#I’ll close my eyes and count for like ten seconds
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Me, at 11:48 at night: Alright, I’ve decided to stop staying up so late. It’s a good decision, a healthy one. I’m really glad I’ve settled on this. Let me just check my phone one more time before I go to sleep.
Me: *opens up ao3 and immediately finds a 50,000+ word fanfic with my favorite pairing and an intriguing plot*
Me:
Me: Welp. Sleep is overrated anyway— LET’S GOOO!!!
Bonus:
*The next morning*
#star wars#sw fanfic#I’m trying so hard to be good!!#but then authors put out this amazing crap and I just can’t#I’ll close my eyes and count for like ten seconds#then pick the phone up and keep reading#it’s a problem#but I love it#ahsoka tano#you know it’s gonna be her#she’s my muse#can’t beat her#ao3#ao3 fanfic#fan fiction
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bottle up old love (jjk) (m)
summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
pairing: Jungkook x Reader
rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)
genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff
word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)
prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)
warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol
MASTERLIST
“Don’t fucking touch me!”
You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.
“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”
“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.
“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”
The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”
“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.
“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.
There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.
“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.
And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.
Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”
“Who the fuck are you?!”
“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”
Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”
Then he spins and takes off running down the street.
Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.
“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.
He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”
“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”
“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”
“So I should be worried about you then?”
He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”
You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.
It’s how he broke up with you after all.
You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.
“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”
But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”
“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”
Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.
Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.
“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”
And you close the door in his face.
The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.
You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).
The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.
Or so you think.
After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.
And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.
Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.
Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.
“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.
“He might come back.”
“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”
He shrugs. “If I have to.”
“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”
He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”
You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”
“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”
If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.
“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”
Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.
Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.
“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.
There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.
Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.
You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.
“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.
You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.
“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.”
It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.
Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.
“I’m sorry.”
Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.
“What?”
He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”
You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.
“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”
Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”
“Yes.”
He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.
���Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.
“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”
This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.
“So then why?”
He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.
The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.
“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”
It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.
Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.
“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”
You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.
“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”
Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”
His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”
“No, shit.”
“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”
The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.
“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”
His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.
So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”
His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.
“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”
He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.
“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”
And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.
You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.
Speaking of.
The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.
“Beautiful,” you whisper.
“Just like you.”
You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.
“You left.”
“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”
“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”
“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”
And it’s all you need to hear.
You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso.
“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.
You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.
But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”
Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes
“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.
“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”
A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.
“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.
You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”
“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.
Like you said. Insane.
He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.
“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”
He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.
“Fuck, me neither.”
You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.
“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.
“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.
So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.
“You?”
It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?
You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”
This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”
A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.
“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”
“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.
“Ride me, baby.”
You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.
“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”
You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.
He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.
You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.
“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.
Hard.
You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.
It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.
The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.
“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.
“I missed you.”
You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”
He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”
“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”
A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”
“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.
“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”
a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#bts x reader#bts x you#bts imagines#jungkook imagines#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#bts angst#bts smut#bts fluff#bts fic#bts fanfic
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Morning menace
alpha!Steve Rogers x omega female reader
warnings: none; unless we count early morning (basically night) rudeness
Author's Note: This is a short, silly thing inspired by my own "eagerness" to get up in the morning 😂 Shout out to the always amazing @buckets-and-trees, who often has to hear my grumpiness in the wee hours 😆
Grain of Truth Masterlist
Main Masterlist
There’s an annoying beeping sound that spears through the sweet, comfy clouds of slumber and you clench your eyelids shut harder, hoping that some bird of prey would swoop in and swallow that shrilling monster.
Your pillow moves, adding to the growing annoyance as your subconsciousness tries the hardest to hold onto sleep.
Finally, that irritating sound ceases, but your pillow continues to slip away.
So you tighten your grip on it and move your leg further around the wide, hard breadth of it; clutching it both with your arm and your thighs.
“Come on, babe,” a raspy, deeply masculine voice enters your sleep.
The sound of it is very pleasant, making you hum in delight and snuggle into the warm pillow. Unfortunately, his words are far from what you want to hear.
“It’s time to get up.”
“No.” Your reply comes instantly, your nose scrunching up in detestation.
A low chuckle follows your refusal. Then an arm, which was cradling your back, moves along your spine. A big, strong hand gently grips the back of your neck; his thumb rubbing up and down.
“I’m afraid it really is. We need to leave in an hour.”
“No leaving. Staying. An’ sleepin’.” You grumble and though your eyes are still closed and your mind is keeping you halfway submerged in sleep, you recognize that the pillow you’re partially draped over is in fact your Alpha.
To emphasize your stance on getting up, you roll your body fully on top of him. With a huff, you press your head under his chin and twine your limbs around his massive body.
“I know you hate early mornings, Sweet Brat.” Steve laughs, palming your naked ass with his free hand. “But we’re about to go for vacation, if you remember. Two weeks away. And then you can sleep even till noon. But to get there, we agreed to leave early.”
“I would never agree to such idiotic idea.” You protest, growing more annoyed as your sleep starts to truly fade away the longer you continue conversation with the very rude Alpha.
Steve only snorts. Then attempts to move. To which you respond by clinging harder and giving a small, displeased whine.
The way he instinctively gives a short purr to soothe you has your lips curving in a smile and your cheek pressing against his sternum.
“Ten more minutes,” Steve sighs. “I’ll start a breakfast for us. But not a second longer, grumpy brat.”
You whine again, more petulantly this time, as Steve manages to gently roll away from under you. Your body sinks into the warm spot on the mattress that’s soaked with your mate’s scent.
You instantly bury your nose into it, your body dropping back into a fully relaxed state, so eager to trott back into the dreamland.
“What kind of vacation requires getting up at this ungodly hour? I don’t want a vacation like that.” You try to reach for the covers, but they seem to be too far away. You’d have to open your eyes to find them, but you really don’t want to.
“I’d rather stay here. In bed. And rot.” You mumble into the sheets. “You go on stupid early vacation yourself.”
“You’re worse than Bucky.” Steve gives an exasperated sigh. “And he’s really insufferable before 9AM.”
Giving a little kick with your leg, you turn your face to the other side and reach for a pillow to cover your head with. In case your bossy Alpha decided to lift the blinds and scorch you with morning sun.
Though you were pretty sure there was no sun yet on the horizon. There couldn’t be. It was too fucking early! It was basically still night.
“Then maybe go on this mid-night vacation yourself and send Bucky here to me. We’ll be grumpy together and sleep like normal people do.”
You shriek aloud, your eyes opening instantly, when a brutal sting burns your asscheek. Then another one lands, on the other side of your butt.
Before you get a chance to react to the spanking, Steve grips your ankles and pulls you across the mattress in one, swift move. Your legs dangle over the edge of the bed, feet kicking above the floor. Then strong hands are gripping your hips and you’re lifted into the air.
Steve turns you in his arms, with the skill of a man who’s done that plenty of times, so you’re facing him. It’s body memory, or whatever cognitive reaction, to wrap your legs around his hips as he carries you.
The light in the bathroom turns on, causing your eyes to squint in protest. With another huff, you hide your face in the crook of Steve’s neck. He really smells good in the morning. Damn him!
He eases you down, until your feet touch the tiled floor. He cups your chin and tilts your head up.
“You have fifteen minutes to get ready, Sweet Brat. And if you even try to sneak back into bed, I’ll make sure that sitting through the few hours drive is going to be a real pain in your cute ass.”
You scowl at him, but either your sleepy, straight-out-of-bed look doesn’t help with the murderous effect, or your Alpha simply isn’t bothered by your non-verbal threats.
Quite the opposite, he flashes you a bright smile. Then, still holding your chin in his hand, he seals a short, but rather intense kiss on your lips.
You watch him leave, still glaring. And maybe - but only a tiny bit - ogling.
“Next year I’m gonna opt for staycation,” you mutter under your breath.
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x female reader#alpha!steve rogers#alpha!steve rogers x reader#alpha steve rogers x omega female reader#grain of truth#steve rogers fic#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers ficlet
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Rafe x read share the bed for the first time
Bed Companion
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.5K
Masterlist
Y/N has never shared a bed with a boy before and she isn’t sure she is ready to do it now, but she isn’t going to let Rafe sleep on the floor, not when he paid for the dinner, the hotel room and her car repair. So, the least she can do is let the man she has been on a few dates with share the bed he is paying for with her. This still doesn’t help ease her nerves as she brushes her teeth in the bathroom. She makes sure to go through her nighttime routine slowly to give her time to think and she has never been more glad that she keeps an emergency night bag in her car. After completing what she can of her night routine with what she has in her bag, she changes into her pyjamas and braids her hair. She hesitantly opens the door of the bathroom and stands in the doorway. He looks up from his phone and smiles, “All done?” She nods, stepping further into the room so he can enter. He gets up from the bed and grabs the bag of stuff he bought from the hotel gift shop on his way to the bathroom.
A sigh passes her lips when she hears the door click behind her. Her feet shuffle against the carpet as she heads toward the other side of the bed. She pulls back the sheets and allows herself to slip under them. The covers cocoon her whilst she turns to her side to scroll through her phone.
Ten minutes pass and the bathroom door swings open. He notices her back faces him, which helps him see the rigidness of her shoulders. “I can sleep on the floor if you want. It is really no problem. I’ll need to call the front desk for an extra blanket,” he offers, grabbing the other pillow to put it on the floor She quickly turns to him and sits up. Her hand grips the hand with a pillow, “No, don’t. I promise that I’m okay with this. I just need a second to get used to it.” “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, Y/N/N,” he argues, trying to take his hand out of her hold. Her head shakes, “I’m not. I’m only worried that I might not be the best at sharing a bed. I’ve never done it before besides with my siblings.” He steps forward and a leg comes up the lean against the bed. “I’m sure you are an amazing bed companion. If you aren’t, then I promise to tell you,” he jokes. She giggles and nods. “Okay, well if you promise, then what are we doing waiting around? I could use a good night's sleep after the day we have had.”
“Agreed.” He gets into bed beside her and throws his arm across the top of her pillow. She understands his message and snuggles into his side. Her head rests on his chest. She finds the rise and fall of his chest soothes her. “This is nice,” she whispers. He stares down at her, kissing her temple. “Yeah, it is. Good night.” She presses her face harder against him as she closes her eyes, “Good night.” And tonight is the best sleep Y/N has ever gone until the rest of her night is spent like this one.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#outer banks x reader
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pleasant pile of pillows
kinktober, day eighteen
warnings: brother's best friend!james potter x reader, smut, secret relationship, cuddling, corruption kink, pillow humping, dry humping
word count: 714
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
Blinking up at the door as you heard three soft knocks resonate, the visage of James’ face poking in couldn’t help but send butterflies soaring throughout your stomach.
“Hey, may I come in?”
Hoping that your eyes weren’t too red and puffy, “sure,” you slowly unfurled yourself from the pleasant pile of pillows on your bed.
Closing the door gingerly behind him, he then sat down next to you, “I come bearing gifts,” and conjured a small, red lollipop from his pocket.
Exhausted smile blossoming upon your lips, you grasped the sucker, “thank you.”
“Are you okay?” he asked as you unwrapped the candy and popped it into your mouth.
“Yeah…” you picked up one of the numerous pillows and clutched it to your chest, “I’m really sorry about crying back there, I just can’t stand it when my brother talks to me like that, like I’m just a child… I’m only two years younger than him, but somehow, he thinks I stopped ageing after the age of ten.”
“Hey, I get it,” he attempted to catch your gaze, “if I had a brother who talked to me the same way, then I’d probably cry too.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” a soft giggle bubbled out of you.
“I most certainly would! Like a baby!” his chuckle mixed and mingled with yours for but a second before he offered tenderly, “I’ll talk to him-”
“No, please don’t,” you reached out and grazed his forearm, “because then it’ll just seem like you-”
“I what?” he raised his eyebrows challengingly, “like you?”
Letting out a low exhale as a shiver promptly ran down your spine, “you know he would hate you if he found out you saw me as more than just his little sister, right?”
Reaching out his fingers, he gingerly grasped the stick that stuck out from between your lips, “I don’t care,” eyes locked on your mouth, he slowly retraced the lollipop, only to push it back inside. You were none the wiser to how lewd the motion appeared, simply blinked back at him, solely fixated on the declaration he’d just uttered. Bottom lip lightly encaptured between his teeth, he let go of the sucker and redirected his gaze up to your eyes, “can I stay here while you rest?” his tender touch descended down your arm till his fingers weaved with your own.
With a light nod of your head, “please,” you wrapped your arms around his neck in a warm hug.
Sloping back down onto the mattress, James intuitively slotted in behind you, one arm draped over your waist.
“What if he notices you’re gone?” you asked nervously, wiggling slightly to get more comfortable, the leg you weren’t lying on consequently flinging gently over the firm pillow sprawled out directly in front of it on the bed.
“He’s knee-deep in some annoying boss battle in the game he’s trying to beat,” James’ hand ghosted over your form, nearly tickling you with soft, soothing circles, “he wouldn’t notice if the house was set on fire. You just rest, don’t worry about him.”
As his hands roamed your curled-up form in a comforting dance, the sensation nearly lulled you to sleep.
Nearly.
Because when his fingers began to more frequently skim over your thigh, going far enough to notice the pillow lodged beneath it, he suddenly grabbed a hold of the cushion and wedged it even further up between your legs.
The stationary plush by itself was enough friction against your clothed clit for you to suck in a sharp breath, but it didn’t stop there, as with a fist tight around the corner, James began to rut it against you.
