suggested this idea to me as a comment on a post tehe and I really liked it so here I am! I hope you guys enjoy!! also LONGG also Boom more sakusa and now, Mafia! Ushijima tehe !

gif from @rivaillerose

Sakusa:

This sinking feeling in your chest

The touch of his skin against yours was so short, so fleeting whenever you sat beside him, reached for his hand, or you just wanted to be with him

You couldn’t tell if maybe this had been normal or if you were just overreacting because of your hormones but whatever it was

You didn’t like this feeling

Especially when you just wanted to be with him

It felt like recently, now that Omi would be home with you for the next few months to take care of you, whenever you wanted to spend some proper time with him, after a few moments of making contact with each other, he would be out of his seat, off to somewhere else to take care of a chore

It had been more or less than two weeks since Omi started staying home instead of going to practices or games from here on out, though he did get in a regular workout from home instead though

It felt like little fireworks were going off inside you the first two nights and days when you got to sleep later at night with him, staying up, and then waking up and finding him still beside you

But as the days went on, this little paradise was short lived as he woke up as his normal time for his morning practices to go out on long runs instead

Leaving you alone at breakfast

Whenever he came home and took a thorough shower, even giving him a hug, a burning and sinking feeling filled your chest when you wrapped your arms around him the best you could with your bump and all

But his hands

You loved him and his hands but not this moment as he subtly and lightly pushed your arms kind of away from him, breaking the hug early

You didn’t mind it since it was only the first thing but you noticed it a few more times after dinner

When you tried to drape your legs across his lap, he would lightly pat your legs, telling you he needed to use the bathroom and come back and sit somewhere else like on a different couch or sit beside you, practically at arms distance

But enough was enough

You didn’t want to directly ask but you also couldn’t just ignore this

But this moment was perfect

The last ounces of light glowed in the summer sky as the temperature slowly dropped as night approached

Fireflies slowly began to shine and float about throughout the neighborhood as their time of the year was here

You could feel the heat through the rubber gloves as you scrubbed the dishes clean, not a plate or utensil left in the drying rack as you dried them off too, returning them to their rightful place back in the cupboards

All the leftover dishes were put away

Floors swept

Table wiped down

Chairs returned to their rightful place

There was nothing he could possibly do in the kitchen that needed to be put away or cleaned or anything

This really would prove whether or not he really was avoiding you and just the thought

The mere idea that he possible could be

It broke your heart

“Omiomi, do you want some tea?” You called from the kitchen as you swirled a spoonful of honey into yours, the metal utensil creating light tinging sounds as the edges tapped the sides of the porcelain cup

“No, thanks,” he responded, his voice monotone as he didn’t even look up, continuing to scroll through his phone

You switched off the kitchen light, emerging from the darkness toward the light in the living room, towards your husband

And now this was the true test

You drank your tea, sitting on the recliner, one of the other available seats, sipping your tea while you watched some tv

But you weren’t really paying attention

You were just mindlessly watching the images and scenes come and go as you peripherally observed Omi

And here it was

After about what you thought were a few minutes, you set down your tea onto the coffee table and put on a warm, loving smile, Omi’s eyes meeting yours, off his phone as your approached

The couch sighed beneath your weight as you sat close to Omi, draping your legs across his lap, cuddling close, resting your head on his shoulder

He was so warm, it seeped into your skim, making your heart flutter just feeling his touch

You nuzzled even closer, making yourself at homes in his arms which felt so natural

He continued to scroll, minding his own as his hand lightly stroked down your leg

Though you were so caught up in just being near him for the first time in awhile that you didn’t even notice his hand was practically hovering over your leg

Kiyoomi sat comfortably in his seat with you at his side, your presence so nice

It was so comforting for the two of you

But there was an itch

Or something

There was just a feeling inside of him and he didn’t know what he needed to do to get rid of it

He could smell your tea from where he sat as the scent wafted toward him

It felt so nice, this feeling that you had been longing for so long

And now you had it and him

The warm aroma of the tea warmed him inside and out, alongside your touch at his side - it was so calming

As you settled in, you felt silly now that you realized that you thought Kiyoomi wouldn’t want to be at your side anymore

He paused in his movements, thinking about the tea as he watched yours on the coffee table

After a few silent moments that you settled in, you felt a light, subtle push from him, your mind telling you that he was telling you to get off of him

“Actually, I will make some tea, I’ll be back..” He walked off stoically, not even sparing you a glance as he made up his mind unbeknownst to you that he wanted tea to drink with you

You couldn’t even begin to describe what the sudden temperature change that happened inside your body, your heart dropping and breaking inside

His body disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing a cup, making his tea, stirring in honey and warm milk, the warm aroma smelled so good, he could almost taste it

The blanket pooled on the floor as it slid off your legs as you made your way up the stairs, your vision blurring, a deep low rumbling in your ears as you held your breath

A heat burning in your throat as it felt like it was being closed off

“Y/N? Where are you going?”

The voice of your husband sounded while you were already halfway up the stairs, his cup of tea in hand and a plate of crackers to go with it but he didn’t miss the sound of your sniffles

“A bath...” you pushed out, trying to sound as normal as possible but he heard the slightest quiver

Also it didn’t make sense to him. You had already showered earlier today and there was no reason for you to clean yourself again

Did you spill your tea on yourself?

No, that wasn’t it since your tea was just as he saw it last before he went to make his own

He set down the platter of crackers, sipping his own tea in silence, waiting to hear the water start to run

But after a few minutes, there was nothing

He went up the dimly lit carpeted stairs to the upper level, still not hearing any water running, no music that you usually played while you showered or bathed

Nothing

But only as he stepped into your guys’ shared bedroom, turning on the light could he hear the faintest thing

Sniffles and sad weeps sounded through the crack beneath the bathroom door

Your cheeks were burning from how your tears made your skin dry, your eyes sore, your throat dry

Now you really wish you had your tea

But you also wished you had your husband with you

It was a dull but deepening ache in your chest as you thought about it more and more and it was all you could think of

Was he losing interest? Now? With the baby on the way?

Did he not love you as much anymore?

It broke your heart, you couldn’t hold in your cries as it seeped out

Omi’s hand hovered over the doorknob before he heard you

He never felt it before in his life but his heart sunk deep inside hearing your cries

Your hands trembled as you buried your mouth into your elbow, muffling the cries as if you were afraid he could hear you all the way downstairs but you didn’t want to get carried away

You would have to return downstairs or see him at some point

Even if it felt like to you that he didn’t want to

Your arms and legs felt cold as you sat on the tiled floor of the bathroom, only the moonlight pooling in from the skylight was your only source of light in the bathroom

You hugged yourself the best you could, your hands rubbing over and around your pregnant belly

At least you weren’t truly alone

“I have you,” you whimpered to yourself in your head, feeling more tears slide down your face, dripping off your chin

This dreadful feeling - it was so unsatisfying

It didn’t feel right at all but there was nothing you could do, at least not that you could think of

It hurt

As you sniffled and cried in the moonlight by yourself in the cold bathroom, you almost didn’t hear the light knock until it was more prominent

The sound itself made you instinctively freeze as if you were hiding

“Y/N?”

Kiyoomi was knelt down on the carpet right outside the bathroom door, no longer standing

For the first time, he was heartbroken just hearing your anguish

He had never really loved someone outside his family or volleyball in his life before until you came in and now here you two were

He never understood how hearing others being sad could make himself sad but he knew now that he was experiencing it

“Please open the door.” He held the doorknob, the metal cool in the palm of his hand as he gripped it, not hesitating to open it as soon as he felt the click of you unlocking it

Before he could even think, his body moved as natural as breathing

“What’re you doing crying in the dark by yourself, honey?” He asked with such a hurt in his voice as the lights came on and your body was enveloped into his

His voluntary touch, his voice

He did his best to hold you even with your large pregnant belly in between the two of you

Your heart beat faster as your legs gave out a bit more despite you already being on the ground

Sad cries were buried into his chest

He practically lifted you off the floor and into his lap even though you were much heavier now that you were pregnant but he could care less about your pregnant weight, even if this was your normal weight

You cried and he comforted you, rubbing his hand down your back slowly, wiping away your tears, letting you let it all out

Nothing more mattered to him than you

“It feels like recently,” you started, your voice weak, your eyes down, watching your hands fiddle with each other with his hand that wiped your tears, pads of his fingers grazing your skin

“It feels like you’re avoiding me or like you don’t want me anymore - like you don’t want to be near me,” you whimpered, feeling a pang in your chest as it dissipated into a warm heat that melted through your body

Your own words made you feel crazy now that you were saying it out loud

“What do you mean?” He asked genuinely curious

“Have I been saying things in a brushing off manner? Did I ignore you?” He asked, assessing the terrain as usual

“Well, whenever we’re downstairs, I wanna cuddle with you but after a few minutes of me being beside you, you get up and go somewhere else,” your voice cracked as all these moments you’ve been observing for the past few weeks ran through your head

“And sometimes you come back and sit somewhere else, so it just feels like you don’t want me or you don’t want to be near me…” It hurt as it felt like your fear was coming through the more you thought about it, the more you said it

You sobbed into his chest, bringing your hands to your mouth to silence your cries but they were just too painful and obvious to hide

Kiyoomi listened to every word you said before he wrapped his arms more securely around you, resting his cheek upon the crown of your head as he rocked ever so slightly with you in his lap

“Have I really been doing that?” He spoke his thoughts, not remembering exactly when he did this but of course he didn’t mean to

You nodded, whimpering as the tears couldn’t be stopped, the sinking feeling now changing and morphing into almost what felt like a cold twist and pull inside, coiling more and more as the mere thought of your husband not wanting you grew

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I really didn’t mean to do this. And of course I want to be with you.” He rubbed his hands against your arms, squeezing them without bringing you any pain

“I don’t want to make any excuses but it could’ve just been an old part of me that still exists.. With all these germs and diseases in the world, I never thought I would be with anyone at all..” He looked down to you, your face in such a close proximity with his, he just knew that if his high school self could see him now, he probably would have been in such utter disbelief

Words couldn’t even begin to describe the cool yet also warm wave of guilt slowly was over him as disappointment pooled deep within

“But you came into my life.” He reassured, putting his words together carefully. “You’re the one I married and I made a vow to be with til death years ago.” He squeezed with every word, hoping they would help mend your broken pieces back together

“I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked into a whisper, his hand cupping your face, wiping away as many tears as he could in hopes he could see your god sent smile soon

your eyes straining from all the tears you’ve been weeping

And at this point, you couldn’t even tell if they were open or closed anymore

But either way, you were just feeling so much all at once, it was overwhelming

you wanted this moment to freeze so everything could be sorted out

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you as tightly as he could without hurting you in any way

His tough alone, hearing him, feeling him, his warmth

It was just much for your wounded heart

“I’ll hold you like this whenever you want until it’s time for me to go back and however long you want.” He leaned back into the door, holding you close

His hands and arms never really ceased their movements as he always rubbed or stroked his skin lightly with yours

“I love you,” he spoke into your head, holding you as physically close as he could.

And never in his life did he ever think he would want this with anyone but he never wanted to let you go

gif from @rivaillerose

Ushijima: ft. Tendo

Pregnancy was very much the biggest, newest experience you would be going through for sure

Newest because you never thought you would live in such a lavish home, alongside many others, able to travel to any of them with any of the modes of transportation Wakatoshi provided

You never thought you would be connected to the mafia in any way, let alone be the wife of Wakatoshi, the boss, but the story of how you two met would be a different one to tell another day

Guards stood their post at the entrances, on the terraces, walked the dogs around the perimeter of the property

It felt like the safest place in the world but you knew there were always risks, always factors that weren’t obvious to consider whenever you went somewhere

And now that you were pregnant with your and Wakatoshi’s first child, there were extra precautions - more guards, tighter security around the perimeter and everywhere

He always wanted you safe but he never wanted you to feel trapped or like a dog on a leash

No, that was the last thing you wanted. If he could go back in time and never be involved in this dark life, he would

He would give it all up with no strings attached or any dangers if he could if it meant he could give you a normal life and family that you could call your own with your own husband and kids

Thunder rumbled as rain poured down from the skies

You paused in your steps at a particular loud boom of thunder, clinging onto the arm of the man beside you as you walked around the house since you couldn’t really walk your normal outside route

“You’re scared of thunder?” The somewhat playful voice of Tendou Satori chimed lightly as he peered outside before glancing back to you

“Just a bit..” You understated, doing your best to hide behind the tall, lean man just a bit as you the two of you walked through one part of the estate that you loved whenever the weather was anything but stormy

The windows in this hallway bridge-like area of the house was just so big, it was mesmerizing but whenever the dark storm clouds rolled by, you wanted to be as far away as possible

It was just the daunting fear you had that, somehow, thunder or wind or even lightning would strike the window, blowing the shattered pieces inward and toward you and you would just die like that

“Can we go a little faster? I don’t like being here when it storms..” You reached with your other hand over your belly, grasping his uniform jacket even more

“Hmm hmm, sure thing,” he hummed. “But you’re the one setting the pace, I’ve just been following you, Y/N,” he teased but you knew it was the truth

You wanted to go on your daily walk outside and usually it was either Wakatoshi with you or Tendou but more recently, it had been Tendou and your walk had to be inside because of the weather

“I’m waddling as fast as I can!” You bantered, getting him to laugh

You only started these little strolls since your belly had been growing since it helped relieve and most of the time prevent cramps - though they still came out of nowhere at times

Tendou had been by Wakatoshi’s side since as long as you could remember

He was the top head of the security and both your and Wakatoshi’s first hand man when it came to anything - he knew everyone

You waddled along the carpet, eyes staring off into the distance of the house

There was just a feeling

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it

How long had it been since you got to hold onto your husband’s arm?

How long before you could again?

Turning the corner from the hall, you could hear rain beginning to tap and shower onto the glass of the windows

But of course, you also didn’t miss the flash of thunder, making you squeeze onto Tendou’s arm

“Hm, there there. The storm can’t get in,” he comforted you with his soothing voice, nice to listen to as it wasn’t too harsh or low but quite playful despite his combat abilities that would make others think he was quite intimidating

He led you away, down another hall, turning into a more concealed room that had less windows but there were a lot of things he could distract you with

It was sort of like a library but it wasn’t at the same time - it was weird but it was one of those rooms in the whole estate that could be anything wakatoshi or you wanted

But this was your comfort-play room

It was a tall yet also “small” room where he wakatoshi was able to get you anything you wanted

To the left of the entrance, there were bookshelves of your favorite mangas, graphic novels, book series, photo albums that took up half of a whole wall with a nice wooden table where you could sit and eat or study or anything

Then on the other side of the room, to the right of the entrance, there was a big tv and big plush couch that you could sleep on like a bed or just to lounge back and watch movies

There were gaming consoles and movies that you could always be able to watch or play, with nice led lights that changed based on the ambiance you chose or based off the sound

And quite a unique feature was a fridge disguised as a bookshelf, filled with cool snacks and drinks and water and just a lot more that you also shared with security and others that worked in the house, though toshi would remind you that you didn’t have to

But you insisted, they were humans too with lives and souls

“Are you going tonight?” You sat yourself onto the couch, the plush fabric rubbing against your skin, leaning into the plush back as he stood at the door, holding his hands behind his back

“The gala? No.. I’m staying here with you tonight,” he smiled, popping his hands out to make jazz hands. “To keep you safe~” he chimed. “And company.”

You patted the couch, inviting him over since he never really needed to stand at the door and be super formal with you - plus you knew that he was always on guard no matter how relaxed he truly looked

He had two lives to protect in this room, even if it meant giving up his own for your ensured survival

He was a friend of yours too, someone in the house you could talk to about anything beside toshi if he wasn’t there, who unfortunately wasn’t the most accessible recently

“Is tosh bringing a guest this year?” You pondered

“No, not this year I don’t think.. he seemed a lot busier this morning when I saw him and he talked about how a few others were unhappy but he didn’t seem too bothered. It was just other business stuff I didn’t ask about..”

You nodded before you mindlessly turned on the tv. “Do you want to watch anything?” You turned toward him

“Mm, maybe some horror?” He suggested. “But will you be brave enough?”

“I actually don’t know, I’ve never really watched any horrors, but you’re staying with me tonight anyways.” And with that said, you put on his suggestion of the conjuring

The ambiance of the room shifted, turning dark as it matched the movie, the surround system making you tense even though nothing had really happened yet

But all you could sort of think about was the gala

It was a prestigious event where leaders of the city and mostly those in the higher socioeconomic class gathered, having a luxurious dinner with a ball

Toshi had taken you a few times, though as his power grew, so did the threats - there was a shooting one year where there were fortunately no casualties, though a lot of heavily injured and it was revealed by the police that you were the main target

From then on, security increased and he didn’t let you go as his guest

Instead, a fake guest that was dressed to look like you was invited

Initially, the thought made you feel envious of whoever got to go.. got to spend time with your husband when you didn’t get to but he kept your worries at bay, riding at separate cars, not even offering to dance as he would mainly eat dinner and leave

But even his guests were shot and killed

The movie kept you tense the entire times

The white noise during the silent parts, the sudden base drops and loud booms of doors slamming or jump scares - it was all so much

You curled your legs up, holding one of the large pillows in your lap so you could easily hide away behind it because if you couldn’t see the ghost, the ghost couldn’t see you

“Can I hold your arm?” You looked over to tendo as he enjoyed the movie as you scorched yourself closer to him, already reaching for his limb before he could actually respond

“Sure,” he laughed. “But if you want to stop watching, we can always watch something else.”

“No, cause now I want to know what happens.” You clutched onto his arm, his hand loosely in yours, just resting there

If anything, you were the one squeezing him, making him actually laugh through the movie than scared at the loud noises and jump scares - plus the face he had already seen this series quite a few times but still loved it

As much as you appreciated tendo and loved him as a friend, you wished that you were hugging your husband’s arm instead

To get your mind off of it, you pushed through the conjuring series movie, even the prequels like the nun, only to cling tighter and tighter to tendo through all of them

Before you knew it, it was practically the usual time Wakatoshi would be leaving

“I wanna go see him off!” You paused the movie, instantly turning on the lights and reaching out your hand so tendo could help pull you to your feet. “If he’s not bringing a guest then maybe he can just stay home tonight then?” You wondered to yourself, a fall hope casting a glaze over the truth you didn’t want to admit over yourself

Tendo escorted you down the brightly lit hallway, leading you down the stairs, through the living room, past the kitchen, down a small elevator which led right into the basement, and finally turning the corner into the main garage, right where you caught up to him

He looked stunning in his suit, his olive green hair slicked back

“Toshi!” You waddled the fastest you could over to him beside the open car door, his men watching stoically like statues all around at their posts

Now that you were down here, it was you had a single chance - like you had to trust the other person not to drop the rope or to let go of their hand

“Y/N,” his voice was so clear and strong, sounding over the car, though you could just tell from how he said it, his tone was off - he wasn’t in his bestest mood

Before you could speak, he took a few strides, walking past you, approaching Tendo who stood at the door

Before you could fully turn around, you heard it and it was too late

Tendo’s face looked down and to the side, his cheek turning red as he kept his composure while your husband spoke, clearly upset about something.. angry even

“I told you to keep her inside while I left. Which part of those orders were unclear?” Ushijima spoke, staring into the eyes of tendo who only kept his head down, not daring to say another word. “I specifically instructed you that I didn’t want to see her when I left..”

“What?” Your heart dropped, the heart from your chest suddenly turning cold

It burned your eyes, the prickles of your tears, which felt sharper than ever in your dry eyes as all you could do was stare

Did you hear correctly? Your own husband didn’t want you to see him off? Or to.. see you tonight?

When he turned back around, he made long, clear strides to the car, barely even looking at you

“Bring her back upstairs.” His final orders as he shut the door, the vehicle driving off

Tendo silently approached you, an apologetic look pooling in his eyes as your vision of him blurred before the hot tear trickled down your cheek

He led you in, staying with you

The ride up the elevator felt slower than before when you went down Stepping out, you took his hand, leading him to the counter while others were stationed

“Please leave us,” you could barely speak but with a silent nod from tendo and the others, they left

You grabbed a small ice pack from the freezer, waddling it over to tendo, his cheek rosier than before, and brought the pack up to his face

He kept his eyes down, even raising his hands up so you wouldn’t have to hold it but your hand would only push his away

It was only when he saw the tear drops fall onto the floor did his eyes shoot up

His heart ached for you as he couldn’t even begin to imagine how you must’ve felt

“Y/N-“

“Why didn’t he want to see me?” It only hurt more as you rubbed salt into your own wound, repeating his words. “What did I do wrong?” Your lip quivered as all you could manage to do was stand still, staring off toward the wall as the tears fell as fast as they came, drenching your cheeks and your shirt around your belly with tears and wet stains

It only took a moment before you took deep gasps for air, your face scrunching up as you cried, your legs no longer having the energy to hold you up as you sunk to the cold tiled floor

“Y/N!” Tendo took hold of your arms, trying to help you stand but you just couldn’t

“I just wanted to see him.. I feel like I haven’t seen him in so long cause of his work and- and then..” You couldn’t push yourself anymore as you caught yourself, keeping the dam at bay. “I just wanted to see him, Satori, was that so wrong?” You sobbed, face contorted, lip weak as you broke

There was no point in keeping it in when it hurt so much yet felt so good to let it all out

“I miss him!” You clung onto his arms as he did his best to help you to your feet

The pain you felt - it ached, it burned, it seared itself onto your soul so that every thought, no matter how recent or fresh a thought of your husband was it made sure to make it’s presence known

The pain made sure to hurt and hurt it did with your own husband’s words repeating in your head

Tendo knelt beside you, offering his handkerchief to wipe away your tears although they never showed any signs of stopping

With all his might, he carried you upstairs, walking you to your bedroom where you went in, closing the door immediately on him

Even just looking at the bed, as much as you loved it and wished to sleep away the pain, you knew, you could feel how much your heart ached just seeing his pillow

You mustered up the energy to crawl in, pulling the blanket over you, pillows into your arms and between your legs and you just sobbed

Nothing felt like it mattered and it felt like nothing could be done about this pain

Tendo could hear it all through the door as he stood guarding his post, glancing up at the camera in the corner as he saw the red light blinking and through it, he knew who was watching

On the other side, Ushijima looked Ito the camera’s surveillance, cooled off a bit more

A strange feeling began to pool inside of him as he switched back, hearing your audible distress through the cameras and that he was the cause - guilt

“Turn around.” He commanded to his driver

The longer he stared outside the window and at his phone of the cameras, all he could think about was you and just the shame he felt for having to hurt you

He was completely oblivious to your feelings of wanting him at your side but felt so ignorant for not being at your side in the first place

“I will make things right..” He told himself as the car sped back home

Your nose grew stuffier and your eyes puffier the longer you laid there, just… you didn’t even know what you wanted at this point

The front castes of the state opened and close, allowing his car to slip back into the garage as he sped his way upstairs, right towards you, passed the numerous guards and servants

“Tendo.. I’m sorry.” He apologized as the other bowed his head before he opened the door and slipping himself in, shutting it silently behind him

Hearing your sobs through the cameras were already bringing him enough guilt but to hear it before him, he could hear and practically feel the pain he had caused you

He silently stepped over to you, kneeling beside your bed

“Y/N,” he said, bringing you a strange feeling aside from pain.. How was it that the voice that hurt you not long ago was saying your name with such a softness, that you couldn’t even believe it was the same one that hurt you?

“There’s no physical amount of love I can give you or speak with enough love in my words to make up for my hurtful words. There is no good excuse for what I said. I am sorry.”

You were speechless - you didn’t know what you wanted to do or say? Not respond to him? But that would only open a rift.. respond? Hugging would be nice since that’s just what you’ve been wanting to do for so long but you were so upset about his words, how he treated tendo

He knelt on his knees beside you, silently, patiently waiting for what you had to do or say

You remained still, laid on your side with the damp pillows in your arms as you kept your eyes closed - you wanted this to be a nightmare and maybe you would wake up while watching the movie with tendo back in your other room

But this was the aching reality

“Why.. did you say you didn’t want to see me?” You thought you had the courage as you pushed the words through your closed throat but you were wrong

Your voice lost its strength throughout the sentence as you swallowed, feeling the hard aching lump

“There is no excuse for my temper. I sincerely apologize for taking it out on you. I was angry to begin with because of the business I had to take care of before the gala and not everything went smoothly. I wanted to further ensure your safety in case others attempt an intrusion while I was leaving. I am terribly sorry, Y/N..” He lowered his head upset, feeling like a fool at himself

He should’ve never taken his emotions out on you. Instead, he should have felt the opposite effect

Seeing you before the party should’ve been the best thing, where all his negativity could be changed to something better because you were the best person who had come into his life

Shame and dread mixed and stirred within Wakatoshi beside you

He didn’t feel worthy

Guilt ate at him but to him, he opened his arms to these feelings knowing that this would not be enough punishment for speaking and treating like he did tonight

“If you wish, I will leave you..” He stood, turning to make his leave when he felt a grasp, a force

You pulled onto his hand, the two of you locking eyes as he fell onto the bed, his hands falling on both sides of your legs

And now he could see you so clearly, it hit him all at once

He missed you too

God seeing your eyes, how red they were, how tired - how could he have done this to you

“Stay.. Stay,” was all you could push out, your voice squeaking

This was the last thing he had expected you to say

He didn’t know what to say

He nodded, silently pushing himself off as he slipped out of your fingers to disappear into the closet, changing out of his suit into much comfier, simpler clothes

You wiped your face with your sleeves, feeling the sting at the sudden dryness of your skin

“Please don’t cry…” he wished to say, but obviously if you wanted to, you would’ve - and deep down, it was subconsciously something he wanted to say to make himself feel a bit better about himself but he didn’t

He knew better

Getting into bed beside you, he brought a tissue box, plucking a few as he moved himself to your side, feeling more and more ashamed of himself as he got closer, seeing your anguish

“I’m so sorry..” He wiped your face gently

It felt like there was nothing he could say since he hurt you originally with the words but now it felt like all he could truly to to help was to be with you

It was what you had wanted

You gave him another shock as you reached your arms around him, holding him and for once tonight, the comforting feeling of feeling your husband in your arms actually felt better than the words that broke your heart

This

You were so starved of it and now you could heal

He wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back as you nuzzled yourself into his chest

“Did you apologize to tendo?” You asked, sniffling as you looked up to him, stern with a small pout on your lips and brows furrowed, ready to be angry

“I did.. I will apologize more sincerely tomorrow, but tonight, you should rest..” He paused, cupping your face, grazing his thumb along your dry cheek

“I will be here and be by your side whenever you wish from now on. This is my promise to you,” he vowed, cherishing the feeling of your body laying in his, pondering what he did that made him able to deserve you in his life, to be by his side in this lifetime

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged or removed for all my haikyuu posts): @makeusfreefromthisfandom @yams046 @sunboikyo00 @kara-grayson04 @fortheloveofbakugo @tsumtsumsemi @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci @realityisoftendisapointing @plantisnotplant @pink-panda-pancakes @differentballooncollection @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction @euphorihan @turquoiselace @macaronnv @oxmaddy @mrkoala4prsdnt @curiouslilbeast @plantisnotplant@therestless101 @abcdaichi @oyasenpai @kaaidalupita @lovinnoya @wisepandaslimeland @killuaking @kattykurr @bbymilkbread @tsumtsumland @suunikimchi @woah-there-cowboy-or-cowgirl @amandahh626 @nabisonyeo94 @wntrmn @dai-tsukki-desu @peteunderoos @ohyoumakemelive @aka-a-shii @shinhiromi @wompwomphq @lollypop-lam @isentsworld @blue-melody @u-wakatoshii @moondriplets @lovinnoya @yuueisteria @humanitysbiggestsimp @cjphoenix135 @inarizaki-captain @closetfurrytsukishima @chibichab @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @kuroosbixh @lavearchives @sweet-sour-devil-ish @daichis-kitty @creepyproxies @itsmarziapei @skyh20 @yehetstudies @that-chick212 @proherotheflamehashira @celestair @katiea03 @manga-only @chesirekittycat @ilovecheese08 @amy-yurima @realityisabitch-blr @suga-tofu @ushislittlewife @nabisonyeo94 @aaprilshowers @emotional-ayato @to-move-on-means-to-grow @kellesvt @haikyuu-galaxy @8-eight-8 @xiaoqiji @japanesevenom @cemeiia @pantherhappy @sassyglassesbunny @devilgirlcrybabiey @ushijimacentral asd

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samstree · 3 years ago

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A Study in Blushing

In which Jaskier makes a surprising discovery and decides to test it out.

(tooth rotting fluff, blushing geralt, soft jaskier, love confessions, kissing, winter at kaer morhen, rated teen, 3000 words)

Also, I know witchers can't blush in canon but seriously we should all know better.

read on AO3

��Gods damn it, bard! I know Geralt tolerates all your shit because he’s in love with you, but you gotta put things back where they belong!”

Lambert grumbles something more all the while putting the training swords back on the shelf, and Jaskier’s mind stops.

The world zeroes in on the words he’s in love with you and suddenly Jaskier can’t form words.

“W...What did you—”

“I said—” Lambert throws down the last one with a clunk. “—the swords go back on the shelf!”

“Geralt...is in love with me?” Jaskier breathes, unbelieving.

Lambert pauses, “Don’t you know?”

“No...?”

“Fuck. Pretty boy can’t get his head out of his ass and now I have to suffer.”

With that, Lambert tries to shoulder past Jaskier but the bard is having none of it. “No!” he puts a hand on Lambert’s chest. “Don’t even think about it. How? Since when? And how do you know?”

Lambert mumbles something unintelligible, before sighing long-sufferingly. “It’s too obvious, Buttercup.”

“How is it obvious? Does Geralt walk around with the words ‘I’m smitten with my bard and all the grumpy face is faked’ written on his forehead? How, pray tell, is it obvious?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Lambert, the bastard, raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Did you truly not know?”

“No!”

Jaskier is so close to grabbing Lambert by the collar just to shake some answers out of him, and finally, the youngest wolf takes pity on him.

“He looks at you differently when he thinks you are doing something cute. He trips over his words after you call him sweet names. The worst of it all—he blushes any time you are close. Blushes, like a fucking maiden. Urgh, I’m gonna throw up.”

“Oh,” Jaskier deflates, “Witchers blush?”

“See for yourself.” Lambert rolls his eyes, walking past Jaskier with a few long strides. “And put the swords back!”

Jaskier decides to test it out, because there’s no way Geralt is in love with him.

Loving him as a friend, sure, why not? Despite what ignorant folks claim about witchers, Jaskier knows by experience that Geralt has a heart bigger and more capable of love than most. But Geralt being in love with Jaskier? Like, he-wants-to-kiss-him in love with him? No way.

Blushing because of him? Ha! More like in Jaskier’s wildest dreams.

Although that would be really cute.

“Pass me the salt, honey?” Jaskier reaches out a hand to the other end of the table, and Geralt passes the salt without thinking.

Hmm.

No tripping over words.

“Thank you, dear heart.”

He’s putting as much sweetness in his voice as possible and Geralt is…normal. His eyebrows are raised to the roof, and there’s a faint smile by the corners of his eyes. But that’s just how Geralt is…right? He’s home and he’s relaxed, he smiles with his eyes rather than his lips, and it’s got nothing to do with Jaskier.

Jaskier chews, staring at Geralt subtly.

Not subtle enough.

“Something on my face?”

“No—” Jaskier chokes, hacking like a fool and tipping sideways. “Just—too much salt.”

Geralt scoffs, the faint smile turning into a brief grin, and hands over a cup of water.

Jaskier wants the ground to swallow him whole.

The snow is terrible.

The whole keep is freezing like an ice cube, and Jaskier has to blow on his hands from time to time just to function in the library. He’s the lucky one, in the grand scheme of things. The witchers still need to go outside to fix up the walls and tend to the animals.

Geralt hasn’t been back in a while.

Jaskier puts down the quill he’s been chewing anxiously and rushes out the door—

And bumps right into Geralt’s chest.

“Sweet Melitele, that’s a lot of snow!” Jaskier spits out the snow knocked into his mouth, before looking at Geralt properly. “Oh, you’re hurt.”

The cut on Geralt’s eyebrow is a small one, but Jaskier worries nonetheless. Geralt doesn’t look impressed, only walks straight towards the small medkit sitting on a shelf.

“Repairment has to wait. The wind is bad.” Geralt grunts, trying to touch the wound and missing by a mile.

“Here, let me.”

Jaskier takes the salve from Geralt’s slightly shaking hands and pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket. Geralt is frowning so hard he can crack a walnut with those eyebrows.

“Relax,” Jaskier murmurs, blowing gently at the cut while dabbing at the blood. Upon deeming it clean enough, he applies a scoop of the salve that smells of celandine and mint. “Don’t move. It’ll only hurt a bit.”

Geralt keeps shying away from Jaskier’s ministration so he has no choice but to wrap his other hand around Geralt’s jaw, which manages to still him instantly.

“There,” Jaskier smiles. “Shouldn’t need anything more. Your witcher healing will kick in soon.”

Geralt tilts his head with that soft look in his eyes. “My thanks. Wouldn’t have survived without you.”

“No shit! Who goes out in a storm like this one? If you ask me, Vesemir is too tough on you. Look at you…” Jaskier coos, taking Geralt’s hands. “You are like a popsicle, dear heart.”

He tries to rub some heat back into Geralt’s freezing hands, his skin dry and rough. There’s still some hand cream left in Jaskier’s room. Maybe he can fetch it later. Geralt needs to take care of his hands better when his living depends on them.

Geralt groans, looking away. The frames of his ears are beet red too; he must have been outside without a hat for all this time. Jaskier wants to cover them with his warm palms, only to have his hands batted away.

“No, there’s—I’m fine,” Geralt mumbles. If Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d think the way Geralt avoids his eyes is a result of shyness. The bard can snort at the ridiculous idea and stubbornly presses his hands over Geralt’s ears.

Oh.

His ears are red because they are so warm, not cold

Now that they are standing so close, only a hand’s breadth away, Geralt looks stunned, his eyes dilating, only leaving a ring of gold around those dark pupils. There’s even a layer of pink dusting over his pale cheeks.

A blushing witcher.

Oh, this is interesting.

“Geralt, sweetie?” Jaskier husks, lowering his voice especially on the pet name. “Are you warm enough?”

“Um, sure…not cold.”

And he watches as Geralt’s mind ceases to work in front of his eyes, the blush deepening. It’s still a subtle thing. No wonder Jaskier has missed it all this time. Calloused hands wrap around Jaskier’s wrists, and the bard finally relents, letting go.

If he spends the rest of the day sitting at the desk with a quill in hand, thinking about the way Geralt’s skin feels against his and the warmth of his cheeks, nobody needs to know.

Jaskier doesn’t know what to do with this piece of new information.

Geralt does blush.

Because of him.

He tries to repeat the experiment. Just to be sure, he tells himself. And every time it yields the same results. As soon as he gets into Geralt’s space, the witcher either stumbles through his words or gets all flustered all over. The fondness is there too, just in a very Geralt and very unnoticeable manner, soft and almost smiling.

Jaskier is so drunk on power.

The only thing left is to tell Geralt that he loves him too. That he’s also in love in love with him, as in an I-also-want-to-kiss-you kind of way, and then… they can finally kiss!

Oh, just inwardly rehearsing the scene makes Jaskier dizzy, and somehow he ends up smiling to himself when he’s so deep in thoughts planning the conversation, once even in front of company.

Lambert throws him a side-eye and a disgusted grunt, but Jaskier can’t care less.

He finds the perfect night, and even takes a sip of White Gull from Eskel’s cup just to calm his nerves.

And he realizes too late that, perhaps, the strongest witcher brew might be a mistake.

The effect is stronger than he anticipated, and Jaskier is giggling through the fog in his mind within mimutes, somehow ending up on Geralt’s lap, draped over his shoulder in a heap of soft, pliant mess.

He rests his temple against Geralt’s and nearly tips backward if not for the strong arm that catches him by the waist.

“Oops, thank the gods I have my big witcher here!” Jaskier runs the tips of his fingers across Geralt’s stubbles. It tickles, and the blush is back, unmistakably, since Geralt is as sober as the day. “I’d fall over on my butt without you! And falling over doesn’t look good before saying important things, does it?”

Huh, he’s said it out loud.

“Saying what things?”

Well, if it’s out there…

“Where do I start again? Right of course, with how beautiful you look when you’re like this!”

His fingers move to tuck the curtain of white hair behind Geralt’s ears. No matter how much Jaskier loves it when Geralt wears his hair down, he needs to look into those amber eyes without obstruction. The molten gold gleams with surprise and Jaskier wants to drown in it.

“I’m not…” Geralt splutters, before closing his mouth with a pop. The flush is stretching down his neck now, and Jaskier chases it with a hand.

“You are!” he insists petulantly. “You are blushing and it’s beautiful. Adorable too! I wouldn’t know if Lambert hadn’t told me—” he burps. “—um, everything.”

“Told you what?”

The alarm in Geralt’s voice should wake Jaskier up immediately, but alas, the White Gull is no joke.

“Shh!” he stage-whispers, “It’s a secret! Don’t tell Geralt! I need to do it right!”

Jaskier lets out a happy sound and leans into the comforting embrace that he loves so much. Under his fingers, he can feel heat still gather under Geralt’s skin, making him look equally annoyed and fond.

“You are not making sense, Jask.”

“Nothing about you makes sense either, but I’m here. And ready.” Jaskier smiles and presses a chaste kiss on Geralt’s cheekbone, humming another happy sound.

Kissing Geralt is nice, gives Jaskier all the fuzzy feelings.

But somehow, that was also the wrong thing to do, because Geralt has gone stiff under Jaskier’s body. The next thing he knows, the witcher is struggling to untangle their limbs and leaving him empty and cold.

“Don’t…do this,” he murmurs, upset. “Just…don’t.”

The anguish the seeps through Geralt’s voice somehow manages to get through the muddy cloud in Jaskier’s mind.

“Wait, what?” Jaskier rights himself on unsteady feet, but his witcher is long gone. Eskel and Lambert are still nursing their tankards by the fire, and Jaskier wobbles past them without a care. He needs to find Geralt, who apparently charged right out of the great hall and into the cold night.

The heavy wooden doors open and Jaskier is hit with the unrelenting wind. The snow has stopped and partially melted, and frozen all over again. It’s the worst kind. Jaskier takes his steps with caution but still, it’s too slippery.

Okay. Mind. Clear. He needs it to be.

“Geralt?” he calls out, churning with anxiety. “Geralt, where are you?”

Damn his witcher speed. Now Jaskier is walking in the dark and freezing his balls off without an ounce of idea where Geralt might be. Oh, the stalls. Roach must be the first thought Geralt has when he needs to talk. Jaskier shudders, hugging his doublet tighter to fend off the wind and searches for the stalls blindly.

“Geralt, are you—ow!”

He walks right into a pillar and falls on his butt. Before Jaskier can register the pain, a pair of hands are picking him up by the armpits and he stumbles into Geralt’s embrace.