Letting out a soft whimper, it felt like you were floating on a cloud, and when his face then nuzzled against your neck, your hips couldn’t help but bashfully rock back against the pillow.
“James…” you whined wispily, the cherry lollipop nearly falling from your slackened jaw.
“Hm…” his voice vibrated against the rapid pulse on your neck, pelvis behind you grinded a bit closer, driving his hardness against the softness of your ass.
“Y-you’re-”
“It’s okay, love,” a fluttering kiss grazed the shell of your ear as he tugged the cushion harder against your throbbing centre, “just let me help you feel better…”
© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble
#lea’s writing#kinktober 2023#james potter x reader#james potter smut#james potter imagine#marauders era smut#marauders era fanfiction#marauders smut#marauders imagine#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter x you#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter one shot#james potter hc#james potter headcanon#james potter scenario#james potter fanfiction#james potter fic
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I keep thinking about dilf!Felix like him being your besties dad or something….
-🎀
I swear I've been staring at this for so long, debating if I should do a full fic or just some thoughts. Well, thank my dear Azzy @galaxycatdrawz for this, because you made his thoughts go wild. Basically I just had to transform his whole little plan into a fic. There will be 2nd chapter (including smut) but have fun with this for now.🖤
Finding home in your heart
Pairing: Felix x fem!reader (mention of Minchan | Jisung)
Word Count: 7571
Summary: Felix got cheated on by his wife repeatedly and ends up heartbroken after the discovery. His adoptive daughter, your best friend, tells you the whole story and asks you to move in as you're struggling to find a place. Your only problem; you had a crush on Felix for ages and living with him isn't making it easier...
Warnings/Tags: angst, emotional hurt!comfort, fluff, insecure!lix, domestic shit, baking, cuddles, slowburn (ig?), first kiss, age difference (8 years, it's legal since this fic is for adults, chill out)
PART TWO
do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -
Felix’s love life had been nothing but a steady stream of predictable days blending into years. He would have never doubted his beautiful wife and would have never second-guessed her love for him. They had gotten married early and soon found out his wife was incapable of carrying his children. So, after some consideration, they adopted a young girl and raised her like their own. She had grown into a smart young woman, and Felix couldn’t be more proud of her. Given the age gap of only ten years he had always been rather close with her and later you, her best friend.
One night he decided to surprise his wife, coming home early as his daughter was staying at yours. What greeted him wasn’t the usual warmth and coziness of his home but the sight of his wife in a certain setting no man wants to find the love of his life in with another man. For a moment, Felix found himself frozen in place, the safe foundation of his life slowly crumbling away beneath his feet. He whispered her name in disbelief, only to find out that this had been going on for years. Felix felt like his whole life shattered to pieces and the betrayal left an ugly taste of bitterness on his lips. How the hell was he supposed to get out of this?
-
“And then she just left,” your best friend ends her story, and your eyes grow even wider than they have already been.
“You’re kidding?” you ask, shocked.
“Apparently, she said something about how this shit has been going on for years, that she never really loved him, and that she’ll leave until he finds a new place,” she rages on and paces her bedroom angrily. “Oh, and I’m just another burden he talked her into,” she scoffs, and your frown deepens.
“You won’t stay here, right?” you ask cautiously. You can’t imagine she will, but still.
“Oh, hell no. I’ll go with Dad, she can piss off,” she shakes her head and drops onto her mattress. “The perk of being not related to her is that I can push her out of my life for good,” she snorts, and you gently pat her back. “I feel so bad for him,” she sighs.
“It must’ve been a huge shock,” you nod, your heart feeling heavy. Felix has always been kind to you from day one. Whenever your family was struggling, he helped out, even if it was simply by taking you with them to theme parks, the movies, or shopping. Felix was only eight years older than you and ten years older than your best friend, so the older you got, the more he felt like an older friend instead of your best friend’s father. Also, he was stunningly handsome, but that wasn’t relevant right now.
“He’s trying to hide it, but I know how shitty he feels right now,” she tells you worriedly. “I mean, he’s never been with anyone else and-.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” you assure her gently. “He has such a kind heart, I’m sure someone will love him, truly.”
“I will thoroughly check the next person. You’ll have to help me then, go all detective on them,” she smirks, and you agree, laughing.
A gentle knock at the door interrupts you, and Felix opens the door flashing you a tired smile as a greeting before glancing at his daughter. “Channie called, he has a spare place we can have.”
“Just like that?” she asks baffled.
Felix chuckles weakly and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, just like that. I told him I’d pay, but Minho insisted they don’t need the place, and it’s all paid off.”
“How convenient,” she smirks and rolls her eyes. “Typical uncle Min,” she grins.
“Yeah,” he laughs and sighs softly. “You think you can get everything ready in the next few days?”
“You really can’t wait to get out of here, huh?” she laughs, and his smile dies, eyes clouding with pain.
“Yeah, I guess,” he nods and clears his throat as his daughter looks at him apologetically. “Well, let me know when you’re hungry, and we can order something,” he announces, putting on a smile and quickly pulling the door closed.
“See?” she whispers. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
You hum gently and pat your best friend’s knee. “Well, I can help you move, I have nothing to do those next few weeks.”
“You’re so sweet,” she giggles and hops up, ripping the door open. “Dad, Y/nnie says she’s gonna help us move our stuff!” she shouts downstairs.
“Lovely,” Felix shouts back halfheartedly and flinches as his daughter slams the door closed again. “Fucks sake, this woman,” he snorts and stands still in the living room for a moment. He chews on his lower lip as the many memories he made in this very room crash over him like a wave, trying to drown him. “You’re such a dumbass,” he whispers to himself.
“No, you’re not, she’s just a massive bitch,” you speak up gently, suddenly standing in the living room with him.
He blinks at you with wide, confused eyes before a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Mhm, you could say that. Doesn’t make me any wiser, letting her fool me for the past ten years,” he huffs softly and rubs his face. “I just feel bad for her,” he says, and you know he means your best friend upstairs. “All I always wanted for her was a stable home after everything she went through.”
“Look at her, you did great,” you tell him, and he chuckles weakly.
“Yeah,” he sighs. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,” he waves you off and blinks at you surprised as you offer him a hug. He accepts it after a short moment of hesitation and bites back a laugh as you pat his back encouragingly.
“You’ll be okay…she’ll never find someone better, so fuck her. It’s her loss,” you tell him, and Felix snorts before letting go of you and grabbing his phone.
“We’ll see,” he hums softly, subtly bringing some distance between the two of you again. “You’re gonna stay for dinner?” he asks, and you gently shake your head.
“I promised Mum I’d be home for dinner today,” you tell him, and he nods gently.
“You need a ride?” he offers, and you wave him off.
“I’ll be fine, promise,” you assure him and exchange your goodbyes.
One week later
You put down the boxes you carried inside and look around with wide eyes. “Wow, Min wasn’t lying. This place is huge.”
“Right? I didn’t quite believe it as well,” your best friend giggles and puts down her boxes as well.
“Why would I lie about that, huh?” Minho asks playfully offended, adding some boxes on the floor next to yours. “You think we’d give your dad and you some shabby place? You think that lowly of us?”
Chan pokes his side, making him squeak and giggles as Minho playfully raises his fists to fight him. “Relax, no one’s calling you a liar, baby.”
“Sure hope so,” he teases and naturally intertwines their hands, pulling Chan with him. “You haven’t seen the view from up here yet,” he announces and waves you after him.
You follow the pair of them onto the huge balcony, and your breath hitches. From up here, you can see parts of the city and the ocean, and still it’s so peaceful up here.
“How’s your dad, kiddo?” Minho asks your best friend after a moment of comfortable silence.
“Worse than he admits,” she answers, and Minho hums gently. “If you ask me, he’s fucking heartbroken and feels worthless. If you ask him, he’s okay and just a little caught up in his thoughts,” she further explains.
“Give him time,” Chan tells her gently and sighs, looking down at the ocean. “Ten years is a lot, you know?”
The door to the balcony opens, and Felix steps outside, laughing at you all. “Seriously? You’re out here enjoying the view while I’m carrying all those boxes?” he asks, and you all start laughing before hurrying back inside to help him.
Once everything is inside, Minho and Chan give you a tour through the house and you wonder what Felix and your friend would do with all this space. The couple soon leaves again to give them some space to settle in.
Your best friend strolls through the house and frowns softly. “You’re alright?” Felix asks her, frowning softly. “I know it’s not home, but we can make it work, it’ll just need some time and-.”
“Dad, home is wherever you are, relax,” she laughs, and Felix nods, stunned, looking adorably touched by her words. “I just…this place is huge.”
“It is,” he nods. “I have no idea what the hell they had planned for this.”
“Nothing useful, as Min put it,” you chime in, and Felix grins at your remark.
“I’ll feel so lonely here if you’re at work,” she speaks up after a moment, and Felix’s face softens.
“Dear, there’ll be a point in your life when you move out and everything. I won’t always be around,” he says, and she glares at him.
“Don’t say shit like that, you’re only ten years older than I am, it’ll take a while,” she points out, and he snorts but gives in, remaining quiet. “Y/nnie, how’s the hunt for a flat going?” she asks.
“I already told you it’s shit,” you sigh softly, not quite picking up on her true intentions behind that question. “It’s either too expensive or so much out of town it’s not exactly convenient.”
“Oh, you’re going to move out?” Felix asks, busying himself with one of the boxes.
“I want to, my parents could use the space for something else,” you nod.
“Dad?” she asks, drawing out the word with a sweet tone.
“What do you want?” he asks, not even looking up.
“She could move in with us,” she says, and you frown at her. Felix looks up, confused, and tilts his head at her. “She can’t find a place, I worry about getting lonely here…you could use some more company as well before you’re fully depressed and-.”
“Will you stop?” he snaps at her. “I’m not depressed, I’m fine besides the fact that I got cheated on after wasting ten years of my life,” he continues and shakes his head at her. “Stop reading into it that much, I’ll start believing you at this point.”
You lower your gaze at the floor and awkwardly shuffle on your feet. “Gosh, relax,” she sighs. “That just proved my point.”
Felix throws the contents of the box back inside and pushes himself up. “I’m getting some fresh air. And yes, you can move in if you want to, it’s not like we’d lack space or whatever,” he says before leaving the two of you.
“Nice one,” you sigh softly.
“What?” she groans and rolls her eyes. “You know I’m right.”
“And that makes it better?” you chuckle, and she huffs softly. “Fine, fine, I’ll go apologize…but would you?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh softly. “I’d feel like I’m intruding,” you argue gently.
“Never,” she shakes her head firmly. “Also, you’re here every day anyway, so nothing changes,” she grins before sighing softly. “Dad?” she shouts, and you roll your eyes at her.
Should you? Move in with your best friend and her heartbroken, conveniently handsome adoptive father? That could only go wrong, right?
You join them on the balcony and sigh softly, meeting your best friend’s eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
She shouts in joy and pulls you into a tight hug, hopping excitedly. “You’re the best best friend I could’ve ever wished for!”
“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckle and roll your eyes playfully, catching Felix smirking at the two of you.
Three weeks later
You hum to yourself as you make your way from the kitchen to the living room area. Your best friend is staying the night at her boyfriend’s, and Felix is out on Stray Kids duty, as you jokingly call it. So, for now, you have the whole house to yourself. You moved in fully about two weeks ago, and your new room is bigger than you ever dared to imagine. There’s an attached bathroom as well, and your few things look ridiculous, trying to fill up all that space you have now.
You grab your phone and check your messages before scrolling through some news. Refreshing the page, a new article appears on top, and you realize it’s about Felix. Curiously, you click on it, and your eyes widen, realizing it’s about what happened with his wife. You read through it and smile sadly; Felix seems to have tried putting it as respectfully and vague as he could. You don’t support what that woman did for years one bit, but you also know how their fans can get so you’re glad Felix tries to stay neutral in public.
You glance up from your phone as the front door opens downstairs, and Felix comes up the stairs only a little later. Looking at him, you can tell he was crying, and your heart sinks to your stomach, seeing how tired he looks. His eyes meet yours, and you swallow softly as he stops in his tracks as if he just remembered you live here as well. “You’re okay?” you ask softly, and for the first time in weeks, Felix shakes his head.
“Not really, no,” he admits, his voice a little raspy. You can tell he’s fighting back tears, and you gently pat the spot next to you on the sofa. Felix momentarily searches your eyes before moving forward and dropping down on the sofa next to you. “I know it’s my own fault because I took off my wedding ring but I didn’t expect them to ask already,” he tells you quietly and nervously fidgets with his hands. “Chan told me to be honest before she comes up with something that’ll drag me down.”
“I think you’ve handled it quite well,” you tell him gently, and he groans in response.
“Already online, huh?” he sighs, and you hum softly. Felix throws his head back against the sofa and stares up at the ceiling. You can’t help but take in his side profile and let your eyes wander down his neck. “I hate this.”
“Hate what?” you ask gently.
“I have to have an explanation for everything as if I’d know why she cheated. Maybe it’s because I’ve been gone often with all our schedules. Maybe she got bored. Maybe she just saw past that facade of fame and sunshine behavior and realized I’m not as lovable as everyone thinks I am,” he huffs, making you frown at him. “Maybe she never loved me in the first place, and I can’t even blame her for that.”
“Stop it now,” you scold him firmly and Felix turns his head, blinking at you. “Have you ever considered that maybe she’s just a massive bitch and there is absolutely nothing wrong with you?”
“Not really, no,” he shakes his head and sits up straight again. “That’s rather unlikely, isn’t it? There’s always a reason people cheat.”