There’s a familiar sizzle of Igni, and the torch by the stalls is roaring with life.

“What are you doing out here?” A coat is tossed over Jaskier’s shoulders and he’s ushered back towards the building.

“Looking for you, you idiot!” Jaskier squawks, albeit grateful for the thick fur coat. A few more minutes he would lose all feelings in his toes. “Running into the night like this, who knows what can happen to you!”

“So you followed me out drunk and with no coat and I’m the idiot? Gods, I don’t know why I even…”

The doors creak open and there’s light and warmth and the smell of mead, but Jaskier’s heart sinks.

“I don’t know why you even bother too,” Jaskier muses, suddenly feeling like a scolded child.

Geralt steers Jaskier past the other wolf witchers and straight into his room, where the heat feels like a furnace on Jaskier’s frozen fingers—Geralt has been secretly tending to Jaskier’s fire for weeks after the human came down with a cold upon arrival at the keep. He’s too good to Jaskier.

“You are too good to me.”

“And you are a pain in the ass.”

Geralt sits Jaskier down in front of the fire rather grumpily, before joining him and pulling the coat even tighter. He’s still mad, just a smidge, but the droop of his eyes speaks more of sadness.

“Hey, talk to me,” Jaskier coaxes, squeezing Geralt’s knee in reassurance. Whatever argument coming their way, he can’t stand Geralt being sad.

“How drunk are you?”

“Not very.” If Geralt walking out hadn’t put Jaskier out of his daze, the wind sure finished the job. “White gull passes quickly. Hmm, who would have thought…”

“I need to tell you something.”

“But I need to tell you something too! It’s important.”

“Let me go first?”

The plead comes out in a whisper, and who is Jaskier to reject Geralt like this, wide-eyed and earnest?

“I never meant for you to know, and certainly not on a night like this, but Jaskier…” Geralt heaves out a breath, determined and so so brave. Jaskier is drawn closer to Geralt’s body like a magnet, ready to soothe, to meet him halfway. “I am in love with you.”

“Geralt.”

“I know you don’t feel the same, and it’s okay. You make a living singing about loving. Hell, you make a living simply by loving. Music, adventures, people, so many people. It’s okay that your heart is too big for me. But, Jask, I can’t take it anymore.”

“I don’t…not…”

“You flirt with people. You…touch them and kiss them and praise them. It’s okay. It’s the way you are. I understand that when you do the same with me it doesn’t mean anything more, but, Jaskier, I need you to stop.”

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes. “Do you hate it? I thought…differently.”

The smile that tugs at Geralt’s lips can only be described as crestfallen.

“The opposite. I love it too much. I’ll always want more. Always. I’m greedy like this.”

The guilt weighing down on Geralt’s shoulders is not a good sight, a personal offense to Jaskier. His hand reaches out on its own volition, tilting Geralt’s chin up so their gazes meet. The blush is back.

What did Jaskier do in his past life to deserve this man?

“That’s what I was going to say.”

“That you are greedy?”

The frown remains on Geralt’s face, and Jaskier smooths it with the pad of his thumb.

“No. That I am in love with you. Gods, for someone who’s not a bard, you sure know how to steal someone’s line from the beginning,” Jaskier chuckles. “I’ve been trying to tell you that I return your feelings. But alas, you know the coward that I am.”

“You are…not,” he protests, blinking.

The way Geralt defends him on instinct only makes Jaskier’s insides melt into a pool of fuzziness.

“In this, yes. How I fucked up so bad is a mystery. That’s just me I guess, trying to love you but ending up hurting you, making you feel like I’m stringing you along like anyone else.”

“I’m not?”

“No, you oaf.” Jaskier bops his nose. “You are the most important person in the world for me. This is the most important thing in the world to me! I love you and I love it when you blush. Also, I’d very much like to kiss you, if you want it too.”

Jaskier bites into his lips and watches as Geralt’s gaze drops to them, the pink of his cheeks spreading into the most gorgeous crimson. “I want to. Kiss you, that is.”

“Good.”

Jaskier wets his lips with a peak of the tongue and watches the same gesture returned. Even if the alcohol has left his system, the intoxication remains, only this time because of Geralt’s slightly dilated pupils and quickened breathing. He leans in, not being able to resist—

“Did you say ‘return my feelings’?” Geralt dodges away, looking incredulous. “Jaskier, did you know? And what was that about blushing?”

“Um…” Now Jaskier is the one to splutter. Luckily, he has a trick up his sleeves or two that can make sure Geralt forgets about every last thought there is.

Jaskier lunges forward and tackles his witcher onto the soft rug and kisses him within an inch of his life, deepening it like there’s no tomorrow. Judging by the dazed look on Geralt’s face as he comes up for air, the method is working.

Cupping Geralt’s rosy cheeks, Jaskier croaks proudly, “Tell you later?”

“We have all the later we need.” Geralt’s smile is blinding, and equally mischievous. Without a moment of pause, Jaskier ends up the one flipped onto his back and being kissed until he shudders with pleasure.

Jaskier has to thank Lambert properly one day, considering Geralt will certainly go after him with a vengeance.

For now, having Geralt on top of him and slowly melting into a contented mess should be enough. If he’s allowed, Jaskier vows silently, he would really like to make Geralt blush for him for the rest of his life.

Jaskier will totally make it his life's mission to tease Geralt endlessly and see his beautiful blush. 🥰🥰

On another note, I challenged myself to write 2000 words exactly, and this ended up, um, 3000 words exactly. I’ll count it as a win anyway ;)

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #getting together #requited love #kissing #hand holding #winter at kaer morhen #soft jaskier #geralt of rivia blushes

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uwuwriting · 4 years ago

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How the boys SIMP! w/ Bakugou, Kaminari and Todoroki

Request: I got like five requests about several of our favorite boys simping over their girlfriend so yeah, here we are.

Hi I’m not dead, yet at least. I;m starting to believe that my brain will turn to goo after all the chemistry and biology I’ve been studying. Sorry for not posting, my tumblr decided to be a dick and deleted my queued posts so haha yeah. Anyways my posts won’t be as regural as they used to because school....kill me. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: SIMPING

Bakugou Katsuki

-Okay he is rather subtle with his simping.

-He won’t straight up kiss the ground you walk on.

-BUT he will be kinder and a little softer.

-Maybe sometimes to the point others notice and it’s not a good look on him.

-Or at least that’s what he believes.

- “I have a reputation to keep, baby.”

-That was said behind closed doors at 3 am on the rare occassion he stayed past his bed time.

-And yes he will ignore his bedtime for you.

-One of his simping tactics.

-He will cook for you, he will pretend that he’s annoyed that you aren’t eating well enough or healthy.

-So he becomes mama Bakugou and starts cooking for you.

-Bento boxes for school, snacks while you are studying, dinner and breakfast.

-He will teach you how to cook some dishes for when he is not here and you get hungry.

- “We’re doing your favorite.”

- “Aww Katsuki, you know my favorite.”

- “Shut up dumbass and pay attention.”

-Speaks rather softly after a while, showing you how to correctly cut the ingredients and how to stir the mix without making a mess.

-He will just leen on the counter and watch you add all the ingredients with that little concentrated pout on your lips.

-His heart goes oops.

-He will be so engrossed with your beauty that you’ll have to give him a small shake when you need him.

-Pretends to enjoy what you’ve made if you messed it up somehow but will give you honest feed back and advice so you make something edible next time.

-You tend to spend the night at his dorm and he loves it.

-It’s usually on accident.

-You cuddle him while he goes to sleep and your plan is to get up and leave once you have taken your fill.

-But he is warm and oh so cuddly that you fall asleep as well.

-He wakes up around ten o’clock everytime to make sure you left and when he still feels you next to him he just lets out the most genuine smile.

-He will pull you flush to his chest *if you are not already* and take in your scent saying a little I love you before going back to sleep.

-The next morning he will wake you up before anyone else gets up and walks you to your room.

-Thankfully you are on the same floor so you don’t have to go far.

-He always walks with you to and from class no matter his mood.

-He monitors his tone when he can help it and will warn you when his mood is really awful.

-In general it’s the little things with him not grand gestures and all out simping.

Kaminari Denki

-Worships the ground you walk on.

-All out simping no shame.

-He will straight up give his soul for you.

-And he is rather proud of that fact.

-The polar opposite of Bakugou.

-And he can get on everyone’s nerves with his simping.

-Picks you up form your dorm room every morning, carries your bag to class and opens every single door you come across.

-Gives you his food if you show the slightest of interest in his meal.

- “Denki I just want a bite.”

- “I CAN GET ANOTHER ONE BABY!”

-Calm down sir....calm down.

-Has canceled game night because you had period cramps.

-The thing with that is you never actually asked him to come cuddle or something you just mentioned that you were heading to Recovery Girl for some pain killers.

-Man was waiting you at her office in -0.5 seconds.

- “I thought you were playing COD.”

- “I canceled.”

- “YOu wHAt?”

-Bakugou legit thinks you are the reason Kaminari keeps blowing them off.

-That you are some type of overly clingy girlfriend.

-DENKI IS AN OVERLY CLINGY GIRLFRIEND.

-Has gone off on a russian dude because while you were playing COD together he said something about girls being really bad at video games.

-Your man almost got banned.

-He skips class if you’re sick which is rather sweet but simultaneously really really dumb.

-Aizawa is coming fro his ass in 3....2....1.

-Boy didn’t even reach your door.

-You just heard your boyfriend’s girlish screams coming from down the hall followed by pleads of mercy.

-You were -><- this close to going out there to see what was going on but then you heard Aizawa’s monotonous voice and just went back to sleep.

-He later came over and narrated his traumatic experience.

-Poor baby just wanted to take care of you.

Todoroki Shouto

-He’s a mix of Bakugou and Denki.

-He likes being subtle and showering with affection behind closed doors but also will be at your beck and call.

-In your or his room he likes to hold you close like really really close.

-Oh you are studying?

-Will just hug you from behind.

-You are watching something on Netflix?

-Will rest his head on your shoulder.

-You do the same really because he is a very very touch starved baby and he needs more love.

-He Likes to bring you food that Fuyumi makes.

-He visits his sister on the regural so he always or almost always comes back with a small bento box with your name on it in Fuyumis delicate writing.

-Fuyumi loves you and she knows what a simp her baby brother is for you.

-In public he isn’t on Denki’s level.

-Yeah sure he will open the door for you.

-Sure he might ignore everyone else and only answer to you.

-But that doesn’t make him an immediate simp.

-No no.

-What makes him a simp is the way he treats you during free period.

-Clingy boy to the fullest.

-And a bonus, will do anything you ask.

-You are doing a project and you need to test something in extreme heats? He has laready rolled up his sleeve.

-You are thirsty from studying? He is already on his way to buy you a water bottle.

-He’s more of a protective simp.

-Considering who his father is he really gets protective over you whenever he is around.

-Also doesn’t like training with you because he doesn’t want to accidently hurt you.

-The last simp characteristic of his is drum roll......

-Your sleeping schedule.

-It’s fucked up basically.

-You tend to study until you pass out in his room and he will always carry your to your dorm unless you tell him otherwise.

-Will risk detention for being out past curfew just to get you to your room.

-I LOVE HIM!

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @bemorefiction @dnarez-mangetsu

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sankyeom · 4 years ago

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tattle-tale | l.sy

pairings: lee sangyeon x reader genre: teacher au, tooth-rotting fluff summary: in which teacher!sangyeon has a crush on teacher!you and anonymously leaves little gifts for you on your desk, only to one day be caught by your entire class word count: 5.9k series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

masterlist

You loved your job, you really did.

Teaching little kids all day long was an absolute joy for you. But if you said recess wasn’t your favourite time of the day, you’d definitely be lying. “Finally,” you groaned as you took a seat on a sofa in the teacher’s lounge, a large cup of coffee in your hand as you closed your eyes.

Sangyeon, Jacob and Hyunjae – three teachers at your school that you considered close friends – shared knowing smiles. “Rough morning?” Jacob asked.

“I love my students,” you said, eyes still closed. “But they can be little devils sometimes.”

Hyunjae burst into laughter as Jacob and Sangyeon grinned. “They can’t be that bad?”

You opened your eyes to observe your colleagues. “It’s Emma’s birthday today. She brought cake for the entire class, and they ate the entire thing within the first ten minutes of first period,” you recalled in a monotone voice.

Jacob winced. “Sugar rush?” he guessed.

“You have no idea,” you complained, having flashbacks to your students running around the classroom and causing absolute chaos. “I would literally kill for some coffee. Or at least maim.”

Hyunjae pointed at your mug. “What do you call that?” he teased.

“Terrible teacher lounge coffee that hasn’t been warm for, like, an hour,” you observed as you took a sip of your coffee. Then, you winced and pushed the mug away from you. “I may be desperate for a good caffeine fix, but I’m not that desperate,” you mumbled as you got up to toss the contents of your mug down the sink.

Sangyeon’s eyes trailed after your retreating figure, a mindless smile on his face as he observed the way you glared at your, now empty, mug in disgust as if it had betrayed you. His gaze drew towards Jacob when his colleague cleared his throat, a knowing look in his and Hyunjae’s eyes as Sangyeon gave them an innocent smile. “Are you ever going to ask her out?” Jacob asked with a lowered voice.

Although he knew he had been caught, Sangyeon still made his attempt at playing innocent. “Ask who out?”

Hyunjae rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend. You’re a really bad liar and you’re just way too obviously in love with Teacher Y/n,” he said, imitating your students when they call out to you.

Despite his best efforts, Sangyeon couldn’t hide the blush that appeared on his cheeks. As he opened his mouth to protest, you took your seat on the sofa opposite the trio, muttering to yourself about terrible coffee. Noticing the shift in atmosphere, you raised an eyebrow at your colleagues. “Did something happen while I was gone?” you wondered.

“No,” the three men chorused, which only made you more suspicious of them. With a shrug, you dismissed their odd behaviour, deciding that it was best not to pursue your curiosity. “So Y/n, did you ever find out who your secret admirer is?” Hyunjae wondered.

A small pout appeared on your lips. “No,” you sighed, clasping your hands together to rest on your knees.

For a few months now, you had been receiving little gifts on your desk when you stepped out of your classroom for your breaks or free periods. At first, they were just little things that lifted your mood in the middle of the day; sticky notes with funny faces and encouraging quotes, or small gummy and snack packets to give you energy at the end of your long day.

Then, the gifts started becoming a little more personal.

A gift certificate to your favourite coffee chain, packs of stickers or staples that you just so happened to be running out of, muffins from your favourite bakery, and even a beautiful leather-bound journal that you had mentioned you wanted to a few friends and coworkers.

You didn’t know who the gifts were from, but you desperately wanted to meet them.

Not only did they brighten your day every single time you got a new gift, but they seemed to be presents that were specifically purchased for you.

“Has anybody else been getting gifts?” you inquired.

“Not as far as I know,” Jacob denied, Hyunjae and Sangyeon humming in agreement. “Besides, aren’t the gifts all perfect for you?”

You nodded. “Most of them are things that I vaguely mentioned, or silently pined after. Sometimes they’re just little pick-me-ups like snacks, but they still seem to know my taste perfectly.”

Jacob smiled. “That’s kind of romantic,” he mused, causing Sangyeon to choke on the water he had been sipping. He coughed, leaning forward to place his mug down, and covered his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. You, Hyunjae and Jacob gave him looks of concern, which he immediately waved off.

“I’m good,” Sangyeon assured the three of you. “You-“ he coughed. “You think it’s romantic?”

“Of course!” Jacob said cheerily. “Gifts that fit her taste without ever revealing who sent them… A secret admirer. Super romantic,” he assured his friend, sending him a subtle wink when you weren’t looking.

“I just wish I could repay them somehow,” you sighed. “I feel like they make my days easier and I don’t even have a way to thank them.”

“I’m sure they’ll reveal themselves with time,” Hyunjae told you, probably in an attempt to cheer you up. “Maybe they’re just a little shy.”

“Maybe,” you echoed half-heartedly. The bell rung, indicating that recess was over and class would start again in five minutes.

“Coming?” Sangyeon asked, standing up to walk you to your classroom. Your classrooms were in the same corridor, even though Sangyeon taught fourth grade and you taught second.

You shook your head. “My kids have Gym right now, so I have a free,” you said. “I have some grading to do, so I’m just going to hang out here.”

“Not going to hunt for a better cup of coffee?” Sangyeon teased, copying the horrified face you made when you took a sip of the cold teacher’s lounge coffee.

With a laugh, you merely shook your head. “I’m too lazy to leave campus. Plus, I should probably cut down on my caffeine consumption anyway.”

“Right,” Hyunjae nodded. “I’ll remind you of that in three hours when it’s lunchtime and you’re completely worn-out from your seven-year-old students,” he said, saluting you in lieu of a goodbye. You waved to him, Jacob and Sangyeon as they left the lounge, taking out your bag to get to grading your students’ tests.

Since they were only second graders, the grading wasn’t exactly difficult, just time-consuming. By the time the bell rang to indicate Gym class had ended, you had just finished all of their maths tests. After stretching, you made your way over to your classroom so that you could be there before your students changed after Gym class.

Entering your classroom, you could already feel a bit of fatigue kicking in, and you cursed yourself for not getting a cup of coffee after all. Before you could wallow in your regret any further, you noticed the paper take-away cup on your desk. The bright blue sticky note on the cup instantly brought a smile to your face.

Don’t let the little devils wear you down too much. x

You picked the cup up, delighted that the coffee was still warm to the touch and relishing in the taste as you took a sip. “Secret admirer, you must be from heaven,” you muttered, grateful that your secret admirer had gone out of their way to make sure you were properly caffeinated.

“Teacher Y/n!” someone shouted, barreling into your classroom. Several students trailed behind, giving you similar greetings coupled with large beams.

“How was Gym?” you asked, putting your coffee down and listening to your students’ excited stories about who won the dodgeball game that day. “Well while you guys were having fun, I was working very hard to grade your math tests! Do you want to see how you did?”

Their cheers were enough for you to burst into laughter as you took their papers out of your test. “Teacher Y/n,” one of your students, Minho, raised his hand with big eyes.

The sight was absolutely adorable. “Yes, Minho?” you smiled.

“What did your secret Santa give you today?” he asked.

“Secret Santa is for Christmas time,” you corrected. “The person leaving me presents is just a nice friend,” you explained.

“Okay,” Minho nodded, eagerly absorbing your words. “What did your nice friend give you?”

“Something warm to drink,” you explained, pointing in the direction of your take-away cup before handing the seven-year-old his test back. “The teacher’s lounge has coffee but the coffee from my friend is from my favourite store.”

“Do we know your friend?” Sana, a little girl who always wore pigtails and a huge smile, asked.

“I think so,” you mused. “They work here at school.”

“Who is it?” she wondered. “Is it your boyfriend?”

You laughed. “It’s not my boyfriend,” you assured Sana. “I actually don’t know who it is yet. It’s a mystery.”

“Like Sherlock Holmes,” Minho piped up.

“Yes, like Sherlock Holmes,” you agreed.

“We can try and solve the mystery together, then!” the boy decided. “We just need to look at the clues.”

“Alright,” you allowed, having finished handing out the tests. “We can do that after we go over this test. Does anybody have any questions on the test that they didn’t understand?”

“That’s adorable,” Hyunjae laughed as you told him, Sangyeon, and Jacob about your students’ interest in your secret admirer. The four of you were sat outside at one of the picnic tables to enjoy the last few days of sunshine that autumn had to offer you. “Did they come up with anything?”

“They actually did,” you admitted. Sangyeon’s back straightened abruptly, curious about what your students figured out. “They decided that it’s definitely a teacher.”