“Sometimes it’s simply stupidity,” you insist. “Not everything is your fault, Felix.”
“Why does it feel like it then?” he asks quietly, and your heart breaks at the desperate glint in his eyes. “Why does it feel like I’m the one who fucked it all up? And why doesn’t she care one bit, and I’m here feeling like complete shit?”
“Because you loved her,” you say quietly and watch his face fall. “She didn’t try to make it right, did she? She didn’t protest when you suggested a divorce.” Felix shakes his head, eyes brimming with tears. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe she never loved you for who you truly are. Maybe all she saw was the fame, the money, the places you went to…but how is that your fault?”
“I…I should’ve known,” he says quietly, his lower lip quivering a little.
“You can’t know that shit if they’re good at hiding and pretending. Who knows how long she could’ve kept up that show if you hadn’t come home early that day?” you ask, and Felix avoids your observant gaze, staring down at his hands. “The only thing you’re at fault for is beating yourself up for this and thinking you’re worthless.”
Felix remains quiet and presses his lips together tightly as hot tears run down his cheeks. His hair falls into his face as his head hangs low, and you can only tell as he sniffles softly. You hesitantly reach out for him and rub his back soothingly. Felix whispers an apology and buries his face in his hands, a quiet sob rippling through his body. You don’t know where you get the confidence from, but you move before you can reconsider what you’re about to do. Wrapping your arm around him, you pull him into a warm embrace and gently rub his shoulder. Felix tenses up briefly before he relaxes into your touch, allowing himself the comfort you spend.
It doesn’t last for all too long, and Felix pushes himself off the sofa, messily wiping his cheeks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t-,” he stammers and exhales shakily. “I shouldn’t dump this all on you.”
“I don’t-” you start and shut your mouth as he raises his hand to stop you.
“I know you don’t mind. I know,” he says and shakily wipes his cheek. “That doesn’t make it any better. I appreciate you trying to help, but I’ll go before I start unloading even more nonsense,” he sniffles and flashes you a sad smile. “Thank you, though.”
“You’re welcome,” you nod gently and watch him leave. Only then do you notice your heart racing in your chest and the wet patch of his tears in your sweater. “So much to keeping boundaries, Y/n,” you scold yourself, rubbing your face tiredly.
Felix closes the door to his room and buries his face in his hands with a soft groan. “What the fuck are you doing?” he whispers and stands still for a moment. What is he doing, sobbing in his daughter’s best friend’s arms? Is he going insane? Felix closes his eyes and tries to forget how comfortable your hug felt, how good you smelled, and how soothing your presence was to him. “Fuck,” he whispers into the emptiness of his room.
One week later
Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as you walk down the hallway, clutching your visitor pass. Your best friend asked you to pick up Felix from work tonight because she had to work late and would then stay at her boyfriend's again. Would he think weirdly of you for it? He's been avoiding you a little after that emotional breakdown a week ago, and you can't blame him.
You reach Chan's studio and knock gently, letting yourself in.
“Oh, Y/nnie,” Chan greets you cheerfully.
“Haven't seen you here in a while,” Minho adds curiously.
“Yeah, uh, I have to pick up Felix,” you say, and they frown.
“I thought-”
“No, she's working late and staying at her boyfriend's or something like that,” you shrug your shoulders.
“She asks you to move in so she isn't lonely and leaves all the time,” Minho shakes his head, amused. “Well, at least someone's keeping an eye on Lix, then.”
“Mhm, yeah,” you nod. “Where is he?”
“In the practice room down the hallway. Uh…he's in a shit mood today,” Minho tells you.
“Define shit mood,” you chuckle.
“Everything is shit, nothing works, he's useless,” Chan sighs softly and shakes his head. “We tried.”
You sigh heavily and roll your eyes. “Fine, I'll do my best.”
“Good luck,” Chan giggles.
Only a little later, you open the door to the practice room and slip inside. You frown as you spot Felix stretched out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “I swear, Channie, if you're here to tell me another bad joke that's supposed to make me laugh, I'll snap,” he announces.
You stop next to him and tilt your head at him. “Not Channie,” you say. “What's that supposed to be?” you ask, vaguely waving at his current position.
“It's my new favorite yoga position called utter depression,” he says dryly and throws you a peace sign. “That's I'm a failure, what's your name?”
“Chan wasn't lying,” you nod slowly.
“Did Chan call you? Seriously?” he asks, sitting up on his elbows.
“No. In fact, it was your lovely daughter asking me to come pick you up. She's working late, and then she'll stay over at her boyfriend's.”
“I still can't believe she asked you to move in so she wouldn't be lonely, and now she's barely home,” Felix snorts and groans softly.
“Mhm, you guys are repeating yourselves, Min said the same thing,” you tell him and gently poke his side with your shoe. “What's going on, Mr. utter depression?”
“Nothing, as you can see,” he sighs. “I fucked up during practice today. Minho only didn't call me out for all the mistakes because he felt sorry for me at the time,” he tells you.
“And that led you down the good old road to self-hatred?” you ask, sitting down on the floor next to him.
“Maybe,” he answers vaguely.
“Surely,” you correct him. “Lix?” you ask gently, and he turns his head toward you. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No,” he shakes his head as his eyes trace your features.
“We could take a walk and grab some food on the way. We don't have to talk or anything. It's just for you to clear your head and empty all that garbage you keep up there,” you tell him, tugging a small smile at the corner of his lips.
“Yeah, okay,” he nods.
You exchange your goodbyes with Min and Chan, who secretly throw some hearts your way when Felix isn't looking. Idiots.
-
After that evening, it all got easier again. You didn't talk much that day, but the fresh air, bright lights, and warm food had lightened Felix's mood immensely. Over the following two weeks, you two grew closer, and Felix allowed himself to be more open. With your best friend gone quite frequently, it was often only you and him.
The more time you spent together, the more you realized how ridiculously perfect Felix was. His beautiful brown eyes, soft features adorned by all those sweet freckles, and blond hair falling around his face made your stomach flip. His sweet smile and even prettier laugh made you feel like winning a trophy every time you were the reason for it. He's so kind and polite that it makes your head spin.
Felix can't quite stop himself from looking at you whenever you don't notice. The more time you spend, the more he notices how beautiful you are. How caring and gentle. Your smile brightens his days and he can't fully shake the longing to be in your arms again off. He hasn't felt as comfortable around someone in a while, and there's a lingering worry in the back of his head telling him that he really shouldn't allow himself to fall for you. It only gets worse watching you doing the most mundane things and wishing that you wouldn't leave again.
-
Another two weeks later your best friend announces she'll be abroad for a holiday with her boyfriend for two weeks. Two weeks. It'll only be Felix and you for fourteen days. That thought wasn't helping your anxious heart, trying not to fall for him at all.
You decided to make the best out of it and forget about your worries. Seeing Felix smile again was all that counted.
The first morning, Felix tiredly strolls down the hallway from his room and stops in his tracks when he sees you at the stove. A sweet scent lingers in the kitchen, and he realizes you're making pancakes for breakfast. His heart picks up pace, and he takes a deep breath, reminding himself to act normal. “Morning,” he says, not knowing that his even deeper morning voice sends shivers down your spine.
“Good morning,” you smile at him, bright as ever. He has to look somewhere else to stop himself from blushing. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” you tell him, and he hums softly.
Felix sits down at the kitchen island and watches you thoughtfully. It's ridiculous how used to your presence he got over the past few weeks. Almost as if he couldn't imagine it any other way anymore. “Do you have any plans for today?” he asks and you shake your head as you put the pancakes on a big plate.
“Why?” you ask curiously and turn off the stove.
“Uh, I was thinking about painting her room since she wanted a new color so badly…I was wondering if you'd like to help?” he asks nervously.
You put down the plate and nod. “Sure, why not?”
Felix flashes you a sweet smile and thanks you as you hand him a plate with some pancakes. They're so fluffy they almost melt on his tongue, and he has trouble biting back a moan. “Oh, they're amazing,” he tells you and notices the subtle blush settling on your cheeks.
“Thank you,” you smile almost shyly.
Seriously, can't you give him a break?
-
After breakfast, Felix takes a quick shower, and you put on some clothes that could be ruined by the paint. You meet again in your best friend's room, and you smile at how soft Felix looks in a pair of gray sweatpants and a wide sweater. You pull all the furniture away from the walls, covering everything up before Felix shows you how to apply the paint properly. In the beginning, you're both quietly working and it feels peaceful, just focusing on painting for now. Then Felix starts talking, trying to kill the silence. “I signed the divorce papers yesterday,” he says casually, and you need a moment to figure out how to answer.
“Congratulations?” you chuckle, and he laughs, realizing how out of pocket this has been.
“Sorry, that was pretty random,” he apologizes.
“No, it's fine. I'm glad you did,” you say, and he glances at you, making you ramble on quickly. “I mean, it's the right thing to do. Did you settle on anything? Does she demand stuff?”
“If she doesn't want my legal team to be less nice about the reason we're getting a divorce than I was, then she won't,” he tells you and sighs softly. “She has the old house, and I don't have to pay her anything. I'm glad when we're done with the whole process,” he admits tiredly.
“I bet you are,” you nod gently. “You deserve some peace after everything,” you say, and he hums softly, pressing his lips together briefly. “We can stop talking about it,” you assure him gently, and Felix nods thankfully.
“We need more paint,” he states.
“Well, we should let this dry anyway for today,” you nod and flash him a gentle smile. “We could go buy some more and then call it a day?”
“Sounds good,” he nods, rubbing his face tiredly, and turns toward you fully now.
“You've got some paint on your cheek,” you say, and he blindly reaches out to wipe it off. He doesn't quite get it and you step in front of him, reaching out for him. “Let me help,” you say and gently rub your thumb over his cheek, wiping the still fresh paint off.
Felix freezes in place, staring at you as you do so. He feels like the world stops for a moment but then your soft touch is already gone again. He exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding in and follows you outside. Fucks sake.
-
You wander through the store next to him and you end up buying some more stuff to decorate the house a little more. Felix's phone rings and you can tell it's Chan by the way his face lights up. He nudges your side after a moment. “You're hungry?”
“I could eat,” you nod.
“Min and Chan ask if we wanna stop by,” he tells you, and you shrug your shoulders.
“Sure, why not?”
Only shortly after, you reach their house, and your eyes widen, spotting the two small kittens on the carpet. “Oh, you have new ones?” you ask excitedly and Minho looks at you as if he's going to hit you.
“Or not?” you ask, chuckling.
Chan gently pokes his cheek and grins at you. “Yeah, we got them like a week ago,” he nods, and you crouch down as they make their way over.
“Can I hold them?” you ask, looking at Minho, and his face softens.
“If they let you,” he nods and tells you to sit down on the floor.
He picks up the first one and gently hands it over to you, making sure you hold it right. “He's usually very calm, so if you don't move too quickly, you should be fine,” he tells you and sits down, grabbing the second one. “She's a little rascal,” he smirks and gently scratches her head.
“They're so tiny,” you say, amazed.
“Here, he loves those,” Chan says, handing you a little treat.
You hold out your hand for the kitten, and he doesn't waste much time. You giggle at his tiny tongue licking over your palm and beam at Minho excitedly. Chan passes Minho and gently runs his hand through his hair mindlessly. Minho smiles softly and looks up at him so full of love you can't help but wish you'd find someone you shared the same type of deep love with. “Wanna help me set the table, Lix?” he asks, and Felix hums, following him, not after a quick glance in your direction to make sure you're alright.
Soon after, you're all gathered around the table, and you all thank Minho for cooking. Chan glances at Felix after a while and seems to debate whether he should ask what's going through his head. “Lix?” he asks, and his friend turns toward him. “How are you holding up?”
“I'm fine,” he smiles tiredly, and you know the question starts to bother him by now.
“You said that from day one,” Minho chuckles and tilts his head at him.
“No, I am. I signed the papers yesterday and then soon it'll all be over,” he explains.
“Have you met anyone new?” Minho asks curiously. “I mean, it's been almost two months.”
“Mhm, after ten years of a fake marriage. I still have time, don't you think?” he asks sourly.
Chan steps in, trying to ease the mood. “We're just worried about you getting lonely, Lix,” he tells him.
“I'd rather be lonely than that,” he says and rolls his eyes at them. “Not everyone finds the one and lives happily ever after from day one on,” he says, looking at the two of them.
“That's hardly realistic, nothing was perfect from day one,” Minho shakes his head.
“Not really, no,” Chan snorts and winks at him.
“Well, you're not me, so…,” Felix says quietly, and the mood changes.
“Meaning?” Minho asks patiently, even though you can tell he’d rather punch some sense into him.
Felix puts down his chopsticks and sighs heavily. “I'm way too emotional, I'm too shy to approach anyone or initiate anything further, I mess up stuff constantly and-.”
“Will you stop?” you cut him off, and everyone looks at you as if they're remembering you're still here. “You keep on talking shit about yourself, and you don't even realize you're letting her win.”
“I'm not letting her—” he frowns. Chan is about to speak up, but Minho stops him, resting his hand on his.
“Yes, you are. She used you for years, and you're still letting her by making it all your fault. As if she had no other choice but to go off and fuck around with whoever she found moderately fuckable,” you say, and he blinks at you, stunned as Chan chokes on his breath. “You're talented at what you do, you're hardworking, and you're one of the most caring people I know. You didn't have to, but you always made me feel at home when I visited your daughter. You haven't done any differently since I moved in, and as long as you aren't talking shit about yourself, you're pretty funny. And-.”
“Y/nnie,” he says softly, and it's the first time he's called you that. “Eat up; it's going to get cold.”