“Really?” Sangyeon exclaimed, earning a weird look from Jacob and Hyunjae. “What makes them think that?”

“Well, I always get a little post-it note with all of my gifts,” you explained with a laugh. “And who uses post-it notes?”

“Teachers,” your three colleagues chorused.

“That’s pretty decent detective work,” Jacob complimented.

“My class certainly liked to think so,” you allowed, amused. “Anyway, my theory is that the admirer really is a teacher,” you added. “I doubt anyone other than other teachers have heard me talk about my favourite cafe, or which of my stationary is running low. I only ever talk about those kind of things in the teacher’s lounge or when I’m on lunch duty.”

“Sherlock Holmes indeed,” Hyunjae grinned, eyes crinkling at the outer corners. “Any theories on who it is?”

You sighed, shoulder drooping. “None at all,” you confessed. “Makes me feel kind of pathetic.”

“Hey, you’re not pathetic,” Jacob denied, putting his hand on your shoulder. “A little slow? Maybe. But certainly not pathetic,” you laughed, pleased at Jacob’s attempt to make you feel better.

“Teacher Y/n!” you heard Sana’s familiar voice as she ran up to you from the playground, her best friend Emma trailing after her.

“Hi girls,” you greeted. “Are you enjoying your lunch?” the two girls nodded.

“Emma, it’s your birthday today, isn’t it?” Sangyeon recalled from your rant at recess. The girl’s eyes lit up at his question, prompting her to nod her head excitedly.

“I’m turning eight,” she told him proudly.

Sangyeon beamed at her excitement, a fond look in his eyes. “Well I hope you have a wonderful birthday, Emma. You’ll have to tell me what presents you get when you come to school tomorrow,” he asked, which she immediately agreed to.

“I will, Teacher Sangyeon!” she promised.

Suddenly impatient, Sana crossed her arms. “Teacher Y/n, is Teacher Jacob your nice friend?” she wondered, pointing to where Jacob sat across from you.

“He’s a nice teacher friend, but he’s not the one who’s leaving me gifts,” you explained to the two girls. “Why do you ask?”

“We saw him touch your shoulder,” Sana explained. “We thought that meant he was your nice friend.”

“Sadly, you have the wrong guy,” Jacob said with a shrug. “But I’m going to try to help Teacher Y/n to find out who her nice teacher friend is. You guys already did a great job at helping her,” he added. Sana and Emma looked proud at the thought before they said their goodbyes, rushing off to grab the vacant swings before anybody else did.

“They’re so cute,” Hyunjae almost whined. “Why did I decide to teach sixth grade? Those kids aren’t cute anymore, they’re just savage.”

You grinned at the idea of Hyunjae being lightheartedly bullied by his twelve-year-old students. “You adore those kids, don’t lie to me,” you retorted. “And they’re still plenty cute.”

“They’re not that cute in sixth grade,” he denied, pointing in the direction Emma and Sana went. “And they don’t look at me with big, adorable eyes, or cling on to every word I say.”

“That’s just Y/n,” Sangyeon told them, smiling to himself as he dug into lunch. “My students are just two years older, and they don’t do any of those things to me.”

“You’re being modest,” you argued. “Emma looked at you like you told her she was the most special girl in the world when you remembered her birthday.”

“Maybe because it’s her birthday,” Sangyeon allowed, looking up from his food to smile at you. “But they look at you like that every single day. And it’s not just your students, either.”

His compliment made you blush.

The gifts started coming on a daily basis after the day you got a cup of coffee.

Almost every time you had a free period, a fresh cup of coffee would wait for you when you returned to your classroom, and sometimes baked treats from your favourite bakery would accompany it.

You tried staying in your classroom to see who your gift fairy was, but on days you stayed your admirer never came. It was almost as if they knew every move you were making; like they had heard it before or could somehow read your mind.

“Is one of you giving out my plans?” you questioned your colleagues one day.

Hyunjae simply raised an eyebrow at you. “Explain.”

So you did: “I feel like my secret admirer is always a step ahead of me,” you mumbled. “If I ever wait for them, they don’t show up, and if I send students ahead to wait in the classroom, they still don’t show up. I don’t know how they do it.”

“Maybe it’s one of us,” Jacob said, causing Sangyeon to send a small kick to his ankle as a warning. Hyunjae snorted, covering it up by pretending to cough. “Have you ever considered that?”

“I hadn’t, actually,” you realised absent-mindedly. “But if it was one of you guys then you’d just tell me.”

“Sure,” Hyunjae nodded. “Eventually.”

“Right,” you said, as if this was enough evidence to suggest it couldn’t be Hyunjae, Jacob, or Sangyeon. “So I’m back to square one.”

The bell rang, indicating the end of recess, and you stood up to go back to your classroom. “I love art class,” you sighed as you waved your goodbyes to Hyunjae and Jacob, and made your way to your classroom with Sangyeon. “It’s the only time they get to be rowdy and excited and I don’t have to make them calm down.”

Sangyeon laughed. “Sounds nice,” he agreed.

“What do you have next?” you asked.

“I’m free, actually,” Sangyeon said. “I always have a free after recess.”

“How come you’re always rushing off, then?” you wondered, since he had never sat with you in the teacher’s lounge during recess.

“I use it as my lesson-planning time, which I prefer to do in my classroom because I’m always forgetting little things that I need,” he admitted.

“Well you should hang out with me in the lounge some time,” you offered. “It has terrible coffee but I hear I’m pretty good company,” you joke, stopping at your classroom.

“I might take you up on that,” Sangyeon grinned, winking at you before he made his way to his classroom a few doors down.

You cursed yourself for feeling shy at his wink. Sure, Sangyeon was incredibly handsome. But you had enough to worry about with your secret admirer; you didn’t need a schoolgirl crush on one of your closest colleagues to top it all off.

You sighed. “Control yourself, Y/n,” you muttered to yourself, entering your classroom and starting to hand out the worksheets for the period.

You regretted ever saying that you loved art class.

After a sugar-filled recess, your class was more hyper than you had ever seen them and there was nothing that could be done to stop them. You had attempted multiple times to get them to listen to music or talk quietly, even going as far as to threaten them with staying on after lunch time to make up for the time lost during art class. You were about to lose your patience out of pure irritation and frustration when a knock sounded on the door of your classroom.

Sangyeon’s head popped in, a look of mild concern on his face. “Y/n, is everything okay?” he asked.

“Not really,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair in an attempt to curb your oncoming headache. “They won’t calm down. I’ve tried literally everything I can think of.”

“Mind if I give it a try?” he asked, earning an enthusiastic nod and a grateful smile from you. Sangyeon let himself in and stood at the front of the room. “Hi everyone!” he greeted loudly, causing your students to start to quiet down at the sight of a new face. “Thanks for waiting to start art class until I came,” he smiled, as if he was supposed to be there all along. “I’m Teacher Sangyeon from the fourth grade class down the hall.”

“He teaches big kids,” you heard Emma whisper to her desk mate. Cute.

“Teacher Y/n was just telling me how advanced and mature her second graders are. She even thought that I could come and teach them a little bit of fourth grade art since you’re all so far ahead,” Sangyeon complimented.

Gasps rang around the room, and you couldn’t be more grateful to him in that moment. “But you guys were pretty noisy when I came in. I’m not sure if you guys are really mature enough,” he trailed off, a look of concern on his face.

“We are!” Sana exclaimed, shushing her classmates with a stern expression. “We promise we are!”

“Well...” Sangyeon pretended to think for a moment. “If you guys can promise to be calm and good listeners, maybe I can still teach you like I teach fourth grade art. But only if you’re well behaved.”

In that moment, you were almost as entranced by Sangyeon as your students were.

Sangyeon took their silence as a promise and made his way over to your whiteboard, writing down his name and a few bullet points down. Then, he began to talk about being in the fourth grade and how different things would be from the second grade. He spoke with an air of confidence and kindness that made you realise why he became a teacher, and why all of his students loved him so much.

He was patient and informative without being condescending, and he took any questions and comments happily at any given moment. Sangyeon was definitely in his element, and it made him glow with relaxed joy.

You had always thought Sangyeon was attractive, but this was on a different level. He commanded the attention of all of your students and the way he just swooped in, giving up his entire free period to help you, made your heart swell with something akin to admiration. Sangyeon had your students giggling at his cheesy comments, and you found yourself smiling along with them, just as enchanted by him as your students were.

When he was done teaching, your students looked at him in awe and their eyes were dripping with respect and admiration. He dismissed them to lunch with your approval, and you practically leapt onto him when all your students left.

“Woah, what did I do to deserve that?” he wondered, wrapping his arms around you to return your hug nonetheless.

“Saved my class, and myself from a migraine,” you replied, sighing in relief. “Thank you, Sangyeon. Really. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate this,” you acknowledged, squeezing your eyes shut to relish in the hug. Sangyeon tightened his grip on you and sighed back, butterflies fluttering around his stomach.

Maybe he should just tell you that he’s your secret admirer, he considered.

“Of course, Y/n. You know that I’m always here if you need anything,” he said instead, pulling away from your hug to offer you a genuine smile. He wasn’t ready yet.

“I do,” you agreed with a nod. “And I can help you out anytime as well. Thank you. Let me buy you coffee or something as a proper thank you,” you offered, grabbing your bag without letting him reply.

“Not everyone is as obsessed with caffeine as you are,” Sangyeon retorted, gently nudging you with his hip to tease you.

“Hey, until they start selling it in an IV bag, I’m going to have to get my caffeine the old fashion way. C’mon, coffee shop three blocks away. My treat,” you smiled hopefully, holding up your wallet to jokingly entice him.

Sangyeon broke out into a large smile, eyes shaped like crescent moons. “I would love that,” he agreed, starting to erase his notes on the whiteboard as you clapped.

You watched him. “Your handwriting is beautiful,” you complimented, seeing the letters disappear. “I feel like I’ve seen it before,” you thought aloud, wondering why it looked so familiar.

“Really?” Sangyeon said, eyes wide as he sped up his process of erasing his lettering. “Probably in the yearbook or something.”

“Probably,” you dismissed the thought with a smile. “Now let’s go get our coffee on.”

After Sangyeon saved your art class, and your head from a brutal migraine, he started spending more time with you during your mutual free periods. Usually, you sat in silence in the teacher’s lounge as you did any grading or class prep that needed to be done, but with Sangyeon’s presence, your free periods were much more colourful and laidback.

Sangyeon had a lighthearted way about him; everything he said was assuring kind, and didn’t fail to make your heart flutter. Usually, you only ever spent time with Sangyeon when Jacob and Hyunjae were around, but being alone with Sangyeon was a different situation entirely. You had always known he was handsome and considerate, but he exuded a different kind of energy when he wasn’t surrounded by your friends.

As he sat next to you at one of the tables in the teacher’s lounge before the school day started, you couldn’t help but admire his profile; he was practically flawless. He had a long, slender nose and high cheekbones that made Sangyeon look more angular than soft. His deep brown eyes and pillow-soft lips-

“Y/n?” you snapped out of your trail of thoughts, realising that you had been blatantly staring at your coworker. Sangyeon gave you a concerned look. “You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine!” you promised, clearing your throat and adjusting your shirt to give your hands something to do. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

The bell chimed, indicating that the school day would begin soon. You and Sangyeon stood up from your chairs and started collecting your papers. “I was just saying that I can’t stay with you during my free, I have some errands to run,” he explained, giving you a wave before he ran off to grab something from his car before class started.

You rose an eyebrow. “I don’t have a free today,” you mumbled to yourself, making your way to your classroom to start your first period class.

Sangyeon grinned, lifting the flower bouquet in his hand to smell the fragrant flowers once more, relishing in their sweet scent. You had told him about a little flower shop nearby that you noticed the other day, but you couldn’t bring yourself to buy yourself flowers because it felt a little embarrassing. Since you had a free today, Sangyeon figured it would be the perfect time to buy you some flowers and give them to you.

Anonymously, of course.

As Sangyeon snuck past the teacher’s lounge, he saw your bag on one of the chairs and quickened his steps so that you wouldn’t spot him as he made his way to your classroom. Checking the hallway, Sangyeon entered your classroom as quietly as he could as to not alert any other classes of his presence.

As carefully as he could, Sangyeon closed the door behind him and let out a relieved sigh when it silently shut. Smiling, he turned around to put the flowers on your desk.

Only to be met with the little faces of your entire class.

Sangyeon’s mouth fell open in shock, his eyes widening simultaneously as he realised the situation.

“Teacher Sangyeon,” Emma exclaimed, waving excitedly at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, hi class,” Sangyeon greeted awkwardly, making his way towards your desk. “I’m just leaving Teacher Y/n a little surprise, that’s all.”

Minho gasped. “You’re her nice friend that’s leaving her presents!” he realised, pointing his little finger at Sangyeon.

Knowing he was caught, Sangyeon nodded, hurriedly pulling a blue post-it note from his shirt pocket and writing you a little message to go with your flowers. “Yes, I am. But I would really like it if you guys could keep it a secret between us?” he pleaded. “Since I know you guys are so mature and clever.”

He knew that appealing to seven-year-olds’ will to be grown up was a low blow, but he didn’t have much time before you would return to your class.

“Of course,” Sana nodded her head. “We’ll keep your secret. Teacher Y/n is looking for her bag, she’ll be back any minute now!”

Sangyeon thanked her for her warning, giving your students a little wave before he darted out of the classroom and rushed to his own.

That was close. And he was probably screwed.

“Okay class, thank you so much for being patient,” you exclaimed, entering your classroom with your bag. “I’m sorry I left you guys to grab my bag but I’m so proud of you all being so mature and understanding,” you buttered up your students, feeling guilty for running around school like a mad person trying to find your bag.

“Teacher Y/n!” Minho raised his hand as far in the air as he could. “We know who your nice friend is!”

You froze in place from where you were writing on the whiteboard, knowing exactly who he was talking about. “You do?” you echoed.

“Hey,” Sana cried out. “We’re not supposed to tell!”

That’s interesting. You knew that if whoever your secret admirer was had convinced your class to keep their identity a secret, it meant that your class trusted and respected them.

“I don’t care,” Minho retorted, crossing his arms. “We’re supposed to be Sherlock Holmes and help Teacher Y/n, remember?”

You smiled; those kids were truly too cute.

“Oh,” Sana seemed to be struggling with making up her mind. “Well, I suppose you’re right. We did promise Teacher Y/n first.”

“Was my nice friend here?” you asked, spotting the bouquet of flowers on your desk, accompanied by the usual blue post-it note you received with all your gifts.

“He was,” Minho nodded. “Teacher Sangyeon came while we were waiting for you and he brought your flowers.”

Something fluttered in your stomach, excitement at the revelation of your secret admirer making your heart pound just slightly faster. “He did?” you said, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

“And he wrote you a note with a blue post-it!” Emma added. “We were right! Your nice friend is a teacher.”

You smiled, picturing Sangyeon trying to convince your students to keep his secret. He must have snuck in because he thought I had a free period, you realised. “Well, you guys are very good detectives,” you complimented. “Just like Sherlock Holmes.”

When you dismissed your students for lunch, you couldn’t help but sit at your desk as they all filed out to admire the flowers. It was a beautiful mixture of white roses, pink peonies, and beautiful green and purple wildflowers. The post-it note must have been more rushed than usual, because it had a simple message that said he hoped you liked the flowers instead of their usual buttery, warm message of encouragement.

No wonder Sangyeon’s handwriting looked so familiar, you thought as you traced the letters on the post-it note with your pointer finger. The loops of his lettering perfectly replicated those that were written on the whiteboard when he helped you with your art class a few weeks ago.

After assigning your students their work for the last class, you couldn’t help your mind from wandering to Sangyeon, and how you should confront him about being your secret admirer. Making up your mind, you got up from your chair and plucked the flowers and post-it note from your desk before exiting your classroom and walking down the hall.

Knocking on the door of Sangyeon’s classroom, you waited patiently for him to greet you at the door. “Y/n,” his eyes lit up when he recognised that it was you. “Come in, you don’t need to knock,” Sangyeon ushered you in, opening to door for you.

“Thanks,” you smiled, stepping inside. “So, I got another gift from my admirer,” you told him, holding up the flowers. “If I can even call them an admirer.”

“Why shouldn’t they admire you,” Sangyeon said with a small shrug, moving to wipe his whiteboard.

“Say,” you began, holding up the post-it note. “This looks a lot like your handwriting.”

Sangyeon dropped the whiteboard eraser with a loud clatter, cursing quietly before apologising for the noise and going to pick it up. “Oh, um, really?” he wondered, panic rising in his chest.

“Really,” you confirmed, making your way next to him and holding up the post-it for you both to compare to the white board. “See? Your lettering is super similar,” you said, as if you didn’t already know that Sangyeon was your secret admirer.

“Huh,” Sangyeon hummed. “Weird.”

“Isn’t it?” you agreed, smiling. “These flowers are beautiful though, aren’t they?”

Feeling nervous, Sangyeon only gave you a weak smile. “As long as you think so…”

“They’re from that little flower shop I was telling you about the other day,” you told him, recognising the name of the shop on the ribbon that held the bouquet together. “Isn’t that ironic? That they got the flowers from there.”

“Well it’s only a few blocks away so I’m sure other people know about it,” Sangyeon retorted, pretending to go through the papers on his desk to act as if his heart wasn’t beating at the sound of a tuba.

“I also got coffee from my favourite cafe, pastries from my favourite bakery, and any piece of stationary that I complained to you about being low on,” you listed off the different gifts you had received.

Sangyeon opened his mouth to retort, but when he lifted his head to meet your eyes, he knew immediately that he had been caught. “You know, don’t you?” Sangyeon mumbled, red flushing the tips of his cheeks and ears.

“Minho ratted you out,” you confessed, not wanting to take credit for figuring it out.

Sangyeon laughed. “Tattle-tale,” he muttered, eyes gleaming with mischief. “So you were just having fun, teasing me as if you were figuring it all out right in front of me?”

“Hey,” you exclaimed. “I figured the handwriting thing out on my own.”

“Really?”

“No. I just connected the dots after Minho told on you,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders. Sangyeon chuckled, picturing your class telling on him as you lean back against his desk. “I’m glad it’s you,” you revealed, making Sangyeon smile shyly at you.

“How come?” he wondered.

“Well, you’re pretty cute,” you teased, earning an eye-roll from Sangyeon. “And you’re just… I don’t know. You’re really special. The way you interact with your students and how you never fail to give up your free time to help me, or keep me company…” you trailed off, noticing how a more serious expression fell across Sangyeon’s face. “Why didn’t you tell me that it’s you?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted it to be me,” Sangyeon said, tucking his hands into his pant pockets. “You’re one of the most loved teachers at this school, by the students and the faculty. You’re funny, and kind, and beautiful, and I thought you were out of reach.”

“I’m not out of reach,” you shook your head, moving closer to the brunet man. “Not at all.”

“And you’re really happy that it’s me?” he wondered.

“Hm,” you pretended to think. “Let me get back to you on that one,” you teased. “Yes Sangyeon, I’m really happy that it’s you.” Sangyeon beamed, pleased with your response. “That’s your cue.”

“My cue?” he asked.

“Yes, your cue,” you emphasised, trailing your hands up his chest to play with his tie. An understanding look filled his eyes and Sangyeon leant down to kiss you, closing his eyes as you felt each other’s breath against your faces.

The door to Sangyeon’s classroom opened noisily.

“Yo, we were just-“ Hyunjae’s shriek cut off Jacob’s words as the pair realised the position that you and Sangyeon were in.

“Guys, you can’t do that during school hours!” Hyunjae exclaimed, looking scandalised. “Jacob, I’ll cover your eyes and you cover mine,” he said dramatically, causing the two of them to flail about in an attempt to cover each other’s eyes with their hands.

You rolled your eyes, releasing Sangyeon’s tie and leaning back with a sigh. Sangyeon gave you a sheepish smile but cast your friends an exasperated look. “You guys are lame,” you accused.

Jacob laughed, releasing Hyunjae. “So you finally figured it out?”

“I wish. Some little tattle-tales told me all about it after catching him,” you motion to Sangyeon.

Hyunjae cackled. “Genius. C’mon, let’s get lunch. I’m starving,” he moved on quickly, uninterested in your new relationship with Sangyeon. “No kissing on school grounds, either. Let’s go,” he cheered, marching out with Jacob in tow.

You laughed, always amused by your coworkers and friends. “Let’s get lunch,” you agreed with Hyunjae, sending Sangyeon a smile.

As you moved away, Sangyeon caught your arm and gently pulled you back. “School hours are over in two periods,” he reminded you with a cheeky smile.

“Dinner?” you offered, earning a nod.

“I’d be crazy not to go,” Sangyeon exaggerated. “You’re paying, though. I’ve bought you enough food and drinks to last at least a few dinner dates,” he winked.

Laughing, you nodded, pulling him out of his classroom by his hand. “It’s a deal.”

note: the first fic in my 2k followers celebration event is up!! i’m so excited to see what you guys think about it, please let me know and thank you again for 2,000 followers 💛🌻

#the boyz #the boyz imagines #sangyeon #sangyeon imagines #sangyeon x reader #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #deobiwritersnet #tbznetwork #lee sangyeon #the boyz fic #the boyz fluff #the boyz au #the boyz drabbles #fic: tattle-tale #2k celebration

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calif0rnia-lovers · 4 years ago

Text

dating johnny cruz would include

a/n: it's official, this is just turning into a soft Mayans page. left out the kisses because there's a type of kisses post comin

request: can we get dating coco? mayans masterlist

rating:💙

Check out the others I’ve done so far?: Dating Angel Reyes + Dating Ezekiel Reyes + Dating Obispo Losa

✦ to Coco, love is foreign territory--he's still learning to navigate the waters

✧ for the longest time, he was never on the receiving end of it

✦ that's why his love for the club is so strong. his brothers have loved him wholeheartedly, regardless of his past mistakes--so he's given them the same love in return

✧ in the past, sex was the extent of Coco's connection with women.

✦ quick and messy, gone the moment it's done--he never promised something more, never searched for it either.

✧ but there are moments when he's with Leticia that he finds himself thinking about wanting more

✦ he knows what she's grown up with--and although she's good at putting on a tough exterior she shouldn't have to.

✧ there are moments when he wants her to know the unconditional love of a mother

✦ although he believes Leticia deserves unconditional love, Coco doesn't believe he deserves the same

✧ so he doesn't go searching for it--it's brought to him courtesy of Leticia

✦ like Coco, she's perceptive--she notices the way he looks at you and goes out her way to make sure the two of you just "happen" to run into each other

✧ Leticia Cruz a.k.a. Miss "oh shit, I just remember I gotta go meet Gabi" and bolting before either of you can object

✦ in the beginning, he'll test you--so get ready--he's used to people leaving--why not help them do it?

✧ it'll come out of the blue, the moment he starts to feel himself getting comfortable with you

✦ he'll pick a fight, say how you're wasting your time, how you deserve someone's who's not as fucked up in the head

✧ he'll leave, expecting you to be gone when he comes back--nip that shit in the bud real quick

✦ wait for him to come home--pop up at the clubhouse if you really want to get your point across

✧ let him know that you're here to stay--and not to pull a stunt like that again--he'll silently nod, eyes dropping as you place a kiss against his cheek.

✦ but he won't ever try it again.

✧ remembers the smallest of things about you, and makes a point to show interest in things you're passionate about

✦ he learns more about his daughter when you're around, and the dates the two of you plan together--he still remembers the first time she came home gushing to him about the art gallery the two of you went to while he was away

✧ Coco isn't the biggest fan of PDA--he'll dial back a lot when he's around the club--so don't take offense

✦ his PDA comes through subtle touches and kisses

✧ soft kisses against your forehead, his hand squeezing yours before he leaves

✦ kisses against your temple as you stop to wrap your arms around his waist for a quick hug

✧ behind closed doors, that's when his true affection comes out--the invasion of personal space is the first sign.

✦ his arms around your waist, lips pressing against your neck and shoulders as you shuffle through the kitchen--head in your lap as you read, or watch tv

✧ a sucker for cuddles--little spoon? meet Mr. Don't Knock It Til You Try It

✦ that shit works wonders on him when he's stressed--you can find him that way on nights when he's feeling off

✧ loves to hold you against his chest

✦ most nights when you're lying on the sofa, head against his chest he has to carry you to bed

✧ run your fingers through his hair, please--if you don't then you don't deserve johnny coco cuz

✦ always mumbles in protest, but never pulls away--lets you braid it, run your fingers through it, massage his scalp--won't come out and say it, but he's a total sucker for it

✧ midnight conversations--laying face to face

✦ his hand tracing the curve of your hip, his eyes ghosting the features of your face

✧ most of the time they're about meaningless things, sometimes they're about the past or the future you want together, the things weighing heavy on his mind

✦ these are his favorite moments--he misses them the most when he's away, so they pick up over facetime--he'll stay on till you fall asleep

✧ Coco has trouble sleeping at times--one thing he loves about the club is sometimes it runs him ragged. before you, nights, where he would come home and pass out from exhaustion, were his favorite. less time to think

✦ he has nightmares--his inner demons resurfacing--he'll fall back to sleep, head resting against your chest, arm tight around you as you place soft kisses against his forehead

✧ on nights when he's restless, you two take late-night drives--lost beneath the wind and night sky

✦ he's a little too cautious the first time he gives you a ride on his bike--grins when you tell him to go faster

✧ he's an early riser--you'll wake up to your favorite cup of coffee/tea, breakfast made.

✦ it's nothing grand, he's not a great cook, but it's a gesture to say thank you for all you do for him and Leticia

✧ "hey, got you something." -- he's famous for pulling a gift for you out of his kutte pocket. they're never big or planned. they're often things that make him think of you when he's on a club run.

✦ date nights are nothing fancy--it's time for you two to unwind--alone time is what he's shooting for

✧ 80 percent of the time he'll bring Leticia along

✦ hickeys left against his skin as you two lay in the sunlight creeping through the living room window

✧ comfortable silence--that's how he knew you were the one, he knows hard it is to find someone you can simply be alone with

✦ pictures snapped--Coco has learned the importance of seeing the beauty in the world, he believes it can often be captured by a lens

✧ he often takes pictures of you--you beneath the sunlight, smiling while you whisper over ice cream with Leticia, you lying beneath the sheets on a lazy Saturday morning

✦ unplanned surprise but strategically planned on his part weekend getaways

✧ teaches you how to play pool, just so he can watch you kick everyone's asses

✦ you and Leticia convincing him it's not a safety hazard to take you both to target practice

✧ bike lessons--has a way of making you feel as though no matter many times you mess up, you're still doing a great job

✦ him respecting--and being thankful--for your girl time with Leticia. he knows there are just something's she'll never come to him for

✧ he makes a point to be there when you ask him to be home for dinner--he's trying to build family traditions

*as always, let me know if you want to be added/removed from tags*

all stories tags: @wiccanmetallicrose @themarkblues @gemini0410 @binooo98 @the-jer-bear @abbiesthings @trhett21 @trulysuccubus @leahnicole1219 @starrynite7114 @awkwardtayler @toni9 @queenbeered @kaystacks17 @thesandbeneathmytoes @richonne4life @cocotheclown @oscars-wifeyyy @jennisdirtyimagines @ughdontbeboring @myakai13 @linziland13 @sadeyesgf @brattyfics @sincerelykas @ladyofsoa @pearlkitten33 @tian-monique @megapeacelovemusic-blog

mayans tags:

@appropriate-writers-name @rosieposie0624 @jjwriter23 @briskywalker @princesspeachypeach @cind-in-real-life @rocketqueen @brownsugarcoffy @chibsytelford @maybeisthemoon @jatriciaaa @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @chellybear98 @silverstarsandsuns @henrycavill19 @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @mayansxlover @holl2712 @pedropcl

@inyourbackpocketisbutterflies

#let me know what you think?#coco cruz imagine #coco cruz x reader #mayans mc headcanons #mayans mc imagine

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t0wnspersonb · 4 years ago

Text

Fallin in Love (Akaashi Keiji x Reader)

Anonymous said:

hello 😬 if ur taking requests rn, can i request akaashi who is in love with a nekoma manager since first yr and every training camp he tries flirts with her being the calm and confident king he is, but girl is too shy and she kinda clumsy

~~~~

Word Count: 2,048

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I love Akaashi with all my fucking heart😭😭😭 He will forever be one of my best boys. I hope I was able to write this how you wanted anon! Sorry for my shit writing lmao.

I’m slowly working my way through my requests while also working on some more content for you guys so stay tuned!

As always, please let me know what you think and I hope you guys have a good weekend!😘😘😘

~~~~

A soft smile twitched at Akaashi’s lips as he stared at you frantically apologizing to Yamamoto who was waving you off in a panic as well.

You had bumped into him, causing all the volleyballs in his arms to fall to the floor, bouncing away.

It was all accidental, an easy mistake that could be fixed, but the absolute horror and panic on your face made it seem like you had shot someone.

But it was just how you were. Similar to a squeaky, frantic mouse; incredibly cute and small; it was endearing.

You were endearing.

So despite how annoying training camps were; between Bokuto and Kuroo, and the endless practice matches, there was one thing - well one person - that he was looking forward to.

And that was you. He met you last year, at the annual training camp with all the powerhouse schools in Tokyo.

Looking back at it now, you were still just as shy and clumsy as you were now, maybe even more so back then. But you were still incredibly cute, incredibly beautiful, and sweet, that never changed.

His infatuation with you never changed either. You were quiet, something he had immediately gravitated to when you were introduced to the rest of the teams as the new Nekoma manager.

But when he started to get to know you, well, he couldn’t help the feelings that began to bubble up in his chest.

He had started his quiet pursuit as soon as he realized his feelings; quiet because he didn’t want Kuroo or Bokuto making any unnecessary ruckus about it, and he didn’t want to startle you.

Although, his gentle flirting never seemed to register in your brain.

He had some hope though, considering that you were clumsier when you were around him, extremely nervous and red-faced when he talked to you.

Like now.

“How were your exams Y/n-san?” Akaashi asked politely, sharp eyes holding nothing but interest as he gazed at you.

“They went f-f-fine. I th-think… I c-could’ve done better a-at th-the mathematics.” You stuttered out, eyes glancing away from him as you fumbled about with the ball in your hands. “What about y-you, Akaashi-san?”

Akaashi took in the way your brows furrowed, your lips unconsciously quirking into a small pout at whatever it was you were thinking about with the exams. A soft smile began to coat his face, you were just far too perfect.

“They went fine. I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be either Y/n-san, you’re very smart and pretty, I’m sure you did fine.” he said easily, watching in amusement as your face slowly began turning bright red.

Did he… did he call you pretty?

He did. He definitely did, and so smoothly too…

“I’ll see you around, don’t work too hard.” he said, long fingers reaching out to touch your elbow gently before running off to his teammates.

You watched his retreating back, blinking slowly before your hands came up to rest against your burning cheeks.

“Oi, Y/n-chan! What are you spacing out for? We need to finish cleaning up.” Kuroo called out, grabbing the ball that dropped from your hands.

“S-Sorry senpai!” you squeaked out, rushing off to help the team, stumbling about, causing Yaku to yell at you to be more careful.

****

“Hey, Y/n-chan, we have a question for you.” Suzumeda said, sitting down next to you in the managers room, Shirofuku trailing behind her with a bag of chips in hand.

You looked at her in curiosity, setting down the book in your hands. “Y-Yes?”

You were entirely familiar with the two managers of Fukurodani, considering the endless practice matches your two teams participated in together. They were incredibly kind, but from the look in Suzumeda eyes, well you knew that they were plotting something.

“Do you like Akaashi?”

Your expression must’ve been something entirely amusing because the two girls began giggling.

“W-Why would you ask me that!?” You asked in embarrassment.

“You guys are always staring at each other or talking with each other.” Shirofuku mused, tossing more chips into her mouth.

“You’re mistaken, Akaashi-san is just a friend.” you said quietly.

The two girls shared a pointed look before directing their gaze back to you.

“Well how do you feel about our setter?” Shirofuku pressed on.

That’s right, how did you feel?

You had always thought that Akaashi was incredibly kind and talented, his intelligence was almost intimidating to you, those calculating eyes were just as beautiful as they were dangerous. That was another thing, Akaashi was quite possibly the most beautiful person you had ever met.

His dark hair was perfectly tousled and looked incredibly soft, there were moments where you wondered if it was soft. There were moments where you noticed him fidgeting with his fingers and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to hold his hand…

Oh.

Maybe… maybe you did like him.

“E-Even if I d-did like him, he w-wouldn’t l-like me back.” you mumbled, picking up your book once again, signaling that you no longer wanted to talk about this any longer.

You hadn’t noticed the sly grins that coated their faces as they called goodnight towards you before leaving the room.

That’s right, even if you had feelings for Akaashi that didn’t mean that he would return them.

Right?

****

“Good morning Y/n-san.” Akaashi greeted softly, one of his hands running through his damp hair.

You were passing by the bathrooms, on your way to the cafeteria to help prepare breakfast with the other managers when you had almost run into the said male.

“G-Good morning Akaashi-san.” you said quietly.

A half-smile twitched onto his lips, before he titled his head to the side in curiosity. His hand reached out, gently grabbing at the hair that was draped over your shoulders. You could feel the gentle brush of his fingertips against the side of your neck as he brushed the hair off your shoulders.

“I’ve never seen you with your hair down before… it looks good.” he said quietly, those sharp blue eyes seemed to stare straight into your heart, analyzing you completely.

Which was why his hand rested softly on your shoulder, carefully trailing down your arm and gently grasping at your elbow, squeezing softly before releasing you completely. A teasing smile grazing his lips as he took in your flushed, nervous form.

Akaashi knew he was toeing the line of boundaries, but he wanted to test the waters, and seeing how you reacted to his touch and his compliment… maybe he needed to be a bit bolder.

You could feel his lingering touch, goosebumps erupting over your body, and you had to resist the strong urge to shiver, heat lingering over where he had touched you.

“T-Thank you Akaashi-san! I’ll see you at breakfast!” You squeaked, running off, stumbling over your own feet as you ran towards the cafeteria.

A soft laugh escaped his lips as he watched your retreating figure, his head shaking. He would definitely have to step up his game if he wanted to get his feelings across.

****

Akaashi’s gentle touches seemed to escalate the longer the training camp went on, they were subtle touches, no one even noticing the newfound attention you were receiving. Akaashi planned it that way, he already knew that his managers suspected something from the way they would smirk at him, but the rest of his teammates were oblivious.

That was the last thing he needed in his pursuit of you.

They would surely scare you off if they knew.

There were times where he felt a bit guilty at his lingering touches, he had never seen someone turn so red before, but he couldn’t help it.

Of course, he enjoyed the gentle interactions, the soft touches, he was a man after all, but there was so much that he could take.

His obvious flirting seemed to go over your head, and maybe his touches were beginning to as well.

All you knew was that you were going to die if he kept this up. Your poor heart couldn’t handle it any longer either.

“- the cafeteria will be closing soon.” Shirofuku mused as you guys stopped in front of gymnasium 3.

The boys immediately stopped what they were doing running off towards the cafeteria, hollering at one another.

This seemed to be routine in the last couple of days, only this time, you were with the Fukurodani managers.

“Are you coming to the baths Y/n-chan?” Suzumeda asked, pausing when she realized you weren’t walking with them anymore.

“Umm… in a bit. I’m going to h-help Akaashi-san clean up.” you said nervously, bowing to the two girls before entering the gym.

“D-Do you need help?” you stuttered out, making your presence known to the dark-haired male.

He stood up from where he was picking up the balls, a surprised look crossing his features before something soft and gentle melted across.

“If you want to.” he said quietly, watching your form as you began gathering the rest of the balls up, bumping them into the bin easily.

“It’ll get down f-faster with t-two people.” You said, tone soft.

The rest of the cleanup was filled with a comfortable silence, lingering touches being shared every now and then.

You were in the storage room now, your hands resting on the edge of the ball cart, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you started to become lost in thought.

Your heart was definitely racing, this was possibly the longest time you’ve ever spent alone with Akaashi.

Did he… did he like you?

He was just being kind, there was no way that he would be interested in clumsy little you.

“Y/n-san?” his soft voice caused you to flail about in surprise; not only did you fall to the floor but the mop and broom were knocked over, causing Akaashi to rush to grab them before they toppled over your form that was now sitting on the floor.

You blinked up at him.

Akaashi stared at you in worry, squatting down in front of you. “Did you get hurt? I didn’t mean to startle you, I’m sorry.” he said frowning, elegant fingers reaching out to brush the hair out of your face.

“I’m f-fine. Y-You don’t need to a-apologize.” You said sweetly, although your face was incredibly red.

Silence fell over you once again, but somehow the room seemed thick with something…. Tension? You weren’t entirely sure. But the room buzzed and felt heavy around the two of you.

You were hyper aware of his close proximity, you could feel his body heat radiating into yours, the scent of his laundry detergent wafting into your nose along with the smell of sweat, and something incredibly delicious.

Was that… was that cologne?

Your stomach twisted pleasantly, he was so close, way too close.

“Y/n-san.” He murmured your name softly, his hand coming up to rest against the side of your face, gently sliding down to cup you along your jaw.

Akaashi was suddenly shifting closer to you.

“I like you.” he whispered, his lips brushing softly against your own before carefully pressing down against yours.

A surprised noise escaped your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut. Immediately your hands reached out for him, gently resting against the base of his neck, feeling the soft tickle of sweat against the palms of your hands, before sliding up into his sweat dampened hair and… oh. His hair was incredibly soft. Your fingers easily tangle into the hairs behind his head.

The kiss deepened from this movement.

Akaashi was everywhere. His touch, his taste, his smell, it was overwhelming. His lips moved carefully against your own, soft and warm, his tongue poking through your lips every now and then, his teeth gently biting into your lower lip.

Your heart was going to explode, could you die from a kiss? Maybe you would be the first person to experience that.

You were sure of it, especially when he pulled you closer, his other hand resting on your shoulder, tugging you closer between his legs.

Would he give you more?

You definitely wanted more.

You definitely wanted -

“Akaashi! What are you doing!?”

“Oi! Get off my manager!”

Forget dying from a kiss, you would surely die from embarrassment.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfics #akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji x you #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi fluff #akaashi imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #reader insert #request #akaashi request

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moondustis · 4 years ago

Text

on the way (m)

pairing: seo johnny + reader genre: angst, smut | word count: 10k summary: “There’s a few ways you could tell this story. The tale of how you met one Seo Johnny, and how it all went down. But maybe there's no better way to do it than from the beginning.” or A love story told in 5 acts.

a/n: hello! yes, finally a new fic and yes it is college!au with a hint of fwb. i have been writing this for around 4 months now and i haven’t read some parts in awhile so it’s probably all around the place. if something doesn’t make a lot of sense, well... it is what it is lol. but yeah, hope you guys enjoy it!

act 1: messy affairs

See, there’s a few ways you could tell this story. The tale of how you met one Seo Johnny, and how it all went down. But maybe there's no better way to do it than from the beginning.