You quickly shut your mouth, ears burning up as you realize you've just been pretty open in front of Minho and Chan. “Yeah, okay, you better shut up then…respectfully.”
“Message received,” he smiles gently.
Minho raises his eyebrows and glances at Chan before moving his eyes between the two of you. Chan frowns before his eyes widen, and he squints at him. Minho widens his eyes and puts on a little passive aggressively encouraging smile, signaling him that, yes, he is VERY right about this.
“You can stop the eye fuckery over there, I'll get sick,” Felix calls them out, and you frown softly at Minho's mischievous grin.
“Y/n, what about you?” Minho asks curiously.
“You're playing cupid as a side business, or what is this?” you ask right back.
“Simply interested,” he gives back.
“I'm single if you must know so badly, and no, my self-esteem isn't drowning as much as Lix’s,” you say, and Felix pokes your side, protesting softly.
Chan watches you quietly before glancing at his husband and humming softly. Minho simply smirks.
Later, when it's time to leave, you hold your hand out for Felix, and he tilts his head at you questioningly. “Keys, please,” you smile.
“Huh?” he asks, amused.
“You had two drinks, I didn't have any, and I'm driving,” you tell him, stretching your hand out once more.
“Listen to her, Yongbokie,” Minho tells him, and Felix gives in and hands you the keys.
-
“That was really sweet,” Felix says, almost too quiet to hear.
“The kittens?” you giggle.
“Mhm, yeah, they too,” he nods and glances over at you. “I meant what you said…I uh... thanks.”
“Oh,” you nod and feel your heart warming at the softness in his eyes. “I meant it.”
“I know,” he whispers and can barely meet your eyes.
“You should give yourself more credit. Try seeing yourself through the eyes of the people you mean something to from time to time,” you say, parking the car in front of the house.
Felix looks at you, a little stunned. “I mean something to you?” he asks softly.
“Well, of course you do, Lixie,” you smile and lean over, brushing his hair back for him.
“Yeah?” he asks, eyes traveling down to your lips before he can fight it.
“Mhm,” you hum softly and search his eyes. Suddenly, you move forward and your lips meet in a soft kiss that has him melting in his seat. He reaches up to bury his hand into your hair and-.
“Felix? Felix, wake up,” you say gently.
“Huh?” he asks confused.
“Wake up, Lix, come on,” you say softly, daring to brush a loose strand from his face. “Come on, let's get you upstairs.”
Felix blinks at you drowsily and needs a moment to realize he's been dreaming—dreaming of kissing you. His face burns up red with embarrassment as your gentle eyes meet his, and he shoots out of his seat. “Yeah, sorry,” he stammers, and you watch him a little confused.
“You're okay?” you ask, closing the door for him.
“Sure, why wouldn't I be?” he asks, laughing nervously. Don't look at the lips. Don't.
“Man, you're weird when you get woken up,” you shake your head and unlock the front door, letting him in. Felix stumbles taking off his shoes, making you laugh. “Is alcohol having such an effect on you?”
“Mhm, yeah,” he lies, spotting his lifeline.
“Well, let's get you to bed then,” you say and gently pat his back, shoving him inside.
“I'll make it on my own, thank you,” he quickly says and wishes you a good night. He throws himself face forward onto his bed and groans into his blanket. “Fuck, no, Lix, you can't.” He turns onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, brushing his fingers over his lips. Groaning softly, he fumbles for his phone; he needs some clarity now.
“It's late, what the fuck, mate?”
“Jisungie, I fucked up,” Felix whines softly.
“Oh, please don't tell me you're drunk,” Jisung sighs softly. “Do I have to pick you up somewhere?”
“No,” he quickly assures him. “I just…there's this certain someone I can't stop thinking about, and…Ji, it's wrong!”
“I don't like the sound of this,” he states calmly. “Go on.”
And Felix does, spilling all his hurt, feelings of emptiness, and worthlessness. Telling him how you mend his heart, fill his entire being with happiness, and make him feel loveable. He confesses how he can't stop thinking about you, worrying how messed up this could get.
Jisung lets him ramble on and nods gently once he's done. “That's fucked up, mate.”
“I know,” he whispers.
“No, I don't think you know how bad that bitch fucked you up,” Jisung says, and Felix is too stunned to speak for a second. “Fucks sake, Lix! Where's my pretty boy getting all the girls, huh? When did you get all shy and scared? Did she fuck up your self-esteem that badly?”
“Ji, you're missing the point here,” he insists. “Everyone would think I'm using her, she's eight years younger. They'll make her a victim and-.”
“Lix,” he cuts him off firmly. “I'm that victim you're describing here, you do know that, right? My hubby is ten years older, Hyune’s wife is six years younger, and no one gives a fuck,” he tells him. “The thing you really can't take is the fact that she's your daughter's best friend.”
“That surely doesn't help,” he groans.
“Well, technically-.”
“She's my daughter, you can try and twist this how you want,” he shakes his head. “And she'll hate me if I act upon my feelings for Y/n.”
“All she wanted was for you to be happy. Why not with Y/nnie?” he asks gently. “Listen, buddy, you gotta figure out what you really want and then act accordingly. Stop sending her signals if you don't want this to evolve into something more.”
“I know,” he sighs softly. Fuck.
-
“Can you get the eggs?” you ask him as you pour some sugar into a bowl, weighing its content as you do.
“Sure,” Felix nods and his hand rests on your lower back for a brief moment, notifying you of him standing behind you to stop you from bumping into him.
You swallow softly at the lingering touch, and it's already gone again before you can't think much of it. Felix got home from the studio about an hour ago, and you two decided to surprise your best friend with a cake for her birthday tomorrow. At least she had planned to come back again for it. After quickly buying the ingredients, you two got busy in the kitchen. He's unusually clumsy, your hands brushed against each other four times already since you've started and you already bumped heads, both wanting to grab something off the floor he dropped. The brief touches and his soft eyes combined with that shy smile are slowly driving you insane.
Once you're all done you put it in the oven and set a timer, cleaning up the kitchen for now. You'll still need a few things for the icing later but you get rid of most of the mess for now. After loading the dishwasher, the 25 minutes are over, and Felix carefully takes it out. You leave it there to cool and throw yourself on the sofa.
Felix joins you and turns on the TV, putting on the next episode of the series you've recently started watching together. After a while, your head slowly drops onto his shoulder and it takes him a moment to realize you fell asleep. He cautiously wraps his arm around you to make you more comfortable and lets you rest against his chest. He tries not to think too much of it and chews on his lower lip nervously as he tries to pay attention to the screen.
As much as he tries to fight it, he's exhausted from their intense practice today, and his eyes grow heavier with every minute. It doesn't take long and he falls asleep as well, getting more comfortable and dragging you down with him in his sleep.
You wake up in his arms, your head resting on his chest. Your eyes widen in shock, and you fight the urge to jump up and get as far away from him as possible. You barely dare to lift your head. Glancing down at him, your heart skips a beat at how soft and vulnerable he looks in his sleep. His chest is slowly rising and falling, his hair hangs into his face and he looks so soft it makes you want to squish his cheeks. You admire the beautiful freckles painting his face as the fading sun caresses his golden skin. Gosh, he's pretty.
He moves in his sleep, tightening his grip around you and rolling you both onto your sides. Burying his face in your neck, he lets out a content sigh and pulls you in close. You bite your lip and curse yourself for wanting this so badly. You should really wake him up…but you couldn't. Not when he had a long day and finally got some rest. Not when he looked this content and peaceful. You couldn't.
You timidly rest your chin on his fluffy hair and wait for a moment, but he doesn't seem to mind. Carefully, you fondle his back and rest your hand between his shoulder blades. He doesn't stir one bit, and you decide to try sleeping some more as well.
-
You wake up again when he stretches in your arms, pulling back with a soft groan. Felix squints at you drowsily before he slowly picks up on your current situation. A blush creeps up his neck and colors his cheeks and ears. He pulls away and rolls onto his back with a soft sound, rubbing his face tiredly. “Sorry,” he mumbles.
“For what?” you ask gently.
“Uh…this,” he awkwardly gestures between the two of you. “I uh…I tend to get cuddly when I fall asleep. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or-.”
“You didn't,” you say firmly, and he slowly glances at you.
“No?” he asks quietly.
“Not at all,” you assure him, and he hums gently in response. “You seemed like you needed it, so I let you sleep a little longer.”
“Oh,” he nods dumbly and searches your eyes timidly. “Okay.”
“Yeah,” you nod and smile at him. “I think we can finish the cake by now.”
“Probably,” he laughs and sits up.
The pair of you soon gets busy in the kitchen again and Felix turns on the mixer to finish the icing for the cake. It's a little too fast, and some of it lands on his sweater. “Fucks sake,” he curses softly before slowing it down.
You laugh at him, and he turns to you, raising his eyebrows. “Oh, you got some on your face,” you giggle and step in front of him. You cup his face gently with one hand, rubbing your other thumb across the icing on his forehead. “Keep still, Lixie,” you say and don't quite notice his lips parting at the new nickname. You move further down, wiping the bits on his cheek off, and only then you meet his eyes. They're wide and filled with thousands of questions and insecurities. “You're okay?” you ask worriedly.
Felix blinks at you before very slowly shaking his head. “I'm not okay,” he says, and you turn off the mixer, bathing the room in silence.
“What's wrong?” you ask and want to pull your hand off his face, but his hand wraps around your wrist keeping you there.
“I…,” he trails off, sinking deeper into your eyes, and you can see the sudden longing in them. It's pure and innocent, making you all dizzy the longer you look at him. “You're driving me nuts,” he confesses.
“Breathe,” you tell him before experimentally brushing your thumb over his lips. He exhales shuddery, eyes fluttering close at your touch. “Can I kiss you?” you ask.
“What?” he squeaks, eyes snapping back open.
“You heard me,” you say and tilt your head at him. “Can I?” Felix gulps before nodding timidly. You close the distance between the two of you, and your lips brush against his. A soft, quiet sound escapes him and then you're cupping his face and kissing him. Felix melts into the kiss, body searching yours as he grips your waist and stumbles a little, shoving you against the kitchen counter. He pulls back only to catch his breath and presses his forehead against yours. “You're okay?” you ask again. This time, he nods.
“Yeah,” he whispers with a soft smile. “I'm okay...”
PART TWO
MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
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Random thought:
You and August Walker sneaking out of a work party to get some time in his private office.
Zombie
Well, Zombie, I'll tell you what I think would happen...
Title: Executive Temptation
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader
Word Count: 2.4K
Summary: You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?
Warnings: (responsible) alcohol consumption, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie
A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist
When the elevator dings and the doors open, he holds out an arm to let you enter first. As you step inside, you catch the eye of your coworker, who is making an obscene gesture with her hands. You can’t exactly blame her. You did just get into an elevator with the damn CEO of Walker Logistics LLC.
That’s right. You and August Walker are in an elevator on the way to his private office to speak more discreetly.
A million different things went through your mind when he first asked you to step away to his office, and it showed on your face when you first stuttered through an excuse to stay at the party.
“Tell you what, why don’t we just continue our conversation about your ideas over better booze than what they have down here? I’ll behave as long as you do,” he offers, his sonorous baritone washing over you like a warm bath.
It was more than easy to agree with him; he just had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the room.
As the elevator lifts, August leans against the left wall while you stand in the center. You try to maintain the silence that is only interrupted as the floor indicator dings every few seconds. The anxiety of feeling like you have to perform is strong, and you want to come up with something that he will find interesting.
But all you can come up with is, “You know, you can’t say happiness without saying penis.”
August’s head whips to you so fast, you think his neck may have broken. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Sometimes, when I’m nervous, I spout useless trivia. It’s the worst superpower,” you admit, hoping he would let it go.
“Sex is ten times more effective than Valium. So, maybe we shouldn’t be so coy,” he hums, pushing off of the wall and coming to stand next to you when the elevator stops.
When the doors open, you are greeted with quite a sight. The entirety of the top floor is closed off by walls, except for his secretary’s desk, which sits just outside double doors.
You are so surprised by the fact that you are in the CEO’s space that you just gawk at everything while staying in the elevator. It’s only when August stops the doors from closing on you that you close your mouth and follow him to the doors to his office.
Once they open, you’re greeted with a modern office space with two conference rooms around the left and right corners. His L-shaped desk sits in the center of the room, and the polished ebony wood stain reflects the lights of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the back wall. A leather sofa and armchair set that seems rather inviting fills the carpeted area in front of the mini-bar. You spy the bookshelves that line the right and left walls and wonder to yourself if he’s even read half of them.
Walking around the desk, your feet carry you to the right bookcase. You read the titles of book after book about business and the economy. How fucking boring!
From his spot at the mini-bar, August gets your attention. “So, what would the lady like to drink while she snoops?”
“I’m not snooping. Just looking,” you advise, your fingers swiping the various spines as you walk toward him. “And I would love some bourbon if you have it. No ice.”
“I think I’ll join you,” he remarks, retrieving two lowball glasses and a decanter of the amber liquid. Pouring about two fingers into one glass and then the other. He takes both glasses and places them on the glass coffee table that sits between the sofa and the two comfy chairs. He picks up his drink and turns to you. “What shall we toast to?”
The anxiety running through you is replaced by lust as you join him on the couch, close enough to feel his body heat. Pheromones must be wafting in the air because he smells like sex on legs. You bend forward to pick up your bourbon, and the top of your dress reveals some cleavage. Out of the corner of your eye, you see August tilt his head as he sneaks a peek.
“To not being coy,” you insist, offering your raised glass.