It’s a friday night, just like any other that happens after a mixture of weekly stress and the weird need to let it all out. It’s common, routine even, how you apply your makeup, pick your best outfit and scroll mindlessly through tinder in wait for your friends to arrive for a pre-game. It's common but not that usual, at least not until recently.

Your last year of college had brought a lot of feelings that you didn't think you were ready to deal with yet. A nostalgia that arrived too soon, when you would catch yourself thinking that a moment shared with roommates would be the last one. An uncertainty of the future and a constant stress between writing a thesis that somehow is supposed to summarize the entirety of the knowledge you had gotten in the last year.

And lastly, the reason why you're doing this: the unwavering fear that your life is just about to start. The same feeling you got when college just started, of freedom and new beginnings. But now, instead of the excitement and thrill, it's replaced by anxiety and the heavy weight of adulthood about to start. That's why you look into the mirror, again, applying your lip gloss with the screen of your phone still illuminated by a picture of a person just waiting to be swiped left or right. You just need to have fun, like you never will again.

It's that a too harsh way to start this? Well, back to Seo Johnny.

It's a friday night and your friends arrive, flavored vodka in hand, the cheap kind that tastes like it's not alcoholic at all. A shot for each and then you are all laughing and joking to pass time.

"Why do we have to pre game? I'm sure there will be plenty to drink." Sarah, a blonde girl with friendly cheeks asks. She tips the shot on her hand back anyway, despite the question.

"Hell no I'm not going to drink frat booze again, they are cheap." Ela, tall and smart and majoring is Social Politics, says.

You hum and Sarah asks "And we are not?"

"No, we have our dear friend making us drinks." Ela gestures wildly at Nicole, the bartender of the night who's wearing a dress that only battles your own in the matters of shortness. "We are fancy."

"She's mixing vodka with sprite." These statements make you laugh loudly.

Tinder is just a distraction as you all sit on the couch, a good way to find an easy date for the night and when the he in question shows up, a black and white picture on the illuminated screen of your phone, it earns a shriek from your friends that go on and on about how hot he looks.

"You should swipe right." Ela says, eyebrows dancing but you don't see it because you're busy rolling your eyes at your phone. Johnny stares at you.

"He's my friend." You say as if it's obvious but it's really not. The word friend feels a little weird in your mouth but how else could you describe it? College was good for you in the social aspect, you have a lot of friends, people you talk to in class, or that you meet at parties because you ran in the same circles. It usually doesn't go deeper than that, than a blunt shared or a joke about a teacher, but that's friendship anyway you conclude.

And Johnny , well, he was someone you knew, not well, but sometimes he would text you a joke that made you laugh, ask for help with an assignment, talk to you about anything during a party. He was fun, a friend, and an acquaintance. Whatever, that didn't matter and honestly neither did the way you met, through a mutual friend at a kickback. It was that and nothing more.

"Please, he flirts with you every chance he gets." Ela rolls her eyes right back at you.

"He flirts with anyone, I think." You argue, because it's true. Johnny is one of those people that just have this aura to them, that can make anyone interested with just a few words. He's naturally flirty, that's something easy to point out.

"Well he's hot." That too.

"True." Nicole says and it earns a deep sigh from you.

Acting on impulse or peer pressure, you don't know exactly, but you swipe right and then nothing happens. So you shrug and throw your phone away to down another shot.

✿

When you get to the party, it's already absolutely trashed, with freshmen spilling their drinks on the floor as some annoying EDM song blasts loud enough that you’re not very sure the thin windows of this house can handle. Frat parties were always the same, mildly boring and filled with people that didn't know how to act. It often escaped you the reasons why you continued to attend them.

You and your friends dance a little, laughing when the songs change to one that is even worse than the first one. Ela, despite her words from earlier, finds a bottle of vodka and proclaims loudly that a night can never end badly when it starts with shots, a statement you strongly disagree with but you down it anyway when she offers it and then another one just for good measure. Because it’s a friday, you deserve a little fun, right? Right.

Too tired of dancing you had found a place on a couch that was probably too old. Johnny finds you there when the shots just start to hit and you feel bubbly, like you're on a cloud.

"Hey there." He says with a blinding smile and if you weren't out of it you'd probably find it weird that he came to you, because most of the time you talked at parties was because you somehow ended up bumping into each other.

"Hi." You reply, elongating the word more than necessary and it seems to amuse him.

"Why are you sitting here by yourself?" He asks.

"Don't feel like dancing anymore." You say shrugging. "And what are you doing here sitting with me?"

You watch as he laughs slowly and fishes for his phone in his pocket. "See, I wanted to show you something."

It’s endearing, really, even more when his hand starts to wander, fingers barely ghosting your skin as he keeps his gaze glued to your face.

He kisses you deeply, head tilted to the side as he holds you close with both hands on your cheeks and you can’t do anything but let him take control. Is when he sucks on your bottom lip that you have to let out the moan you had been holding, embarrassingly too soon and only urging him on even more as he licks at your lips, asking for entrance that you so gladly give, letting his tongue slide against yours slowly. The feeling of his hands moving to your leg makes your head spin and want for more.

He kisses the breath out of you, quite literally, and you both have to part to catch it back with silly smiles, gasps of air and pecks still being pressed on your lips.

In your drunken haze, you smile when he rests his palm on your naked thigh, squeezing just slightly to test your interest. And you’re crazy, absolutely out of your mind because you show it by parting your legs just a little, just to tease, the smile never leaving your face as he mimics it with a subtle raise of his eyebrow.

And god forgive you for being such a stupid horny girl that just falls gives in so easily, taking Johnny’s wandering hand in yours and dragging him to the closest place you can find, which happens to be someone's bedroom. How nice and polite of you.

There’s not much beating around the bush. He pushes you into the bed, hovering over you and finally kisses you again, with hunger, hands on your neck and tongue sliding against yours in movements that are not shy from being desperate. And you love it, enough to have your mind swimming with the need to have him touch you anywhere that will make you feel good.

When you grip at his hair a little too harshly, he lets out a moan that goes straight to the bubble of arousal on the pit of your stomach. He’s a sight, with puffy lips and hair a mess as he drops to his knees in front of you, something you weren’t exactly expecting but will definitely not complain about.

He looks up at you, hands moving to rest at your thighs and oh, so gently parting them so he can fit in between. “Can I?” You almost die at the voice he asks for your consent in.

You nod, head spinning a little when you move to help him get yours panties off, the offending cotton fabric being thrown somewhere inside this poor person's bedroom.

A couple of things happen afterwards. Johnny parts your legs further, placing a misplaced kiss on your inner thigh. Then he goes for it with a tentative lick, as if testing the waters and just slightly as if he’s a little unsure of himself. You blink slowly in expectation.

“How do you like it?” The question makes you confused until you realize that he’s teasing you, a grin splattered across his face when you groan and try to move your hips but he keeps a grip on your legs.

“Asshole.” You mutter in what sounds more like a whine.

Which is a complete lie, because you’re already shivering in your skin and he knows that by the raise of his eyebrow in defiance. But still, your words spark something and he finally goes for it.

The first press of his tongue flat against you has your hands moving to grip at the bed sheets. He works in a pace that clearly shows that he knows what he’s doing, swirling his tongue a little to tease and then licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit to gather the wetness there.

He kisses your cunt the exact same way he did your lips, messily and desperate with the squelchy noises filling the room and setting your cheeks in heat from embarrassment. You don’t even need the long fingers he adds, slowly and then matching the pace of his sucks.

It’s a very quick orgasm, in the sense that it doesn’t take you half the time you thought it would to happen. He does a little thing with his tongue, flicking your clit and you’re crying out with your body arching from the bed as he continues to eat you out as your body trembles.

“Was I good?” He asks afterwards, words muffled because he’s still pressed against your bare center. He’s grinning, you can see it as well as the wetness that drips on his chin.

You don't reply, instead you push him upwards and kiss him again, tasting yourself on his tongue. You can feel his erection press against your hip when he brings you closer and it makes you want more.

He breaks the kiss then, palm comes to rest on your cheek, thumb on the other side of your face as he keeps you looking at him. He likes being in control, you have realized that even in this short interaction, and you apparently liked giving it to him.

You shiver when he brushes his thumb on your lips, getting them to part for him. “There you go, open your mouth.” He whispers, eyes glued to it. “Be good."

Parting your lips, you lick at his thumb before you’re sucking it, earning a grunt from him that almost makes you smirk. You put on a show, trying to get him as worked up as you are, your eyes not leaving his face.

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” He mutters, pressing his thumb on your tongue and you moan a little over it. “You want my cock on your mouth?”

You nod, smiling as he removes his wet finger from your mouth. “Yes.” Your voice is breathless, eyes glassy as you stare at him.

That earns you a smile and you feel a little pride in your chest. “That’s a good girl.” He taps your face. “Get on your knees then, baby. If you want it so bad.”

You do, positioning yourself in the middle of his parted thighs when he sits down on the bed and your mouth almost waters from anticipation.

Lifting his shirt a bit, you start by pressing kisses to his navel and he lets out a deep breath. Reaching down to unbutton his pants, you help him pull them down alongside his boxers and the sight of him hard for you is what really makes your mouth water. He's big in a way that you're sure you won't be able to fit it all inside without putting in some work.

You tease him just a little bit, placing just the small kiss at the tip before licking it slowly. He’s far less patient then you are, hand immediately moving to grip your hair. “Put it in, baby, don’t be bad for me now.”

Parting your lips, you put him in your mouth, going as far as you can go, wrapping your hand on what you can’t reach. He moans lowly, curses falling from his lips.

He lets his head fall back when you swirl your tongue around, bobbing your head slowly the way he likes. “That’s it, baby. Takin’ me so well.” You hum around him, earning yourself another moan.

You try to get him as far as you can, swallowing when you reach your limit and he grips your hair tighter. You can feel him pulsing inside your mouth and it makes you squeeze your thighs together.

He comes on your face, painting your cheeks and making you gasp a little in shock. "Fuck, I'm sorry." He mumbles, quick to search for something to clean you up with.

"It 's okay." You say, throat feeling sore and you try not to think about how that was the first time that ever happened for too long. "I liked it."

That makes him give you a look, and then he's saying with a laugh "You'll be the death of me."

act 2: ungodly hour

Maybe the fact that nothing really changes should be a sign by itself.

Johnny still nods to you when you pass by him around campus, and still asks you to ‘help a guy out’ by sending him pictures of your notes like you guys are nothing but good almost-friends. Because, well, that’s what you are and that’s good enough for you.

His face stays there on your tinder matches, no acknowledgement of it beyond his stupid joke back at the party happens and the only reminder you have of that night is the insatiable thoughts that cross your mind in the middle of a boring lecture. Because why would you pay attention to whatever your teacher is saying when you could remind bit by bit of how Johnny fucked you on his tiny dorm room, while maintaining a resting face.

Weirdly those memories don't hit you the next time you see him, because you’re too busy thinking about strawberry milkshake.

The line behind you is not even that big, considering it’s 3am and most drunk college kids prefer to go to the burger king, but the cashier has an annoyed look on his face as your friend slowly reads the menu as if there’s plenty to choose from at a place like Mcdonalds. “Hmm, we’ll have two large fries, a coke and...”

“A strawberry milkshake!” You try to go for whispering but it comes out louder and the cashier just hums.

There's just something about being slightly shit faced at this hour and at this place, that makes it all seem like it's not actually happening. Like you are in a dream that only gets better when the server calls your number and you are sipping on the milkshake you kept on talking about since leaving the club you went on.

Funnily enough, if this was in fact in a dream, it wouldn't be the first time Johnny showed up on one of yours.

He's sitting in a booth by himself, scrolling at his phone. His hair is pushed back by a snapback and your mind twirls for a second with the thought that he looks too good for someone who's here in an hour like this.

Maybe it's the remnants of alcohol still buzzing on your system. Or maybe it is the fact that you seem to have been losing your self consciousness more and more these days. Whatever it is, it leads you to the stand in front of Johnny with a smile on your face and your hand freezing from holding the milkshake.

It doesn't take long for him to notice you, a smile that makes you feel warm inside ready on his lips as you take a place right across from him like it was meant for you all this time.

"Hey there." He says, voice playful and you wonder if he had a few drinks himself before coming here. He must have had. "What's up?"

You shrug, a smile painting your own lips. "Nothing much." You say and for some reason you feel silly, in a way that makes you want to scream a little from excitement. Like a teenage girl with a crush. "Strawberry milkshake. You want some?"

Johnny laughs a little when you offer him the cup with the slightly bitten straw. "No, thank you. But it looks good."

"It is." You smile with lips closed around it.

For a moment, but not an uncomfortable one, you two just stare at each other. The sweet taste of your drinks fills your mind and makes you feel a little less dizzier.

"Had fun night?"

"Hmm, not really. Sorority parties suck." He nods in agreement. Most parties sucked anyway, that's why everyone had to get so wasted to be able to enjoy it while the high lasted. You liked feeling pretty after getting ready more than the whole rest of it. "What were you up to?"

"Got to DJ at this party with Mark, it was nice." He says it like it was no big deal, like it was something he did every other day. You had never actually seen Johnny play before, but from the way his instagram page was filled with posts about it and links to soundcloud songs, anyone could figure out it was at least a bit important to him.

You found it weird, that you didn't know much about this or anything else about Johnny besides what he would let you know. And vice versa. But at the same time it's nice getting to know it bit by bit, without a rush.

"That's really cool." Your voice is a little more excited than you expected it to be. "I really wanna see you play someday."

"Sure." He smiles sideways. Bashfulness doesn't really suit him. "I'll let you know the next time."

You nod, then you share a look. Someone screams at their friend about something you don't really care about because you're too busy watching Johnny as he watches you finish your milkshake. Is it chemistry that people call this? Because there is nothing very appealing about the drink you're having, or about the white light at this place, but there's tension in the way you can't really look away.

He looks like he wants to laugh but is too scared to break whatever is happening. You finish your milkshake with one last swallow of artificial sweetener and lick your lips. He finally breaks.

"Stop looking at me like that." He says it in a way that suggests something that it's already as clear as water.

You bat your eyelashes. "Like what exactly?"

He laughs, sweet and deep, then raises one eyebrow in challenge. "Like you want me to fuck you in the middle of this mcdonalds."

The scandalousness of the statement makes you laugh too, your words sounding half joke half true between smiles. "Well, maybe I want to."

"You don't really strike me as the type." He says it like he's unsure of it, like in the back of his mind he could actually believe you would do something as shocking as that. Truth be told, you don't even know it yourself. There's not a lot you have done when it comes to this and sometimes you even think back to him coming on your face, like it is the wildest thing that has ever happened.

"I could be." He raises his eyebrow again, this time not as a challenge but as genuine curiosity. You would like to know whether that is true or false as well.

Deep down you know that there are not many things you wouldn't let a guy like Johnny do to you.

He laughs, then pauses for a second and taps his fingers on the table as if looking for something to say. "You should let me take you out someday." Is what he decides on.

For some reason you don't think much of that at the moment. "You gotta take someone out before fucking them in public place?" You continue the joke, earning a low laugh and a head shake.

"I'm being serious."

How serious can someone really be at 4am with some alcohol on their system. This time you are the one raising your eyebrows, in pure doubt. He doesn't seem like the type who dates girls they fucked at a party once, or the type who dates girls like you. But thinking about it you don't really know what type of person Johnny is. Or what kind of girl you really are.

You click your teeth before smiling. "We'll see about that."

act 2: la petit mort

It’s not a text you get but instead a facebook invitation. It makes you laugh because men are truly all the same. Liking an old instagram picture, reacting with an emoji to something you post on stories. Never a message being straightforward, it’s like they are all physically incapable of that. You wonder if it’s because of fearing rejection.

See, dating it's not really your thing, never has been and the proof can be found in your few failed attempts. It just made you nervous, constantly on edge because it always involved a lot of confusing moments, of not knowing where it's going or what the other person is thinking. People are usually bad at the most important thing when it comes to this, communication. And you hated to be either on the side of conflict or of creating expectations too early.

But Johnny, well, he has got you interested. In a way that’s dangerous because it doesn’t happen very often, at least not with someone who seems interested as well or even the slightest bit possible.

And danger is not your area of expertise, not as of lately, but still you click on the green button and when saturday comes you’re walking inside a very underground party outside of campus.

You know it's the right place because there's some people outside smoking and the door is slightly open. You walk inside the two floor flat, the small bottle of wine you had brought shaking a little in your bag while you pass some people.

There's music playing but the sound of conversations is louder than that. The scent filling the room is undeniably familiar and it makes you wonder if there's a least one sober person in the room at the moment. You had been to parties like this before, not nearly as loud as the ones that happened on campus and with a lot less people. An amount that by the end of the night will have shrunk and the ones left will gather around the very old looking couch, share one last blunt and say unnecessary deep things and profess their deep affections for each other.

They were fun parties.

You don't talk to anyone because no one really attempts to talk to you first. That's just how you worked, social interactions never came as easy as it seemed to other people. You usually waited for people to approach and if they were nice you would cling to them. Sometimes you even practiced smiling in the foggy mirror after you showered. You practiced saying an icebreaker, smiling fakely after it, but you never really put it in practice.

You see Johnny before he sees you, surrounded by two boys that look particularly close. He looks effortlessly good, like he always does, with a black sweatshirt and light blue jeans. It makes you want to go there and hold his hand, lean against his chest, feel him loom above you and then kiss him in front of everyone as if it was normal, as if it meant nothing. You got this feeling a lot.

When he sees you he smiles big and makes his way to you with long and quick steps that don't take longer than three blinks from you.

"I thought you were going to DJ tonight." You say when he reaches you holding a bottle of beer.

He shrugs, standing very close to you now. "Nah, this is not that kind of party."

His eyes stay glued to you and you fight the urge to fix your hair. You wonder if he thinks you look good on the dress you chose.

"Hmm, it's not the kind of party I thought I would ever see you on." You point out, looking around as someone screams asking for them to play some song by an artist you don't know.

"To be honest this is much more my scene." He explains and this small piece of information he gives you about what he's really like makes you feel giddy for some reason. "The only reason I go to frat parties is because of Jaehyun."

Jaehyun was a dude that played on the football team and looked too good for his own good. Him and Johnny were always together, like they would break if someone separated them. "So that's who you got this weird frat boy aura you got from."

He laughs loudly. "Sure. But what about you? What's your scene?"

You pretend to think for a while. "I don't really know. I like very specific things that I only know I'm actually enjoying at the moment." It's a pretentious reply that you hope he finds funny.

He seems amused by it. "So, a moment type of girl."

He takes a sip of his beer and you take that moment to get the bottle of wine out of your bag. He laughs at it, as if the thought of you carrying wine around is very funny to him.

"Sure." You take a sip of your own. "You seem very keen on figuring out what kind of girl I am."

You enhance your question by raising your eyebrows as he starts leading you to a small empty couch. "Well, you're mysterious so I got to work with what I get." He says while sitting down and you follow, laughing because the last thing you would consider yourself is mysterious in any way.

"Trust me, you would get a lot more information if you just asked."

He nods, doing a whole scene of thinking of something to ask. "Ok then, why psychology?"

You almost laugh at the question because does anyone actually know why they chose their major? "I guess I like that the mind is the only thing that can understand itself." You say it in a pompous way so he knows you are not really that serious about that. "What about you? Why did you choose business?"

He looks forwards and moves as if to get more comfortable on the couch. It makes him get closer to you and your legs touch. "I don't know. Money, status, easier to get a job later on."

That makes you snort. "I don't think right now getting a job is easy in any area." You pause to drink some and then say, "You don't seem like someone who cares about those things, anyway."

He laughs just a little. "My parents do."

By his voice you can tell he doesn't really want to talk about that. Not right now at least.

"Well, at least when you are a famous dj the gossip magazines will be able to mention that you got a business degree you never used."

He leans into you when he laughs.

✿

The rest of the party is fun. You meet some of Johnny's friends that are too high to keep an actual conversation but are fun enough that you have a good time.

Johnny makes you laugh a lot and by the time you finish your wine you feel more drunk in his presence than on the alcohol itself.

There’s just something about Johnny’s presence that makes your legs go a little weak and your heart beat just a little faster, like you have a silly crush. He’s just funny, in a way that comes natural to him, and he makes you feel special, seeming interested in the things you say in a way that has your heart swoon. And on top of all that, like he couldn’t get any more perfect, he’s a whole 6’0 of man, all broad shoulders and always looking down at you with cute smiles.

It doesn't take you two long to reach his dorm, or for you to get on his bed. And when it’s like this, with him hovering over you, thrusting into you in a pace that has you seeing stars, the effect he has on you becomes painfully obvious.

It’s kind of embarrassing, really, how having him on top of you makes you feel so small and safe. How him hitting so deep inside when he gives you a sharp movement of his hips turns your inside into jelly. And all you can do in return is look up at him with glossy eyes and parted lips.

“God, I dreamed of fucking you.” He knows what he’s doing. Even worse, knows how to get to you with just a few words. “Do you like it, baby?” He asks, voice hoarse and lips turning into a barely not there smirk.

“Huh?” Is what you can reply with because you’re way out of it to make sense of his words. It just makes his smirk grow wider, hands moving to grip at your thighs so he can get your legs to open wider.

When he fucks into you faster, his cock hitting the spot that has you absolutely and completely losing your mind, he tries again. “Do you like how — Fuck— How big I feel?” His words are barely a groan from being just affected as you are. He sounds cocky but in a way that makes your eyes cross.

And you nod, enthusiastically so, because you do. It makes you shy, saying it out loud, but he seems well aware how much you love having him inside of you, the feeling of being full, the only thing that swims around your mind.

“Hmm, can you feel me here?” This time the question is accompanied by his palm on your lower belly, where a hint of a bulge forms when he gives you a deep thrust.

“Y-Yes.” You practically wail, body tingling from being so close. “You feel so —- Ughnnn.”

His chuckle is a mix of laughter and a moan, his lips coming down on yours in a kiss that’s as messy as it is desperate. “Are you shy, hmm? C-Can’t even say you like my cock inside of you.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Ah. I like it. I like it so much.”

He groans deep in his chest, hips still working. “You’ll drive me crazy one day, know that?"

What he doesn’t say but you know it’s true, it’s that he likes it as much as you do.

✿

What it becomes, is something you don't know exactly how to describe. All you know is that you spend a lot of time in Johnny's dorm these days. So much that you decorated every detail from it, from the fancy music equipment to the posters on the wall.

He fucks you in every way possible and it's weird that someone could know exactly how to please you, how to get you screaming. And then the two of you talk for hours, something putting on something to watch on his notebook while sharing ice cream, other times just laying down in silence until you fall asleep.

It's something you're not quite sure to navigate. How easy it feels when you are with him, and how right it feels. You two navigate this uncertain thing very smoothly and the need to put a name to it, asking the 'what are we' question escapes you often.

Right now you two lay down on his small bed, bare legs touching and the thin sheet on top of you barely covers anything. It was a rare thing to feel this comfortable with someone.

He's talking about something his mother said to him on the phone, about drinking green tea and you just listen, enjoying the sound of his voice until he stops and looks down at you with a small smile.

"Every time I talk about my parents you get this look." He says and you make a weird face at him.

"No I don't." You defend yourself and he chuckles.

"You do." He accuses. "Are you analyzing my parental relationship?"

You scoff, turning around to face him better. "No. I'm just friendly, feeling sorrow because of the fact you didn't get to choose what to study."

He looks back at you, looking soft with the late afternoon peeking in from his half closed window. "It's fine, really. I can study engine sound later on, there's no expiration. Besides, they did so much for me this is the least I can do."

You fight the urge to point out that he doesn't really owe them anything. It was hard sometimes to make sense of the way other people navigated their parental relationships. So all you say is a small "Yeah…"

"What about your parents? What are they like?"

"I don't know. They are divorced, so I haven't really talked to my father in a while." You hope he doesn't see this as weird. Every time he talks about his family they seem so normal, that it makes you envy him a bit. You always think that if you talk about your parents, people will think you're somehow messed up because of it, so you always keep it short. Johnny doesn't seem to mind it. "My mom is cool, I guess. She's funny."

He hums "I would like to meet her someday." It sounds like a bold statement. Something that means something, but he says with an ease that makes the thought of it seem pleasant. You realize you would like that to happen as well.

"She would like you." Is what you say with as much ease as he did.

A comfortable silence feels the room then, with only the low sound of the fan turning filling your ears. You don't think about how the room smells like sex, or about how summer is approaching and you'll probably not be able to see each other for a while.

"Are you going home for the summer?" You decide to ask.

He turns to look at you again. "Yeah, what about you?"

"I'm gonna start my internship. Work on my thesis." You had talked about both these things before, how important they were for you and the mention of it makes him smile.

"That's really nice." He says and you give him a tiny smile.

You swallow a lump in your throat then, the 2 months you'll stay apart hitting you and you just let the words escape your mouth. "I'm gonna miss you. Really."

He says it back by kissing you, softly and then with meaning. It happens naturally after that, like there wasn't anything else that made more sense than being as close to each other as possible right now.

When he enters you, you look up at him in what you think is awe. Your eyes hazy, barely able to keep open and lips parting in yet another moan.

It’s a nice view, in your defense, of Johnny hovering over you, looking so big as he fucks you so well you’re sure your second orgasm of the night is already approaching. You’re not embarrassed to say that most of the times this happens you go a little dumb in the head, your mind swimming in the gooey feeling of pleasure and all you can think about is him. Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.

“Oh, oh… oh my god.” You sigh dreamily yet broken enough that it makes him smile when a sharp thrust makes your hips raise a little. He’s always proud of being able to get you like this, to be the only one who does so.

He hums as if agreeing with a very thorough statement, moving his arms so he can press his chest to yours as he fucks into you with calculated thrusts . You can barely move with his weight on top of you, with how he seems to lock you in place with his hips and it’s enough for another broken sob to fall from your lips.

“Good?” He asks in a groan and with a nice slide of his cock inside of you to punctuate the question. You nod frantically because he’s as deep as he can get, knows this very well, and the feeling is something that makes you flutter around him in the desperate need to come.

He kisses your cheek then, two sweet but filthy enough with his heavy exhales against it. His pace never gets too fast, just hinting at it but he maintains a speed that leaves you on the brink of your release. But, you only reach it when he pinches your clit with his fingers, circling it until your lips part in a silent scream and you’re coming again.

And the sounds he makes when your walls squeeze just a little more than he can handle are something else. A deep groan and a pained little sob that you find extremely endearing and hot at the same time, his face contorting as he quickened his pace just enough to push him over the edge, finally coming inside of the condom.

“You look so pretty like this.” He’ll say afterwards when he’s still inside of you, too lazy to move as you brush the hair out of his face.

And you’ll smile, in the way he seems to like so much, and say “You look pretty all the time” just to get him to smile at you.

act 3: yellow light (hit the brakes)

The rain was predictable. It had been raining every other day the entire month, on your way to work early in the morning you always ended up stepping on a pool and ruining your entire day because of your wet socks.

Not a lot of the people you knew had a car, or would willing to go out of their way to give you a lift. Your finger had hovered on top of Johnny’s contact for a while, not out of confidence that he would help you because you knew he would. But you hadn't really talked since summer started. There were random interactions, like replying to one of his instagram stories commenting on how intelectual posting pictures at The Louvre made him look and him making a joke about it or sharing a trivia about french people.

Besides, bothering people made you uncomfortable, as if that somehow put you in debt and in a state of vulnerability with the person.

But Johnny doesn’t look like he’s going to hold a grudge against you over a lift. Instead, when you apologize for making him come all the way there, he says “I was in the area anyway.”

Which you doubt, but you don’t say anything so you just smile and thank him again.

It's somehow weird that you don't even expect him to mention what happened last term. You fight the urge to say it out loud, mention a small detail about the whole thing just for him to laugh and somehow confirm to you that it really happened. It scared you sometimes how things were so momentary, as if life was supposed to be just a collection of things you would remember about and feel sad about.

But it’s easy with Johnny, had been from the start. In a way that makes you think that some people are really meant to meet if only for a moment.

You had expected the casual friendship you had with the other friends you had met at college to fade slowly, which had happened. Without the bond of parties and fun there wasn’t much left there, and that was fine, you were never really lonely because you didn’t have a lot of time to be. Your mind was also set in a routine and state of tiredness that anything out of that seemed to set it in a frenzy and it would just shut down, making it hard to make conversation naturally.

Work was usually quiet, but sometimes the girl that was also accepted for the internship would try to strike conversation about her thesis and while she was talking your gaze would be focused forward while your mind went somewhere else. She never pointed that out, probably because she just wanted to talk and not really listen. You were fine with that.

But with Johnny the silence is not the kind that makes you wonder if you should say something. You think that if you were to get in a daze right now he would try to pull you out, ask what you were daydreaming about, or maybe that’s you building your other life, the one you think about before going to sleep.

You watch the window wipe, swiping away the raindrops as Johnny picks a song. It’s just a little past 6 but the clouds make it look much later.

“How is the internship going?” Johnny asks after he sets on a song you don’t really know.

You shrug. Not long ago you had told him how excited you were for this, as if you thought your life would start with this idealized career you had created in your mind. At the time having to watch people your age sign forms about how depressed they are didn’t seem that bad. “It’s fine, not that busy at night so I get to work on my thesis when they give me those shifts.”

That involves a lot of reading multiple times the same page of articles written by pretentious men that think using difficult sentences makes them smarter. You think your advisor expects the same from you, fancy nomenclature but the human mind is already complicated enough by itself.

“And how is that going?” Johnny has no idea what you’re writing about, no one actually does. Sometimes you even doubt yourself, does it really matter to talk about something that feels so specific to your reality? Because it does seem like everyone else is doing a good job at living and not feeling like they are disconnected from reality.

You scoff and shake your head missing the way his lips corners lift just a little. “The best way it can, I suppose.”

“Good enough.” He says in his cheerful voice. “When are you going to become that kind of person that can't stop talking about what they are studying?"

That makes you laugh a little. If there was something you were familiar with, it was people who loved to talk about their thesis as if they would come up with the solution to all of the world's problems. "I don't think that really suits me." Just mentioning it made you actually a little sick.

"Yeah, because you are mysterious and all."

And there it is. Just this small reference to a past conversation you had with him, alone in your small dorm room, makes you feel giddy. You could even blush if you thought hard enough about it.

"Exactly, a box of surprises." You say, in a funny voice and his laugh makes you smile.

Outside the rain is still going strong and you can see students running around trying to find shelter while laughing and using their backpacks as improvised umbrellas. The sky is completely dark now and it makes you want to be in bed, safe and sound.

You go to ask Johnny about his summer in France, but he beats you to it. He had always been better at conversations, anyway.

"I saw that friend of yours, Ela I think." He mentions casually. "She's dating a friend of mine."

You knew that because of the numerous pictures on your instagram feed, but for some reason you pretend to be mildly surprised "Oh really? I haven't really talked to her in awhile." A shrug. "We don't have much in common, turns out."

He hums sympathetically. "Yeah that makes sense. But they both seem happy."

"Yeah." The topic doesn't really interest you. You can't barely remember a time where your past friends' love lives had any affect on you, now it's just a piece of information you'll forget about in a few hours.

"What about you, seeing anyone at the moment?" The question makes you raise both your eyebrows as you let out a laugh that sounds suspicious. It's a weird thing for him to ask but at the same time not really.

You sigh and he looks at you with a funny face, as if he's amused. I don't think I have the energy for that. What about you?"

He shrugs, turning his face to the front again. "Not really."

Months ago you think you would have made a flirty commentary about that. Something along the lines of 'That's good, I get jealous easily.' and it would have made him laugh. But now you just hum, not out of interest but because you are not sure how you would react to the potential outcome.

It should've felt obvious that he would somehow mention your relationship. You always thought that when you two talked about it, it would be bringing up the months you would see each other every day, and how you spend more time at his place than at your own. But what he says is, "Remember when you refused me?"

He says it in a funny voice, like old friends reminiscing on the past. You get confused with the pace of the conversations and ask "What?"

"At McDonalds. I asked you out and you said 'We'll see about it.'" He says it laughing, which means he's not hurt by that.

"I didn't think you remembered that." You mutter, because you really didn't. "And please, I wasn't rejecting you."

The last part is a lie. At the time you didn't think he was serious about it. Now, you don't know exactly what you think.

"Right, right. When you put me down nicely."

That makes you roll your eyes, laughing alongside him. "Yeah, right."

When the laugh dies down you watch as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel. You feel a weird sensation in your chest.

"Why did you?" He asks, voice not much more serious but the question has weight that his past sentences didn't have.

You could tell him the truth, of what kind of person you thought he was and how that changed. You definitely couldn't open up about what kind of person you were. So you settle for this: "I don't know, I think.. I mean, I'm not sure we would have worked out back then."

He hums loudly, then clicks his tongue. "Yeah. I don't know either." His voice is soft then, mixing perfectly with the muted rain sound and the song still playing. "You can never know."

You turn your face to look at him. There's no way to do it without him noticing that you are staring, but you do it without a hint of shame.

If you thought about it hard enough, about everything that happened, you would still not be able to point out exactly what would have happened if something more serious took place. And that's a weird thing to think about, because there was never a point in your relationship where neither of you decided it was meant to be casual, that's just how it turned out to be.

Later at night you will think about how there's nothing really casual about the way you can perfectly picture Johnny when you close your eyes, laying on your bed shirtless, hair a mess and face illuminated by the sun peaking out your window. How there's nothing casual at all about the fact that it has never felt like it did with anyone else.

But now, you just look at him with your heart ready to burst and you say. " We should watch a movie together someday."

He laughs, looks at you for a second and says "Yeah, we should."

act 4: what’s going on?

You didn’t feel particularly fond of mondays. Having to let go of the leisureliness of the weekend behind and welcome another week ahead never felt like a good idea when your phone alarm would start ringing at 7am.

It's not that the weekend was much better than that. All you ever did was read books that made your head ache for hours and then write never ending paragraphs that you hoped would make sense for anyone besides yourself. It was easy to become some sort of alienated when you stayed focused inside your room for so long, and having to remember that there was a whole life outside was a little painful.

When you walk inside the clinic the sound of the coffee machine being turned on reaches your ears and you mutter a small good morning to the psychiatrist that usually took the morning shifts. She was tall and always looked put together with a blazer jacket and red lipstick. Her friendly face made you suspicious for some reason.

"Good weekend?" She asks as you place your things on the front desk and you spare a smile to make her think you are interested in talking about your weekend.

"Yeah, sure." You turn on the old computer they got for you to use. A blue screen greets your eyes, then it glitches for a second like it always does. "What about you?"

It might sound like you're not a very nice person if you say you don't really care how her weekend went. Or that you would wish the conversation would have stopped at the greeting. But you really don't. These days talking to people takes a lot of effort and most of the time you wish you'd be just swallowed by silence and left alone.

"It was great, thank you." She says while adding sugar to her coffee. You are sitting down now and she turns to look at you with a sympathetic face. "Listen, I have a free spot this morning, if you'd like to talk a little."

You blink slowly, taking a moment to process the words she said, but it really doesn't take a genius to understand she's offering you counseling. Most likely because she thinks you need it.

And you're not about to argue that you don't, because you more than anything else know that you do, but you feel like you're not ready for it yet. As if you have things to figure out first. "Oh, that's very nice of you to offer." You say, uncertain how exactly to handle this. "But I have some things to get done."

The lie is accepted easily but she still raises her eyebrow a little. Still, she says. "Alright, then. Just remember I'm one door away."

You thank her, smiling politely until she finally leaves to her office. The computer is still loading and you let out another deep sigh, considering drinking a cup of coffee but deciding against it to not trouble your anxiety any more.

What happens next couldn't possibly be predicted. You take your phone out of your bag and open instagram out of habit, to pass some time. Johnny's profile is still the first one that shows up on the stories board, probably from all the time you spent messaging each other in the past.

It had been a while since you two talked to each other, but you kept up with his whereabouts from looking at the pictures he posted with friends and of random things. More often than not you fought the urge to reply to them, as if you didn't really know each other anymore.

You don't expect to see him with a girl when you click on his photo. But there he is, with arms around her and a single heart. You tap on to the next one and it's a repost from someone else's instagram, of a picture of him and the girl kissing while laughing.

There's a few words you can use to describe how you feel. Your heart drops and you go cold, blinking very slowly as the pictures change to another person's stories and for a second it's like it didn't happen. Like it was just a trick of the eye.

Would it be silly to cry over this? You think it would so you take a deep breath and try to not think about it anymore.

✿

It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that you probably loved him. Or at least felt a deep kind of infatuation. Sometimes at night you lay in bed and wonder what exactly went wrong and you can't really find an answer to that. It just naturally happened.

Maybe you should have said something, maybe if you did things would've stayed the same. You wish that at the time you knew what to say but now it was a little too late.

You stare at your blank ceiling, your skin tingling where it touches you sheets. Looking at couples always made you feel weird, with jealousy maybe because you never thought that was something for you. Being in love has always been something that other people got to experience, and you got to watch it but never try it for yourself.

Maybe there was something wrong with how you worked, how you viewed this whole thing. You wish you knew what so you could fix it.

Sometimes when you close your eyes you imagine someone wrapping arms around you, with a familiar cologne that makes you feel at home. the person doesn’t complain when you hug them tighter, probably knows this is what you need.

You think of all the men you had dated, the ones who disappeared out of nowhere and the ones who treated you like shit because you allowed it. You didn't really know how it really had to work until you met Johnny.

It had never felt like that. Gentle and soft and easy.

How to separate true loneliness from the mere need to feel something, to have someone want you? That’s a trick question and you think about it until you fall asleep.

✿

For you last month in college, you don’t do much.

The internship ends with the old lady that was in charge of the clinic telling you what an amazing job you did, and how she knows for sure you will exceed in the area. She writes a beautiful recommendation letter, mentions a few professional names and then sends you away.

A week before its deadline you send out your finished thesis to your advisor, after spending half an hour staring at your email until you can press send. You got a reply two hours later with pleasantries and a date for your final presentation.

As you wait for it there's nothing a lot to do. Some days you walk around campus without a real destination in mind, stopping by the cafeteria and the library on your way. There's not many people around this time of the year, most have gone already and the ones that stayed spend time rehearsing for presentations or hanging out with friends.

You get texts from people you haven't talked to in months, wishing you good luck and inviting you to parties that you attend once or twice just to get one last taste of it.

It’s weird that you don’t feel the deep sense of realization you thought you would. You lay down on the small bed you slept on for two years, stare at the empty walls of your dorm now that you’ve put all your things away, and you feel almost normal. Sure there’s a little ball of emptiness and excitement on your stomach alongside pride for finishing this and for having grown up so much since freshman year. But besides that you just feel normal.

Maybe this is what being alive is, experiencing life changing moments and not feeling like they mean much. Maybe some moments are just meant to be remembered as special, and not lived as such.

Your presentation goes well, you don’t trip over your words and your teachers compliment your great work afterwards. You cry, in front of a bunch of people you don’t know, and let out a deep breath of relief.