August clinks his glass with yours and says, “To not being coy.”
You both take a sip and when you put your drink down after a sizable gulp, August mirrors you and sits back against the couch. You turn, and he is watching you with hungry eyes. Now or never, you think to yourself.
Leaning in, you kiss the smirk right off his face. His soft, pink lips part and his tongue licks into your mouth. Deepening the kiss, you allow him entry and massage his tongue with yours as you move to his lap. His hands caress your thighs before sliding up your leg to land on your hips. You know what he is after, so you start to rock your hips and are awarded with a deep rumble of a groan from August.
With his hands grabbing onto your ass, you grow bold and swivel your hips once, then twice. As August bucks up into you, you whimper, and he breaks the kiss. Maintaining eye contact, he reaches up your dress and stops when his fingertips touch your panties.
“May I take these off?” he asks, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as he looks up at you.
“Fuck, yes,” you yelp, your desire becoming too much to handle.
With your permission, he pulls them down your legs as far as they will go with you kneeling in his lap. Positioning you to lay back on the couch, he removes them completely, then dives in between your legs with his hands wrapped around your thighs to hold you close.
He kisses your inner thighs before focusing on your wet pussy. To say he must have been starving for you is an understatement. The way he licks from your hole to your swollen nub was just this side of overwhelming. Swirling his tongue around your pearl, he waits until you begin to buck your hips to take your clit into his mouth.
Your hands go to his hair, clutching his chestnut locks as he sucks your soul out of your body. You’re near tears when he slowly inserts a finger between your folds. You barely hold yourself together as he strokes your inner walls, paying attention to the inner bundle of nerves that drives you wild.
Inserting another finger, he picks up his speed while massaging your G-spot. Listening to your body, he knows that you are on the very edge. One wrong move, and he could ruin it completely.
But, lucky for you, he knows what he is doing.
He lets your clit slip past his lips, changing his tactic. Flicking his tongue up and down on your bud while adding a third finger to stretch you out, he puts on a master class at foreplay. Within moments, the hold you have on your faculties is all but forgotten as you are brought to orgasm. Your walls clench around his fingers, and he continues to play with your sweet spot. The noise of your sopping hole echoes in the office.
“That’s it; let it go. Such a good girl for me. So fucking delicious, too,” he praises, talking you through it. “You sound so fucking sexy right now.”
When you come down from your high, August is right there to kiss away the tear that escapes your eye as he caresses you. Your entire body is afire with sensations. His hands on you feel feather-soft. Looking up into his face, you can’t help but bring him down to kiss him. The kiss starts slow, but as it continues, tongues and teeth make an appearance. He nibbles and sucks on your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep in your throat.
He breaks the kiss again to kiss and nip at your jaw and neck. You wrap a leg around his waist, shoving your hand between you to stroke him through his slacks. The groan from him at the contact radiates through you. You can tell he has a monster under those clothes, and you want it.
Echoing his politeness from earlier, you speak up, “May I?”
“Please,” he gushes, sitting on his heels to give you better access.
You unzip and unbutton him, reaching inside to take him out. You thank him silently for prepping you with three fingers, because damn. The uncut snake in his pants is heavy in your hands. While you want nothing more than to have it inside you, you would also love to gag on it. August’s hand under your chin lifts your face until your eyes meet.
“As much as I would love your pretty lips around me, I need to be inside you,” he implores, his thumb ghosting over your lips. “I promise you can choke on it later.”
You gasp as he removes your hand from his dick and pushes you slightly to lay back down. He throws your legs over his shoulders, lining himself up with your core, before pushing in slowly. He takes his time, letting you get used to being so filled and allowing him to adapt to your tight heat.
Folding you into yourself, he retracts his hips and thrusts forward. You groan in unison. Pulling out until just the tip remains inside you, he slams back in, kissing your cervix with his cockhead. He picks up the speed, and you can hear how fucking wet you are. The sloshy slaps of flesh on flesh are enough to have you close to orgasm already.
The entire room smells like sex, and it is intoxicating. Your gasps and whines as he fucks you only spur him on to help you chase after your climax. Parting your legs, he grips your thighs, fucking into you harder and faster. The look of determination on his face has you reaching down to play with your sensitive clit.
He swats your hand away in favor of using his fingers to make you cum around him. It happens quicker than you planned, a testament to his expertise. He fucks you through your release, your overworked pussy leaving cream all over his cock. He slows down to a more intimate pace as you come back to yourself.
You tangle a hand in his messy curls and pull him down to kiss you. With your hand on his hip, you urge him to move again. He kisses you deeper as his hips pick up the pace fucking you. You swallow every grunt and grumble from his thrusts. When his lips part from yours, you see the want in his eyes. You know he’s close by the way his hips stutter and his dick twitches.
Tightening your legs around his waist, you push your heel into his ass, and he gets the hint.
“You want my cum? Ugh, fuck, I’m so close. Shit! Argh, fuck,” he gasps, his cock spasming as he spills inside you. He collapses on top of you with his face in your neck, and you rub his back while he comes down.
Once his softening length slips from you, he grunts and picks himself up to sit back on his heels. He watches as his cum leaks out of you and licks his lips. He gets up and tucks himself away before motioning for you to stay right where you are. He grabs a towel from the mini-bar, coming back to clean up his mess from between your legs. He tosses the towel on the coffee table and picks up his drink to take a sip.
“I wasn’t lying earlier, you know,” he discloses, moving to sit down when you pull yourself into a seated position.
“Huh?” you ask, wracking your brain to find out what he’s talking about.
“I still want to hear your ideas on how to expand our market reach. I mean, you don’t even work in our marketing department, and your ideas have my attention,” he praises, his voice sincere in tone.
“I do have a few ideas on how the company can grow,” you beam, happy to be noticed. “But I think I’d like to discuss that first thing on Monday. Right now, I’d rather enjoy this bourbon and spend time not talking about work. If you don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind at all,” he affirms, sipping his drink before smiling at you. “I am actually looking forward to Monday for a change. But before then, would you let me take you to dinner? I promise there will be no work talk.”
You look into your glass, swirling the amber liquid while you think about it for all of three seconds. “I’ll let you take me to dinner on one condition,” you advise, a smirk playing on your lips.
“And what would that be?” he asks, his arm going to the back of the couch.
“You let me choke on it before tonight is over,” you flirt, holding in a giggle.
The way his eyes darken is a thing of beauty. He lowers his drink from his lips and says, “Fuck, where did that coy little thing go? I’m not complaining, by the way. I’ll make sure you get a taste; don’t you worry.”
You suddenly feel very warm, and you can’t believe this man is real. You wonder how his words can make you want nothing more than to kiss him until you can’t breathe. You put down your glass after downing the last bit in one go. Liquid courage, don’t fail me now, you think to yourself.
August puts down his glass and leans back. You crawl into his lap again, a knee on either side of his hips. Entwining a hand in his hair, you lean forward and capture his lips again. This time, the kiss is slow and sensual. Your tongue dances with his until your lips touch again. Nipping at his bottom lip elicits a whimper from him that is music to your ears.
His hands move to your ass, gripping the globes as if his life depended on it. When one hand leaves, you only miss it for a second before it lands back on your cheek with a slap. You moan into his mouth, and you can feel the rumble of a chuckle in his chest.
He’s got you right where he wants you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
A/N: This story was super fun to write. I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!
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Isn't She Lovely
~Isn't She Lovely by Stevie Wonder~ Author's Note: Requested Summary: Stadium Series Family Skate with Nico, his wife, and his daughters Warnings: one swear word Word Count: 923 Nico Hischier x fm!reader
It was a special day for the team as it was the Stadium Series family skate. Nico was especially excited because he was able to bring his girls with him. He had two daughters, his eldest was five years old and his youngest was only ten months old. His eldest, Mallory, was ecstatic to be there. She loves skating and hockey. She wants to be a professional player, just like her dad.
She began skating about six months ago and already has so much confidence on the ice. She is an ice skater and plans to do both. Her mother knew that she could become an amazing hockey player from also being an ice skater.
Y/N sat beside Mallory as she bounced her youngest daughter, Chloe, in her lap. Nico kneeled down in front of Mallory, tying her skates for her. “Hurry,” Mallory groaned out as she kicked her feet back and forth. Nico chuckled as he dodged the tiny blades.
“Stay still, my sunshine,” Nico let out as he took a hold of her tiny calf. She giggled as she kept her legs still. Y/N tilted her head back as she smiled widely towards Mallory. Y/N held her two fingers out, letting Chloe grip her fingers as she babbled excitedly.
After a few more seconds, the skates were tied and ready to go. “Ready, Mal?” he asked, smiling widely. She nodded, pushing off the small bench. “Okay,” he said, chuckling. He took a hold of her, lifting her in the air.
“Mommy, look!” Mallory said excitedly as Nico carried her towards the ice. Y/N stood up, holding Chloe to her side as she walked towards the ice as well. Nico delicately placed Mallory onto the ice and with zero hesitation Mallory began skating alongside the wall.
“Oh shit,” Nico mumbled, resting his hand onto Y/N’s hip for a second before he got on the ice and skated after Mallory. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully.
“Come on, my love,” Y/N whispered towards Chloe as she cautiously skated onto the ice. Her eyes watched Nico skate backwards in front of Mallory. He easily caught up to her. He leaned towards her, smiling widely. “You see Daddy?” Y/N pointed towards the opposite side of the ice. Chloe babbled excitedly as her eyes moved around excitedly.
“Mallory watch out,” he let out excitedly, dodging the other families skating around.
“Sorry!” Mallory shouted excitedly as she continued manuvering around the ice.
“Mal Mal look at you, kid!” Jack shouted as he started skating beside Nico. Mallory smiled widely as she leaned forward, trying to skate faster.
“Hi Jack!” Mallory let out as she furrowed her eyebrows harshly as if it would help her skate.
“She’s skating really good,” Jack let out, shocked.
“Oh yeah, she’s starting hockey in the fall,” Nico muttered with a wide smile. Jack’s eyes widened as he slapped his hand against Nico’s arm.
“Oh yeah, future hockey star over here!” Jack shouted, pointing towards Mallory. She blushed as she slowed down as she covered her mouth with her hand.
After lapping the ice a few times, Nico took a hold of Mallory’s hands. He pulled her towards the side beside Y/N and Chloe. “Let’s skate with Momma and Chlo for a bit,” Nico let out as he leaned down beside Mallory. She pouted slightly but took in a deep breath. Nico skated close to Y/N and met her gaze for a few seconds.
“Crazy, right?” he asked as he poked Chloe’s cheek. Y/N nodded as Nico leaned towards her, kissing her for a few seconds. “Come here, my love,” Nico said as he reached for Chloe. Y/N smiled as she handed Chloe over to him. He kissed Chloe’s cheek, a giggle leaving her body.
“I’ll chase her around for a few laps,” Y/N mumbled as she kissed Nico’s cheek before she gave Mallory a thumbs up. She didn’t hesitate as she began skating and manuvering through the ice.
“Hi,” Nico mumbled towards Chloe as he slowly began to skate.
“Nico, can we interview you?” the camerman, said coming up beside him. Nico nodded excitedly. He stopped and turned towards the camera. “Who’s with you today?” he asked.
Nico smiled widely as he looked towards Chloe, “I’ve got all my girls with me,” he muttered, “My wife, my daughter Mallory and this is Chloe,” he said excitedly.
“Where’s your wife and your other daughter?” he asked.
Nico glanced around, “Not sure,” he chuckled while smiling towards the camera, “My wife is chasing after Mal.”
“Any hockey in the future for your little ones?” he asked. Nico nodded dramatically.
“Mallory is definitely gonna be my hockey player,” he said while laughing, he watched her skate behind him, pumping her little arms hard as she skated between each of the different families. “She’s starting in the fall, she’s so excited as you can see,” He said as he pointed towards her. The cameraman switched the camera towards her.
“What does today mean to you?” he asked.
Nico nodded excitedly, “My daughters don’t get to come to a lot of the games. So having them experience a bit of what I do every day is amazing. It’s also fun to have my teammates meet my kids and skate around with them,” he expressed.
“Dad! Dad! Race me!” Mallory shouted as she skated behind him. Nico smiled towards the cameraman as he handed Chloe back towards his wife.
“Okay, my love,” Nico let out excitedly.
#nico hischier#nico hischier x reader#dad!nico#nico hischier x y/n#nico hischier imagines#new jersey devils#nhl imagines#nhl#nhl x reader#nhl fic#hockey#jack hughes imagines#nj devils#new jersey devils fic#new jersey devils x reader
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Hi ml! I saw that you did cuteness aggression for the greasers platonically and I loved it! I was just wondering if you could maybe do Dally Winston with a really smiley reader whose smile like literally lights up a room, and a smile he loves and he gets cuteness aggression from it? This can be a fic or just head cannons if you want! Thank you so much beautiful!
then he kissed me (request)
authors note: i’m glad you like my cuteness aggression hcs!! sorry this is kinda choppy but slow at the same time. thank you for requesting this, it was super fun to make so i hope you enjoy 💗
dally x reader
word count: 2.5k
warnings: cussing, slightly suggestive, unintentional aggression
you awoke from your deep sleep, a loud ringing noise coming from your nightstand. you sighed, the ringing still continued so you turned to your side and moved closer to the side of your bed.
you wondered, ‘who could be calling me this early?’ it was seven in the morning, you wanted to get up around ten so you could make some sweets for the gang.
after some pondering, you carefully picked up the telephone, groggily mumbling, “who is this..?” you then heard a distinct but gentle laugh coming from the other side of the line.