Ten days later you graduate, wearing the usual attire and walking on stage with a smile on your face when your name is called. No one screams your name or cheers loudly because plane tickets were too expensive for your parents to attend. The claps from your classmates are still nice.

You don’t expect to see Johnny there, but he shows up wearing a suit that looks alien compared to the clothes he wears daily. He looks good, familiar and it makes a lump form on your throat.

You hadn’t really talked to each other in a while. It had been a natural thing to happen, for the two of you to fall a little apart. But still, when he waves at you, you make your way to him easily.

“Finally got your ticket out of this place, huh?” He jokes with a smile on his lips that you can’t help but mimic.

“Yeah, I’m finally free.” You joke back.

You inhale softly when he hugs you, so close that you can hear his heartbeat. He surrounds you with him and you think you would drown right now if he allowed you to. “Congratulations, ____.” He says quietly, almost whispering your name.

You’re both smiling when you part. “Soon it’ll be you.”

Before he can reply a familiar face makes her way to where you two are. Johnny circles her waist when she gets close enough and you fight as to not let your smile fall. He introduces her as his girlfriend, a biomedicine student that smiles big when she congratulates you on graduating and expresses how she can’t wait for her turn to come.

She’s very pretty is what you keep thinking about as you make small talk that feels a little painful.

After some time Johnny says “Well, we should leave you to go talk to your family. It was really nice to see you, ____.”

His words sound genuine and you smile when he hugs you again.

You don’t tell them there’s not really anyone you know for you to talk to. Instead, you walk to your dorm with your heels clicking on the asphalt.

act 5: old friend / late spring

Your feet hurt a little from standing too much and not even the coldness of the beer you’re having can make you ignore it.

The truth is that you really wanted to be home right now, eating leftovers while you watched a movie. But instead, you’re in the bar your colleagues always attended after work to share a laugh and complain about mundane things while enjoying the 2 for 1 deal they had on friday for happy hour.

Working in an office with people wearing suits hadn’t been what you had envisioned yourself doing two years after graduating. You had always dreamt of having your own clinic, becoming a therapist or even working at a hospital. But times were hard and the human relations department of a marketing company had been what you had to go for.

It’s not as boring as it sounds, and you get to know about every gossip firsthand so you settle for it very easily. But having to be at a bar after a whole tiring week was not on your favorites list.

You excuse yourself from the group when they start talking about something you were tired of hearing. A gossip about the boss sleeping with someone from the finance department that you knew about months ago.

You walk to the bar, cursing your heels until you finally sit on a stool, ordering another beer that you know is gonna be your last before you decide to escape. There’s loud conversation happening all around you and a song playing over it. Your back hurts a bit and you wonder when life has become so mundane.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the man that sits right next to you until he’s ordering a beer and the voice seems familiar.

Your heart jumps out of your chest when you look at him and Johnny stands there in all his glory, with blonde hair and a very fancy suit. “Oh my fucking god.” Is the only thing you manage to mumble.

For a second you think you might be dreaming, but when he turns and looks at you his face contorts in the most amusing expression of surprise.

Maybe this is what being alive is, experiencing life changing moments and not feeling like they mean much. Maybe some moments are just meant to be remembered as special, and not lived as such.

The two of you hug while laughing and he keeps muttering something that sounds like a ‘no way.’

“I can’t believe this! What are you doing here?” You ask excitedly and he laughs.

“I’m working on a office a few blocks from here.” He explains. “Just started a few days ago.”

“I work around here too.” You exclaim and it’s like you could buzz from how excited you feel about this.

You talk about things easily, both sharing what you have been doing for the past years.

“This is crazy. I haven’t heard from you since college.” He says and it makes you freeze, blinking slowly but it doesn’t last long until you are covering your surprise by chuckling. Suddenly you’re hit with memories from those years and everything that happened between the two of you. Your eyes meet his and it strikes you that he’s probably thinking the same thing as you are.

You shake your thoughts away, leaning on the counter with one elbow and then resting your face on your palm. “Who would’ve thought we would reunite after those years in a sketchy bar.” You joke, in a playful tone to keep the conversation going.

He chuckles, bringing his hand to his face before he replies. “I would have never guessed this was your kind of scene.”

The way he says it makes you snort. “It’s definitely not.”

“Yeah.” He nods while laughing, “Still a moment kind of girl then?”

You nod then, making an amused sound while you take a sip of your beer. “Seems to me like you still got me all figured out.”

“Do I? I used to think that I did but after all it happened I wasn’t so sure anymore.” He says avoiding your eyes a little and a lump forms on your throat. “To be honest I don’t really understand what happened.”

You nod, turning to face him. “I think it wasn’t the right time.” It’s what you decide to say and he hums.

“When is ever the right time for anything?” He asks and it makes you laugh loudly.

You share a look then, one that says more than you could ever do with words. He smiles and then you smile back, like old friends would. “Maybe we met again for a reason.”

Deep down, you know this is one of those moments happening. One that you’ll look back on the future and remember that it is where it all began. Again.

#johnny scenarios #JOHNNY SMUT #nct smut #nct scenarios #neowritingsnet #i honestly think this is bad lol #but well ENJOY

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years ago

Text

Purgatorio. Yan Giorno x Reader [COMM]

Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, descriptions of anxiety, briefly implied suicidal thoughts. Word count: 3.2k.

Cold droplets of water run down the curves of your face, falling into the sink with a hushed splash.

The faucet runs in the background. For how long, you do not know. Time doesn’t move and neither do you. Everything is still -- too still -- lending to the impression the only person in this world is you. In a way, that conclusion is close to the truth. This would be paradise, meticulously crafted for your confinement, boasts a modest population of two.

Your hands grip tightly onto the edges of the countertop, knuckles going white from the vise-like grip. The pain you should feel from this tight hold goes unnoticed. Each forced breath is shakier than the last, betraying the intention of steadying your heaving chest. You lift your head. In the mirror, staring back is a figure that faintly resembles your liking. A version that would deceive anyone else into believing it to be you. On a surface level, they’d be correct. None of your features have changed drastically. The eyes that are staring back, though glassy now, are the same eyes you’ve always had in color and shape.

Shaky hands take liberty in splashing water towards your face. With undeterred focus, you direct the water mostly towards your lips, frantically dousing them. Once is nowhere near enough. Twice, three times, four times; nothing can wash away the faint tingling that haunts. This doesn’t deter you. In a trance-like state, you try to wipe yourself clean of impurities, hoping to be pure as freshly fallen snow. The fabric of your shirt is as drenched as you are from the frantic efforts. Thin material clings to you, as does the hair on either side of your face.

You turn the faucet off.

Sinking to the ground, you wish your legs wouldn’t betray you as they do now. It’s a miracle that you even managed to make it here on your own strength. The remnants of your energy have bloomed and withered away, your body no longer capable of supporting its own weight. Tears join in a union with the tap water. It comes out at once. Sobs wrack throughout your body, your shoulders shaking and head hung low. There is but one question that haunts your mind. A question that can no longer go ignored, but when answered, will change the trajectory of everything you’ve come to known. Everything you’ve taught yourself to cope and survive.

When did you stop hating him?

There’s no singular moment that carries the answer, preferable it may be. It was an unobtrusive, slow yet steady descent into apathy. Giorno cornered you, yes, but that was the extent of it. He backed you up against the cliff and stopped there. It was your decision, and yours alone, to make the blind leap. Searching your memories, you look to find the day your animosity faded, your sense of self dying alongside it.

Was it the strained yet casual talks in the morning? The luxurious gifts of diamond-studded jewelry, luxurious outfits, and exotic flowers? When you no longer flinched when overheating his approaching footsteps? Maybe it’s all of that, and more, times you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge yet. All you know is that somewhere along the line, the flames of your disgust flickered, leaving no signs that it ever even existed but ashes. Without noticing what you were doing, your fingers travel to your bottom lip, eyes closing. This would be what served as the final nail in the coffin.

The evening had been a normal one.

Normal. That you had described it that way should’ve served as an omen. It had been just after an uneventful dinner. Giorno promised to take you on a walk through the outdoor gardens, an invitation not so easily rejected. Most if not all of your days were spent in the confines of four walls. The moon, which had just taken the place of the sun, illuminated winding cobblestone paths. Shrubbery of every kind sparsely decorated either side, a visual delight, pale moonlight casting an ethereal glow on each branch. You trailed behind Giorno in a silence he allowed. Lost in thought, taken with the beauty of nature.

It was you who broke the silence. A foolish mistake. “Giorno?”

He turned and looked at you, slightly taken aback that you called for him so easily. That had to have been one of the few instances where his name left your lips, a sweet sound he committed to memory. Mundane as it was for you, Giorno interpreted it as something greater, a welcome evolution. He nodded to signal that you hold his undivided attention. A thought that was on your mind surfaces.

“I’ve been thinking about… things I can do,” you licked your lips, tentative. Giorno eyed your body language closely, and you felt the weight of his stare. “Gardening is what I always come back to. I’d like to grow something, as a way to pass the time.”

Your sentence died out toward the end and turned into a whisper. What a difference there was in your posture compared to his, you noticed. He never doubted himself. Never showed signs of apprehension, always crystal clear on the decisions he needed to make. Where you trod lightly, he went forward with confidence. Silly as it may be, you envied that aspect of Giorno, an aspect that elevated him to a place just out of reach. You wondered if showing more conviction would get you the results you wanted from him.

“I’ll have it arranged so that you can. Was there something, in particular, you’d like to grow?” Giorno asked without missing a beat. Your heart leaped in your chest, encouraged by how well he received your request, and in record time too. It should’ve served as a premonition. At the time, you were more than pleased, and subconsciously took a step towards him. A step closer to your undoing.

“Well, it’d need to be in season… maybe carrots and cauliflower. I’d like to plant things that I could cook later.”

“That’s a good place for a beginner to start. Though I must admit, I never took you for someone who’d be interested in gardening. What brought this on?”

It’s no use. Giorno, tactful as he may be, could see through you as if you were glass. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other. Lying would serve no purpose, he’d notice it. The truth is a frightening concept. How he might interpret your words left room for anxiety. You knew that standing there with sealed lips would be incriminating, and rushed out an unfiltered answer.

“I want to go outside more.”

He peered down at you through thick, blonde eyelashes. Giorno took a step closer to your person, and he frowned at the way you flinched from the sudden movement. The interaction left a bitter taste in his mouth that he sought to be rid of. To understand and deal with a person are two sides of the same coin, both a talent he’s cultivated well. Giorno’s calculating eyes met yours and never left.

“[First]...” your name rolled off his tongue like silk, smooth and deceptively soft. “I’ll see what I can do to make it work. You know I’m partial to anything you ask of me.”

Giorno’s tenderness was palpable, and you ate it up. The illusion of freedom blinded you to reality. He raised his hand and hovered it right above your cheek. Giorno awaited your reaction and tested the waters. When you offered no signs of resistance, he cupped your face. You noticed how his fingers trembled. This unabashed affection was the first of its kind. New to you and him both. You stared up at him, as your heart hammered against your ribcage. A touch that should’ve made you recoil did nothing of the sort. You welcomed it and treasured how human it made you feel.

The change had been so subtle, that you missed it in a blink of the eye. His face grew closer. You could catch the different notes of his signature cologne -- sandalwood, leather, spice -- and the coarse texture of his suit which rubbed against your skin. Giorno was so near, that you felt his warm breath against your face. He looked at you through lidded eyes and sought to close the gap between you. Your mind was a flurry of thoughts and emotions, muddled by the unexpected events. For all of Giorno’s shortcomings, he had never touched you so boldly until then. And you had never let him. There you stood, frozen like a statue, allowing him to do as he pleased.

His lips met yours.

It didn’t register at first. Everything had happened so fast, that your mind struggled to keep up. Giorno’s kiss was chaste, a method to test the waters. To test you. He tasted of the Tartufo di Pizzo he ate earlier, rich and saccharine. When was the last time you were this close to another? That you felt a human’s loving touch, basked in the warmth of their body? You can’t remember for sure. It must’ve been a long time ago, a time before Giorno Giovanna. The moment ended as soon as it arrived. At your lack of reciprocation, he went to pull back. God, it would’ve been so simple if that’s how it ended. If that served as the final chapter. All you had wanted was to feel human again, not like a glorified prisoner in gold bars. That’s the only plausible reason, right? The meager distance between you two was closed again, though it was your lips that met his. Giorno let out a noise of shock, an emotion you were never able to draw out of him until then.

Where he had been soft, you were unrelenting. You kissed him with primal urgency and wove your hands into the strands of his golden hair to pull him close. Giorno was more than pleased to let you do so. The initial stupor wore off, and he matched your fervor with equal tenacity. You’re not sure what exactly was on your mind then. You didn’t know why you did what you did, other than to distract yourself for a moment. How gratifying it had felt then. Giorno held your face in one hand, while the other traveled down to your waist. That eager touch served to pull you back into reality. Almost as if the clock had struck midnight, the spell was broken, and you were left with the undignified truth.

You realized what you were doing. Who it was you had just been kissing, and you staggered back. Eyes wide as a doe, unsure of who the blame was to be placed upon. Giorno had to choose to loosen his grip on you, and you felt every ounce of his hesitance. Those all-knowing, omniscient eyes opened, clearly perplexed. His eyebrows furrowed and lips parted to speak. Before he had the chance to question you, you scampered back into the house. Giorno stood there and watched you depart. His soul stirred. It could’ve been your imagination, but you swore you saw a flash of gold behind you.

Which leads to now.

Seasons change, as do feelings. A fickle thing emotions are. They take the form of liquid, reshaping, and redistributing themselves according to their environment. Never did you envision your loathing transforming into… no, you won’t say it. You can’t. Plans for the rest of the day are up in the air. Maybe it’d do you some good to get rest. Holding this thought in mind, you will yourself to get up, legs unsteady. You make your way out of the master bathroom that connects to your private suite, a luxury that Giorno bestowed. Each step feels heavier than the last. A King-sized bed awaits, silk linens dipping underneath your weight. Sleeping forever sounds lovely right about now. How can you ever face him again? What does he think of you now? Worst of all, why do you care? Throwing yourself onto the bed, you shut your eyes, willing your mind to go elsewhere. Anywhere but that disaster earlier. The chance to do so never comes, much to your chagrin.

There’s a knock on the door.

You freeze, assuming the worst. Heart pounding violently, you search for an explanation, that might explain the person at your door. Maybe it’s the mouse-like staff that tends to Giorno’s estate in the shadows. Rarely do they interact with you, likely at his behest, though it isn’t impossible he’d send them to check up on you. That hope melts when a deep, composed voice speaks up, a voice that you know too well.

“[First]? Are you decent?” Giorno probes, his voice muffled by the closed door. You glance down at your outfit, knowing he’ll have a fair share of questions at your current state. It’d be easier to avoid the confrontation entirely. Easier, but not plausible, you bitterly think. Lord knows he has eyes everywhere. Lying to get around this might serve as a point of contention in the future. So you sigh, swallowing down the lump in your throat. Straightening your shoulders, you place your hands on your lap, hoping to appear somewhat collected.

“Yes, I am.” You confirm after a moment's deliberation. His response is immediate.

“Can I come in?” What an amusing question. Giorno could do whatever he pleases, having the locks to every room in this estate on his person. It’s you who is subject to his every will and whim, you who doesn’t have a true choice in the matter. A thin veil of courtesy hides the viper who waits to strike at your heel. Might as well get this over with, you decide. It’s either now or later.

“You can.”

Giorno opens the door at your confirmation, and you hear the keys jingling like funeral tolls. He’s well put together to the point of frustration, hair set in place perfectly, suit without a wrinkle. You sometimes wonder if Giorno Giovanna is even human and not a deity. Unfortunately, you’ve yet to conclude and are leaning towards the latter. As you expected, his eyes temporarily wander to your soaked appearance, lips pulling into a tight frown. It takes a moment to realize how he might interpret this look. Not to say the thought has never crossed your mind, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I… I, uh, wasn’t trying to drown myself,” you stutter out with an unconvincing smile. He looks to the ajar bathroom door, and back to you with a raised eyebrow. You clear your throat. “You can check yourself. I was freshening up in the sink.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Giorno exhales, adjusting the cuff of his suit. He looks around your sparsely decorated room. Any onlooker might wonder if someone lives here at all. The room is immaculate, no clothes were strewn about, not an item out of it’s assigned place. You realize it’s been a long time since Giorno’s been in your room. Months, even. When you were first brought here, he’d explained to a distraught you what was happening. Speaking about protection, your well-being, how he could take such excellent care of you. At the time the grave words didn’t sink in. You had no idea what turbulent future awaited you then. Is Giorno thinking the same thing? If he is, he doesn’t mention it, returning his focus to you.

“About earlier,” he pauses when you wince. Giorno gives you a second to gather yourself before continuing. “I wanted to apologize. It was inappropriate of me to assume your feelings.”

Assume your feelings? What does he mean by that? The confession stuck out like a sore thumb. You uncross and cross your legs on the other side, unable to sit still. Sure, you’ve grown to be passive in his presence. Even you can acknowledge this. That’s all it is, passivity, not… acceptance. Or worse, reciprocation. Months of combative behavior taught you how exhausting hatred is. Giorno proved that no speech, act, or plead of yours would sway him. You’d have better luck convincing a brick wall. This wording troubles you greatly, and Giorno picks up on it.

He continues. “I misinterpreted your body language and acted without thinking. I saw what I wanted to see.”

Giorno doesn’t make mistakes like that. He’s many things: your kidnapper and sole provider, a merciless Don to those who stand in his way, and a man borderline capable of reading the thoughts of others. You can’t picture a world where Giorno slips up in reading other’s moods. What point would there be in lying to you about this? He saw what he wanted to see, this line repeats in your mind like a mantra. There was an undeniable reason for its inclusion. To make you feel better. An out, a silver lining to keep everything as it was. Giorno didn’t make an error in his judgment, you realize, face paling. I… I do love...

“That’s all I came here to say,” Giorno informs, observing how your face twists from your thoughts. He knows it’s due to him. “I’m sorry for disturbing your evening.”

It feels like arctic water is crashing down on you, frigid and fraying your nerves. Giorno pivots on his heel and turns to leave. You know you should let him. Taking this outstretched hand would be simpler, likely even better for your sake. It’s painful how your stomach churns, how every breath is more difficult than the last. This anguish is a deeply rooted one. Too personal and oppressive to withstand any longer. Let him leave, you think. Just let this be over with.

When have you ever listened to reason?

“Giorno,” you call to him, as you did earlier, voice somehow more delicate than it was then. He turns around, face never betraying his thoughts. Giorno’s impossible to get a read on. Clenching the frame of your bed, your gaze drops to your lap. “You… you didn’t misinterpret anything.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, and you bite your lower lip. “What I mean to say is… it’s fine.”

You gather enough fragments of confidence to raise your head. Turquoise eyes, rich and expansive as the Tyrrhenian sea, pierce through with an intensity Giorno’s never used on you. Your mind goes blank, and you forget how to properly breathe. He breaks the stun-lock first. It’s rare that you ever see a genuine smile on Giorno’s face, but there’s no denying this one is. He’s quick to cover his mouth with the back of his hand. You feel an odd sense of loss at this.

“I’m glad to hear it.” With that, he retires for the evening, bidding you a final goodnight. Giorno closes the door silently to not disturb you. As per the routine, you hear locks going into place, one after the other. You lose count. Footsteps echo down the hallway, signaling his departure. You’re doubtful Giorno himself is going to sleep, he’s a willing victim to late nights, and can only assume he wanted to offer you time to think.

So you are left here on your lonesome.

Not quite in heaven, and not quite in hell.

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