“awh, doll… did you just wake up?” dally asked, a slightly teasing tone to his voice. you smiled at the nickname, one he would call you often. you missed being in the warmth of his arms, as you were the night before.
you replied, “mhm… i miss you, dal…” he chuckled softly, knowing you would always act like this. always missing him, somehow even when the two of you were together.
“miss you too, sweetheart… say, uh, me and the guys are gonna be hangin’ at the curtis house, ‘round two, you wanna come?” he asked, secretly hoping that you would be there. at the moment, he dreaded to be apart from you. he wanted to be with you as soon as possible.
you thought for a second and appreciated your boyfriend was considerate enough to invite you. you then gasped, “aww, you wanna see meee? i’ll go then, i wanna see you too!” blushing at the thought of the two of you physically being together.
dally smiled at your comment, when he first met you, he didn’t exactly love how happy you always were. he later grew to love it, you had changed his mindset and he started to look forward to every day in the future.
“i got some errands to run, doll. i’ll let you go back to your beauty sleep.” he replied, not quite answering your question although you already knew the answer.
you sighed, “okay, thank you. don’t do anything that’ll get you in trouble. love you, handsome.” you always loved to compliment dally, it’d obviously boost his ego, but he wasn’t even aware that he was completely wrapped around your finger. he was head over heels for you.
“mm… can’t promise anything. look forward to seeing you, doll. go to bed.” he hung up, you put the telephone back on the stand and sighed. you set your alarm for ten in the morning, still wanting to make sweets for the gang.
you turned once again to sleep on your back, closing your eyes and calming down, thinking about what could happen at the curtis house. you had a hard time falling asleep, you turned to your other side to see the dip in the bed where dally once was. moving over to his side, you curled up into a ball, falling asleep only a few minutes later.
a recognizable beeping sound filled your ears, the sound of an alarm clock. you turned to your side, eyes still closed when you reached your arm to press a button and turn the alarm clock off.
you kept your eyes closed for a few more minutes, still not fully awake. you then opened your eyes and put your cheek on your pillow, staring at the wall.
you slowly sat up in bed and swung your legs over the side. gently brushing hair out of your face, you stood up and stayed there for a few minutes, not yet ready to walk around.
when you were, you began to walk to the bathroom, opening the door and walking in. you picked up your toothbrush and turned the water on, placing it under and turning the water off, once again. pulling out the toothpaste out from drawer, you put some on your toothbrush and began brushing your teeth.
after two minutes, you took the brush out of your mouth and spit out the toothpaste. you rinsed your mouth out with water then rinsed your toothbrush. you placed it on the countertop and walked out of the room.
you walked down the hallway to the stairs, going down step by step. once you were downstairs, you began to take flour and other ingredients out of the pantry. once all of them were on the counter, you began to make chocolate cupcakes for the gang.
you mixed the ingredients together and poured the batter into individual cupcake sections after lining each one. you put the cupcake pans into the oven, timing it to bake for twenty minutes.
as it was baking, you made chocolate icing to put on top of the cupcakes themself. you thought of dally, how you missed him dearly and you wanted him to love the cupcakes you were making. when the timer beeped, meaning the cupcakes were done, you stopped the timer with a button and opened the drawer, grabbing mittens. once you put them on, you opened up the oven and pulled the cupcake pans out, you gently placed them on a rack to cool down.
because the cupcake icing was done, there was nothing else to do besides wait for the cupcakes to cool off. while they were cooling down, you put a vinyl on to play, a single made by the crystals. ‘then he kissed me,’ it was called. it reminded you of you and dallas, how he could be so cold to others but was an absolute sweetheart to you.
as the music was playing for a few minutes, you looked at the clock, it was around eleven. you hovered your hand over the cupcakes to see if they were the right temperature, heat wasn’t radiating off of them. you grabbed a piping bag and put the icing into it, icing each cupcake individually.
in order to finish it off and make it look perfect, you took a small container out to the cupboard. it was filled with pink, red and white heart shaped sprinkles. you grabbed another container next to it, one that was filled with bigger pink sprinkles, shaped like bows.
you sprinkled the hearts onto the cupcakes, making sure they all looked nice and equal before putting it down. you then poured the bigger bow sprinkles into your hands, in your opinion, each cupcake only needed one because it was larger than the other sprinkles. you individually placed the bow sprinkles on the frosting, getting some on your fingers and licking it off.
you then backed up from the counter and looked at it, satisfied with your work. you bent down to get a big container, putting it on the counter and placing the cupcakes in it. you left one for yourself, taking off the liner and eating it. you were surely pleased with how it tasted and how it looked, you just hoped the gang would like them too.
grabbing a lid from the cabinet, you put it on the container and opened the fridge, putting it on one of the shelves. you looked back at the clock, it was around 11:40. you had around an hour and a half to rest before you had to get ready to go to the curtis house.
in that hour and a half, you finished a book that you’ve been wanting to read again. when you glanced to the clock, it was around 1:10, you closed your book and placed it in your nightstand.
you then get up from your bed and walk to your dresser, opening the drawers and pulling out a shirt you know dally likes. grabbing bottoms of your choice, you pick up some white socks that would look good with your heels.
you began to get dressed. as you were brushing your teeth, you walked outside your bathroom to once again, check the clock. it was around 1:40, almost time for you to drive to the curtis house. when you were done brushing your teeth, you walked downstairs and to the kitchen. you opened up the fridge, gently taking out the cupcake container and placing it on the counter.
you then walked to the entrance of your house, grabbing your heels and putting them on your feet. as you walked back to the kitchen, you grabbed the cupcake container and your keys.
walking outside and therefore exiting your house, you locked up the house and continued walking to your car, parked in the driveway. you unlocked your car, opening the door to the drivers seat and putting the cupcake container in the passengers seat.
as you began to drive in the direction of the curtis house, you saw your boyfriend seemingly walking to your house. your eyebrows furrowed, wondering why he was here.
he looks in your direction as you pull over, closer to him. he leans into the rolled down window and puts his hand on the roof of the car, “hey, baby..” smiling at you sweetly.
you smiled at him back, blushing once again at the nickname and asking, “why are you here, hun? it’s not exactly safe for you to be in a soc neighborhood. don’t want you to get hurt, dal… no one’s following you, right?”
he mumbles at the beginning, “worried about me, huh, baby..? don’t think anyone’s following me, and if someone was,” he leaned in closer to your face, lips only a few inches apart, “i’d beat the shit out of them, you know that.”
looking up at him, you order, “get in.” gesturing to the passengers seat, you grab the cupcakes container and gently place it in the back seats.
he states, “yes ma’am.” and walks around the side of the car, opening the door and sitting in the passengers seat. he notices how the seat is perfect for him, his legs aren’t as cramped as they used to be.
you state as you begin to drive, “pushed the seat back for you ‘cause you used to complain about it so damn much.” he rolled his eyes, smiling and gently placing his hand on the hem of your shirt, fidgeting with it.
at a stop light, you’re behind a few cars when dally leans over and softly grabs your face, turning it towards him. he kisses you gently and continues to go back for kisses, him initiating contact until cars behind you start to honk.
the light has already turned green, you pull away from the kiss and drive to the curtis house. the two of you arrive at the house, you park your pink car nearby, trying to somewhat hide it though obviously failing. dark colors are all around, the odd one out is a light pink mustang on the side of the road.
you get up out of your car, opening the back door and picking up the cupcake container and carrying it. dallas is right behind you, making you jump and he chuckled because of you. you lightly bump his shoulder, mumbling, “shut up.”
he gently grabs the container from the bottom out of your hands, beginning to talk to you and asking what’s in the container. you state, “oh, they’re chocolate cupcakes! pony and soda are always talking about chocolate cake, so i guessed they’d like chocolate cupcakes too! decided to bring some for the whole gang.” you smile up at your boyfriend.
he smiles down at you, “ain’t you a peach? you’re too sweet for me, doll.” he loves how sweet you always are, you always thought of others before yourself, wondering if things were safe before letting yourself and others do something. too good, too pure for him. all of your kindness made people attracted to you, romantically and platonically. he was so glad the gang accepted you right away when he told them the two of you were dating.
you continue to talk as your boyfriend looks at you, love apparent in his eyes. he opens the door up for you, letting you walk in first. loudness quickly fills your ears, two-bit exclaiming, “the fuck? dally’s opening doors for people, being a gentleman? since when?”
your boyfriend closed the door behind him, “since y/n came along, dipshit.” he replied. darry, two-bit, soda and steve greeted you and dally as the two of you came in. as you walk to the kitchen, you gently take the container out of dally’s hands, thanking him for carrying it. you then place it on the counter, johnny and pony immediately swarming around to see what you have.
“hey, y/n, whatcha got there?” johnny asks, pony agreeing and greeting you too. you smile at the both of them, dally’s hand moving to your waist, rubbing soothingly up and down.
you softly reply, “oh, it’s just chocolate cupcakes. you guys can have some if you want, it’s for all of you—“ you paused, really looking at johnny and asking, “oh, johnny, what happened to your cheek? are you okay?” you’re concerned, he had told you it was a few socs who beat him up, rings cutting his face.
as dally listens in on the conversation, observing you the whole time, he feels a sense of aggression while you were concerned for johnny. he doesn’t know how to describe it, he doesn’t want to actually hurt you, but he needs to find a way to relieve the emotion he was feeling.
so he grips your waist a little harder, pony looking at the point of contact and whispering to johnny, “think we should leave. they’re gettin’ a little handsy.” causing his friend to also look at the point of contact, he grins and looks at dally. “we’ll be in the livin’ room.”
the two walk away chuckling with each other while you don’t know why they left. as soon as the two of them turn their backs, your boyfriend kisses you on the cheek then to the lips. he slightly pushes you towards the counter, continuing to kiss you.
“you’re so adorable, baby… so important to me…” he mumbled in between kisses, your hands on his chest. you wince at the pain on your waist, mumbling, “dal, you’re hurting my waist a bit. little softer, hun.”
he softens his grip at your command, whispering an apology. the two of you were interrupted by darry loudly stating, “hey,” trying to get your attention, “you do that, you go back to your damn house.”
you look back, sensing dally was trying his hardest not to physically hurt you. the both of you chuckled at the interruption, you leaned into your boyfriend, tilting your head up to get a kiss from him. this time, the kiss was soft and passionate, savored.
once the two of you pulled away, you were once again, interrupted, this time with many boys running into the kitchen to try the chocolate cupcakes.
#the outsiders x reader#the outsiders#dally winston x reader#dallas x reader#the outsiders dally#dally winston#dallas winston#dallas winston x reader#dallas winston oneshot#dallas winston fluff#winstonsns
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Bad bad wolf
Prompt: Gojo accidentally scared you during a mission and now he's begging you to open the bathroom door and let him talk to you.
Content: Gojo/Reader, angst, cursing, ooc.
div. plutism - masterlist
It was an accident. You knew that. A curse got too close to harm you and he snapped for a second, letting go of his goofy attitude and showing you a side of him that you had yet to meet. He checked in with you, he double checked, and then he triple checked, worried about you being injured or scared of the situation or... him.
You told him you were fine, that it was all good, you were just in shock still —about the curse, of course. You just needed a shower. So he cared your cheek and kissed your palm and drove you home so you could take your bath.
But now you couldn't bring yourself to open the bathroom door.
You rubbed your face and tried to stop your mind from derailing.
I mean, c'mon!
Gojo Satoru was a prophecy made flesh, he was the most powerful sorcerer in Japan, maybe the world. Of course that meant he was dangerous, that he was lethal. I mean hell, you were lethal and your curse technique wasn't even that good.
And you knew Satoru was an asshole with a loose moral compass, and that his silliness was more of a tool of provocation and manipulation than anything else.
But it was different— to actually see it.
Raw power.
Cold blood murder in his eyes and a maniac smile.
A snap of his fingers and life just... vanished as far as the eye could see.
The joy he got from it.
But for God’s sake! It was Satoru. Kisses on your forehead Satoru. Fart jokes Satoru. Pouty lips for cuddles Satoru.
The meaner thing he had ever done to you was putting salt on your coffee as a prank because you weren't the first person to wish him happy birthday! He had never lifted a finger against you. Then why were you so scared?!
The doorbell rang and you heard the front door opening and closing. Satoru began singing some made up lyrics about chinese food that included a falsetto. You heard him walk up to the bathroom door and knock on it, a smile on his voice.
"Babe, food is here!" he said.
You were wrapped on a towel, damped, looking straight into the mirror and trying to calm yourself down. Satoru, it's just Satoru. What's your problem?
His voice echoed on the tile of the room and on your temples. You were suddenly too aware of the water drops falling from the shower head and the cold, wet floor under your feet.
"You have been there forever, babe. Everything alright?"
I'm not ready.
Just breath.
You walked to the door, counting to ten in your head. Just go and open it, you will be fine. He will hug you and everything will be fine.
I want Satoru.
As you extended your hand to the handle, it shaked slightly, catching you off guard. You inhaled sharply and quickly moved to hold it in place.
"I'm alright", you said quickly, a little bit too aggressive even— maybe? Shit, it was an accident, I’m sorry. "I'm fine," you added, trying to be softer this time, "just give me a minute, love. I'll be right out."
"Mmm? Of course, baby."
You heard his footsteps getting away from the door and the clatter of the dishes as he probably set the table for you two. He continued to talk to you through the door.
“Ijichi is already messaging me about another assignment.” He sighed dramatically. “I never get a break, what would these people do without me?”
You heard him turn on the TV and lower the volume to keep it in the background as you liked it.
“One of these days we should ditch them and go on a vacation. What do you think? Fall off the map for a month or two, that would do wonders for my back! We could go to the beach~” Satoru kept walking around, you heard the rustling of clothes as he took off his uniform and put on something clean. “Drink cocktails under the sunset~”, he continued, his voice fading as he left to another room and increasing back again when he returned to the living room area.
“I’ll ask Nanamin to take care of my assignments, he still owes me a favor or two.” You heard the sound of Satoru opening one of his wine bottles.
His voice, that you often found so silly and even sweet, suddenly felt as if it carried a layer of an uncovered threat.
You noticed that you were shaking slightly.
You tried to repress it, sing to yourself, and tell yourself a joke, but nothing had any effect and your legs became weak; you sat on the toilet to prevent yourself from falling.
Time passed, maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour. Satoru had run out of conversation and had fallen into silence. The wait must have been long enough, since the next thing you heard was Satoru right behind the door again.
“Pumpkin pie, I don’t mean to hurry you but dinner is going to get cold!”
You stayed still, hugging yourself to try and find some comfort. Your whole body felt like freezing, and you pinched your skin in a nervous tic without realizing.
"Do you need help with anything? Is it your hair? Do you want me to help you dry it, love?"
Your breathing picked up, an anxious feeling kept bubbling under your skin, making your body suddenly uncomfortable. There was a hint of something in his voice but because of your now rising panic it was hard for you to decipher what it was.
Wasn't the bathroom a little bit too small? Is there really no other way out of here other than that stupid door? Do people hate proper windows on bathrooms that much?
"Love?"
You turned around and glanced at the mirror.
Why are you freaking out?
"Babe?"
You heard the doorknob again and the bathroom door unlocking.
Out of reflex, you slammed it close again.
Silence.
The longest minute.
"Do you need a towel?” Satoru’s voice was oddly cheerful in an awkward attempt to ignore what you just did. “Is that why you don't want me to come in?", he asked, even if he had walked on you naked several times already and that had never been a problem between you two.
Your tongue was too heavy to speak.
"I'm going to go fetch you a towel, okay baby? Be right back."
You felt like crap. You felt like shit. You felt like you couldn't breathe.
Were you really making that big of a deal out of this?
You were embarrassed. You were scared. You wanted to leave. Open the door, push Satoru to one side and bolt. Leave this house.
"I'm back with the towel!" Satoru sang.
It was hard for you to stay quiet, it was hard for you to keep your lungs filled with air, your breathing should be audible now even at the other side of the door.
"Love?"
Your eyes were tearing up.
Satoru paused waiting for an answer but you couldn't mutter any.
"Baby, I'm going in." His tone deeper, not wanting to play his usual façade anymore. He tried pushing the door open again. You pushed your whole weight against it to keep it close.
A hiccup.
No.
No, no, no. Be quiet.
You bit your lip.
Love, please just give me a moment. You prayed to yourself.
A ruffling sound, then he knocked twice.
"Baby, what's wrong, would you let me in, please?", he asked softly.
Please, just wait. Why can’t you wait until I’m ready?
"I'm okay!" You repeated. "Just give me a second."
On the other side Satoru heard your voice tremble.
Fuck.
He buried his hands on his hair and pulled.
Fuck.
He knew he should have kept bothering you about it. You still looked like you were in shock, you were still clearly processing what had happened.
Earlier that day he was told about a case he had to look into. It was a silly little curse, they said, but because there was no one else available they asked Satoru to go, and because he wanted to take you out on a whim, he called you to come along with him.
He was so busy playing around with the weird looking thing, putting on a show for you, that he didn’t notice anything odd about it until later on.
It had the general shape of a human except with longer arms and legs. It moved slowly so as not to lose its balance because of its long limbs. In a rush of excitement as your eyes were glued to him, he moved around it and used his flashiest kicks and punches. He was usually childish for the fun of it, but knowing how much it made you laugh, sometimes it got to his head and turned him actually stupid.
He was more aware of where you were and where you were looking at than he was aware of the curse. He noticed that something was about to go wrong from your expression first rather than by seeing it by himself.
When he turned his head around to look back at the curse it had doubled in size. He was in a jump midair and trying to process what was happening, it took him a second longer to realize that it had suddenly launched at you two with greater strength. At that moment, he was in an awkward position to stop it and whatever move he made would be delayed by a fraction.
He saw it as it happened in slow motion.
It was something outside of your league.
It was suddenly so much faster and wilder, nothing like the slow guy he had been dancing around a second ago.
It noticed the difference in power and you being the most vulnerable of the two.
You and Satoru were separated by a considerable distance. Its form morphed once again. It moved forward, opening a mouth full of raiser teeth, and splitted into two. One half moved in Satoru’s direction and tried to corner him, and the other— jumped aiming at your throat.
Satoru saw red.
When he came back to himself, the woods burned and there was a gaping hole on the earth where the curse had been. He turned around to ask you if you were okay, and as soon as he did his blood went cold. Your eyes were wide open, one hand covering your mouth, the other holding your stomach. Horror.
He was no stranger to that look. Many people looked at him as if he were a monster after they realized what he could do with so little effort. He enjoyed it, sometimes. He didn’t care most of the time. But now he realized he had made a terrible mistake.
Truth be told, when you came about he started to be a little wary of it. He wasn’t hiding it, his reputation preceded him, you were meant to find out about it sooner or later. He was just more cautious. He tried to not overdo it anymore, especially in front of you; he would make up excuses so you couldn’t come with him to certain missions and he would keep a close eye on the noisiest pair of elders so they wouldn’t run their mouths in front of you.
After you came into his life, the title of the strongest was more annoying than ever. Hunting, even. It caught your interest, it always caught everyone’s interest, but how many could look at him the same before and after witnessing what it actually meant?
His heart beated heavily on his chest.
He untangled his fingers from his hair, clearing the lump on his throat, making sure to keep his tone non-threatening.
“I’m not going to open it, baby. You can come out when you’re ready. I will sit right here, yeah?”
Nothing.
Satoru pressed his eyes closed, thinking full speed what he should do next. He was surprised by the rush of adrenaline that embedded his system. His body was instinctively ready to kick the door open but he held himself back. He had to keep a cool head, he needed to avoid scaring you further.
Think.
A sob came out from the bathroom.
No. No, please, don’t cry.
“Love, please. Let me give you a hug. Open the door for me.”
He had been too careless. He needed to apologize properly. He needed to see you and reassure you that he loved you more than anything and he would never hurt you. But at the same time –he realized– he was scared to see that same expression on your face again.
He held both hands to each side of the door frame, letting his head fall. What you two had was still fragile, it was still too early for a problem this size.
He was scared.
He had no right to try to hold you back just yet when this didn't even have a name. He was sure he wanted to keep you with him, he had known for a long time before he approached you to ask for a first date.
It was delicate.
Gojo Satoru was a god, they named him that and so stripped him away from his humanity; like so, he grew up empty. He was scared you could see that, how far away he was from human.
It was dangerous, for you and for him since no matter how many people talked about the lengths of his powers he came to know by experience that there were many things he could still not reach nor control. So many people wanted so much from him, and he attracted so many others with ill intents. On his darkest night he felt the strings that picked at his skin, holding to his limbs. An all powerful puppet.
But he met you and he was fool enough to think he could try.
He placed his hand against the door and called your name in a whisper.
“Please, please, open the door, love.”
But could he really let you go without giving a fight if you rejected him?
“I'm sorry. Please give me another chance. Please talk to me.”
Could he fight this greed that grew on his chest everytime he was around you?
“I would never, ever hurt you–”
His voice cracked.
He felt pathetic.
The reporter talking on TV warned the public of intense rains to come, and the most powerful sorcerer felt his eyes prickling and gritted his teeth.
Around you he didn't feel like the titan that people talked about and recoiled from. He was the Satoru that had been lost along the halls of the Gojo estate as a little kid, and the Satoru that was healed and held before he lost half of his soul later on. He felt complete again. Person again.
But what if he lost all of it. Again. Because of all his power. Again.
His head fell forward as the door opened, just an inch, taking him by surprise. Your eye picked through the crack, your cheek was covered in tears.
He blinked and stared, feeling his heart break by seeing you like this.
“Hello.” He said, a lame attempt to break the silence.
“I'm fine, I promise.” Your voice trembled on every word.
He sighed painfully.
Satoru straightened his posture and held a hand to the door. You visibly trembled and gave a step back, you looked like you wanted to protest but didn't say anything.
He opened the door completely and stepped into the bathroom. You followed his every move with your eyes, you tried to fight back the worst of your instincts, the ones that told you that this man could always do as he wished with you and you wouldn't be able to escape it.
He moved his arms up and you guessed he was going to go for a hug. It was hard for you to reciprocate just now, so instead you closed your eyes and nodded, to let him know it was okay.
But you didn't expect to be hugged by the waist, his head on your stomach.
You opened your eyes with confusion. Satoru was kneeling over the bathroom floor, hugging your legs with his head buried on your towel.
“I swear” he said in all seriousness, “I will never hurt you.”
He squished a little bit more, almost making you fall out of balance.
“I swear”, he repeated.
You felt his desperate grip, and as his fear sinked in, your's wavered, and you could finally feel how truly wrong you were about fearing this man.
“Satoru…” you called.
“Mhmm?” He said but didn't look up the way you wanted to so you could see his dazzling eyes.
You buried one hand in his silk hair and carefully ran your fingers through it. “Love, look at me.”
He refused, pressing his face harder against you.
You kneeled instead. There were you, with your face covered in tears with nothing but a towel, and Satoru with wet sweatpants on the damped floor and refusing to let you see him. You hugged him and felt his heart beating fast against his chest matching your's.
“I am the one who is sorry.” You whispered.
He held you with all his strength, almost leaving you out of air.
“I believe you. I don't know why I reacted that way. But I promise I believe you and that won't happen again.”
His breath shook against the skin of your neck. You run your fingers along his nape, reassuring him. He nodded and kissed your neck before ultimately raising his head and looking at you.
There were no tears but his eyes shined brighter. You held his face with both hands and brought him down so your noses would touch. The way he looked at you with those eyes, as if you were the most precious thing he had ever seen. You saw it clear as day, you had nothing to fear.
You moved closer so your lips would touch just slightly, “I love you, Satoru”, you said.
“I love you too”, he whispered.
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not fair | matt sturniolo
contents: established relationship, arguing, strong language, angst.
synopsis: reader gets broken up with the boyfriend. matt is reader’s best friend and is secretly crazily in love with the reader. matt visits the reader for comfort but it turns into an argument because matt is tired of the reader leading him on, teasing him, making him think that the reader likes him back.
-
Matt’s phone kept ringing and ringing.
‘Yeah?’ he finally picks up.
‘He broke up with me’ i sobbed.
‘I’ll be there soon’ Matt firmly said
‘My parents are home, wait for me in the car’.
‘Okay. I’ll be there in ten minutes’.
after 10 minutes
Matt has pulled into the driveway, i was already standing outside, next to the huge tree where the car was being parked. Matt turned off the engine and unlocked the car.
I opened the door and got inside the passenger seat, closing the door and immediately turning my face to you.
‘Thanks for being here’.
Matt lazily smiles as he softly speaks
‘Always, you know ive got your back.’
I smile at him as I pull him into a hug.
He melts into the embrace as his fingers softly tangle into my hair and caress the back of my head.
I tilt my head to look at him, my head softly resting on his shoulder. He looked at me through heavy lidded eyes as he continued caressing my hair.
‘You’ve always been so beautiful’ he whispers out.
I felt like my throat has blocked. I couldn’t get any words out. I felt his body shifting closer to me, his face inches apart from mine.
I lift my head up as I pull away
‘No’ i firmly protest
Matt was caught off guard, betrayed.
���I thought you came here to comfort me. Not try to pull a move on me’.
Matt let out a bitter laugh, a frustrated sigh.
‘What’s so funny?’ i ask with a worried tone.
‘What’s funny is that after all these years, you still can’t understand’ Matt snaps.
‘Underrated what?’
‘Oh cmon. You’re not that naive’ he snaps again.
I shook my head in a no motion, not wanting to hear his words.
‘Friends don’t look at each other like we do. All the sneaking around we did even when you were still together with him. You would always vent to me multiple times about him. I lost count on how many times we almost had sex when you would come over’
‘Please. Please stop talking’ i tried to defend myself but i couldn’t.
‘No. I won’t. Because I’m tired and sick of not having what I want. And what I want is you. I always have. I just couldn’t say it. And now I’m having the guts to finally say it’ Matt spoke angrily, almost out of breath as he said his last sentence.
‘Matt..’ i softly whisper.
‘I just couldn’t bare of the thought about losing you. I didn’t want to lose you as a friend even if you didn’t feel the same’ Matt admitted.
His fingers slowly came up to my face, moving the strap of my hair that was in my face behind my ear. He kept his hand there, his gaze was on me.
His gaze dropped to my lips for a few seconds and then back to my eyes again.
‘Please..’ Matt whispers. He was desperate. Aching. His voice was filled with longing.
I looked into his eyes. My gaze dropped to his lips as well and then back to his eyes again.
‘If you keep looking at me like that. I might lose control now’.
With that, I closed the distance between us. Matt’s hand immediately tangled into the back of my hair, bringing my body closer to his. My fingers digged into his hair as well, gripping on them desperately as the kiss became more urgent. Soft moans were escaping his lips as he deepened the kiss every second.
By the time he pulled away, both of us were out of breath.
He softly caressed my cheek as his thumb brushed over my bottom lip.
I smiled at him, as I rest my forehead against his.
‘Could have told me sooner’.
Matt softly chuckled as he nuzzled his nose with mine.
‘That’s not fair. I couldn’t cuz you weren’t mine then’.
#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#sturniolo triplets#matt stuniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo#viralpost#angst#mattslutt
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GINAAA MY GIRL!
Sending you a dadstarion prompt because you already know I LOVEEE your dadstarion content.
How did Tav find out she was pregnant with baby Gale? And how did Astarion react to the news?! Inquiring minds want to know.
To have and to hold.
Such a lovely prompt, my friend! Hope you like it!
Summary: Astarion turned mortal a few months ago, and this is his first-time experiencing illness of any kind. Unfortunately, as soon as he recovers, you start to show signs of sickness as well. Your condition is a bit different from his, though. (For more of this series check out the ‘Dadstarion’ section of my master list.)
Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, domestic af, fluff, talk of illness, talk of vomiting, the mildest of angst with the mostest of comfort, pregnancy, etc.
A/N: I work in healthcare, not law, so I can’t guarantee the legalese is accurate lol.
Word count: 2.3K
-----
“Don’t come closer, darling, I’m disgusting.” Astarion groans from where you find him one morning, curled up on the bathroom floor.
It had been a few months since Gale of Waterdeep cast Wish, and from that moment until now the retired rogue had been a happy, healthy mortal. There were so many benefits to curing his vampirism that the elf never fully considered one of the major downsides… illness.
He’d never experienced a malady like this in his life. At least not in the one he could remember.
It’s horrible.
How had his little love or any of his friends endured this, more than once, in the past ten years?
Astarion is quite certain he contracted food poisoning from that questionable slab of salmon he ate at the Blushing Mermaid yesterday evening. He never did understand why you liked eating at that lowbrow tavern in the first place.
You crouch to examine your husband, pressing a soothing hand onto his forehead before running it down to cup his cheek.
“Astarion, my love, you have a fever.” You murmur, frowning with concern as you push sweaty curls from his face.
“Please make more obvious observations, dear,” Astarion gripes as he forces himself to sit up, still clutching his stomach. Gods, the vile churning in his gut is incessant.
He’s about to continue on with his quip, but the sudden urge to be sick forces the elf to shut up and scramble to the toilet. You hear the sounds of violent retching moments later.
“We are never going back to the Blushing Mermaid,” Astarion grumbles once the wave of illness subsides. His face is pressed against the toilet; all sense of decorum is gone. The rotten fish poisoning his insides won over any bits of pride he might have been clinging to.
You move to grab a wash rag, dampening it under the tap before kneeling back down by your husband.
“Poor thing,” You coo, folding the cloth in half before dabbing it against the back of Astarion’s neck, hoping to ease the fever.
The elf’s eyes flutter closed as he allows you to fawn over him for a moment. And then he groans and flicks his hand, palm faced downward, as if trying to shoo you away. His voice is hoarse when he says, “Just leave me here and go get ready for your meeting, darling. I’ll be fine.”
“In sickness and in health, remember?” You ask, running the cool cloth over Astarion’s face, causing him to sigh thankfully at the slight relief, “I’ll send word to the other Counsellors to inform them that I won’t be attending. You’ve never been ill before; I don’t want to leave you like this. Wyll can fill me in later.”
“Yes, ‘in sickness and in health’ and all that, darling, but those vows also included ‘until death do us part’ and I was an immortal vampire when we made them. So you were technically entering that verbal contract under false pretenses, which one could argue means it’s null and void. Go to the meeting, it’s—“
Astarion almost manages to finish his rambling legalese before more putrid liquid spews out of his mouth. When he’s finished vomiting, he whines again, any bit of stubborn resilience and feeble attempts at selflessness abandoned.
“On second thought, maybe you should stay here,” He says, his chest heaving with exertion as he clenches his eyes shut, “Please tell me you have a spell for this.”
“Unfortunately not, my love. I only have a spell for curses. Best I can do is half a bottle of Elixir of Health, some ginger-peppermint tea, and a bath.” You sigh, already crossing the bathroom on your way to the tub. You fiddle with the taps for a moment to start the bath and then begin to pour oils into the flowing water.
“Deal,” Your husband mutters, peeling off his sweat-soaked night shirt, “But none of that vile honey you got at the market here in town for my tea; I want the one Shadowheart and Lae’zel sent from Neverwinter.”
“Anything you say, Lord Ancunin.” You joke, rolling your eyes at your husband’s fussiness. He’d barely regained his sense of taste a few months ago and already favored upscale ingredients and meals, as if mortal food hadn’t been but ash in his mouth for two hundred years.
The elf glares at your insolence but doesn’t retort; he’s too busy trying to keep himself from vomiting again.
*
The following morning, Astarion wakes feeling much better. Practically brand new, in fact. It seems the potion and your strange flower child medicine must have done the trick. He sighs a breath of relief and then rolls to snuggle against you for a few more precious moments. He reaches his arms out and grasps at nothing but air.
The silver-haired elf immediately frowns and sits up. That’s exceptionally odd. You were not a morning person; you never had been in the ten years he’d known you. You always slept in longer than him, even in the wilds. On more than one occasion he’d had to lure you out of your nearly comatose slumber with the tempting smells of coffee and breakfast.
Astarion hears you gagging in the bathroom and goes to investigate. He soon finds you clinging to the toilet, practically mirroring how he looked the day prior.
“Oh no, little love, do you think you have food poisoning, too?” He questions, frowning slightly before kneeling down to press his hand against your forehead just like you’d done to him, “No fever, though.”
You whine, leaning into your husband’s hand before grumbling, “Damn the Blushing Mermaid straight to Stygia! Why do I even like that place, again?”
Astarion laughs, “I’ve been wondering the same thing for years, dear. I hope now you’ll finally reconsider. Do you want some tea and a bath?”
“Please,” You say, just before another wave of nausea hits you, forcing you to throw your head into the toilet and gag. Frustratingly, not much actually comes out despite the waves of sickness coursing through your body.
Gods, you wish you could simply vomit and feel relief.
Astarion begins to prepare the appropriate remedies, much like you’d done for him the day before. Thankfully, you seem to recover much faster than he did, and by midday you look and feel completely normal.
Good thing, too. You two were out of any elixirs that may have helped you had your ailment been as severe as Astarion's.
“Perhaps I’m just a better healer than you, darling.” The silver-haired elf teases as the two of you take afternoon tea in the sunroom.
“Perhaps I’m just stronger and more resilient than you, my love.” You retort, wrinkling your nose in jest at your husband.
He chuckles softly and then presses a kiss to your nose, “Agree to disagree.”
*
Astarion thinks the two of you are past this bit of bad luck, but when he wakes the following morning, he hears you retching once again.
When the elf finds you in the bathroom, appearing as almost an exact repeat of yesterday, though perhaps a bit worse, his brow furrows.
“Darling, I'm worried now. You look more ill than before. Perhaps we should take a trip to Jaheira? I can head to the apothecary for another Elixir of Health while she looks you over.” He murmurs gently, extending his hands to pull you to your feet.
You simply nod in agreement, too nauseated to do more than follow your husband’s lead as he slips you into a set of robes and ushers you into the carriage.
*
When Astarion returns to Jaheira’s after dashing out to the apothecary, he finds you sitting at the druid’s dining table. The two of you stop whatever hushed conversation you’d been having and turn to look at him in unison.
“Feeling any better, Tav?” He asks, coming to stand by your side before placing a worried hand upon your shoulder. You simply cover your hand with his and nod in response.
“Much better,” You say, flashing your husband a small smile. Something about your expression looks hazed, as if you’re stuck in a daydream. Poor thing, you're probably exhausted and experiencing brain fog.
“I’m sure you’ll be just fine with the teas and medicinals I’ve given you,” Jaheira assures, her eyes flickering between the two of you. She grins for the briefest moment before falling back into her typical, more serious demeanor.
Astarion swears he feels like something is off, but when he turns to give you a questioning look, you’re the picture of happiness as you sip from your tea cup, finishing it off.
Well, at least you’re doing what Jaheira has prescribed.
“What about the Elixir of Health I’ve just purchased?” Your husband asks, lifting the bag in his hand, “Will that help?”
“Oh, I recommend you keep it for something else. I don’t think Tav needs it for this,” The druid responds before standing, signaling it’s the end of the visit. She was always quite straight forward and lacking in certain genteel social graces, in Astarion’s opinion.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Harpers.”
You quickly bid your goodbyes and Astarion helps you back into the carriage, eager to get you back to bed so that you can sleep off the rest of this sickness.
*
Astarion notices you’re uncharacteristically quiet on the carriage ride home. He typically doesn’t mind when you’re in one of your pensive, stoic moods. But this illness of yours had him more anxious than usual and he had to know more about Jaheira’s examination results, if only to ease his own worries.
“Darling,” He starts, taking your hand in his. But you don’t seem to hear him; you’re still lost in your own little world.
“My love,” He says, this time a bit more urgently, squeezing your hand just enough to pull your attention to him, “What did Jaheira say, exactly? Did she mention how long this illness will last?”
“Oh, the nausea will probably go on for a few weeks,” You reply, a goofy, lopsided smile breaking across your face. You cannot stifle your grin at the little secret you know you’ll be unable to keep for more than a few moments longer.
“Weeks?” Astarion questions, his voice pitching up with worry and brows stitching together in concern.
Why in the hells are you smiling? What druid bullshit was in the tea Jaheira gave you?
He folds his arms across his chest, not at all pleased by the lack of seriousness you seem to display. The idea of you being sick for weeks makes his heart hurt and his stomach churn as if he’s still sick. He could never stand to see you uncomfortable.
“Tav, are you drugged? This is serious. I fail to see what there is to be smiling about right now. You’re going to be nauseous for weeks and you can’t use an Elixir of Health? Are you absolutely sure Jaheira even knows what she’s—“
“I’m pregnant, Astarion,” You interrupt, and you cannot help but to laugh at your husband as his mouth hangs open mid-sentence, frozen in shock.
He blinks for a moment or two, otherwise completely still as his brain rushes to process the new information.
When the elf finally regains his composure and finds his ability to speak, he shoots out a flustered, rambled, “Darling, I— I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’m not certain I heard you correctly. The road is quite bumpy and the wheels of the carriage are loud— I think they need oil— and the horses—“
You laugh and firmly grasp your husband’s hand, wholly capturing his attention before murmuring, “You ridiculous elf. You heard me the first time. I’m pregnant, Astarion.”
You don’t think you’ve ever seen a bigger grin cross your husband’s face.
“Tav, darling, I— gods, just come here to me.”
Astarion’s lips crash into yours, and he’s smiling into the kiss as he threads a hand through your hair, intent on pressing you closer into him. A tiny, delighted hum escapes your husband as he uses the kiss to express all the feelings he cannot yet put into words.
When he finally pulls away, he cups your face with his hands and peppers a few more kisses upon your lips.
“Is this your way of telling me you’re happy about this, Astarion?” You ask, grinning at your husband as he gazes upon you with the most besotted eyes you’ve ever seen.
“Thrilled, my love,” He whispers, before pressing forward to kiss you again, trying to convey the depth of his excitement with his affections. He doesn’t let go of you the rest of the way home, almost desperate to cover you in worshipful kisses, each one a little vow of love to you.
You notice he's unusually quiet, but then, he’s far too busy smiling and smooching to do much talking.
*
Later that evening, you move to get out of bed and head toward the bedchamber door.
“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going, little love?” Astarion calls, already tossing his book aside to follow after you, “What do you need? Let me bring it to you.”
“I just wanted a cup of water, Astarion. I can go get—“ You start, but he quickly presses a kiss to your lips, effectively quieting you.
“Hush, my love. You’re still nauseated and you’re carrying very precious cargo.” He gently chastises as he turns you by your shoulders and steers you back toward the bed.
“You’re being dramatic,” You grumble, sitting back down in the bed and wrinkling your nose at your husband.
“Perhaps,” He agrees, grinning down at you as he gently folds the blankets back around your legs, “But you knew exactly the type of theatrics you signed up for when you married me, darling. 'To have and to hold, to love and to cherish' and all that, hm?”
And in that moment, Astarion was certain he’d never love and cherish anything more than you.
Nine months later, the little silver-haired newborn he held in his arms would prove him wrong.
#astarion fanfic#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion x you#dadstarion fic#dadstarion#papastarion#astarion x f!reader#astarion x female reader#astarion reader insert#astarion fluff#domestic astarion#soft astarion#sweet astarion#comfort fic#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#astarion fanfiction#astarion/you#astarion/reader
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➳ i wanna be yours | psh.
roommate!sunghoon x fem!reader (feat. jisung and a few other members from nct dream)
“secrets i have held in my heart”
synopsis: you and sunghoon are roommates, and he’s grown tired of you and jisung constantly making up.
warnings/content: written in third pov. HEAVY! suggestive content and sexual tension (but nothing really happens). cursing/strong mentions of intercourse. toxic relationship with jisung (sorry). not proofread. this was kinda cliche..
comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)
word count: 4.3k
a/n: part two — ₊˚ʚ dress ɞ˚₊
༘˚⋆𐙚。masterlist⋆.✧˚
current song playing: i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
0:46 ─────|────────────── -2:17
“good morning, sweet girl.” y/n’s boyfriend complimented. she woke up with small kisses planted around her face.
“jisung, stop!” she giggled, swatting away as she tried to get out of his grasp. he laughed along, pulling her into a cuddling hug as she gave into it.
“sorry, i’ve just been wanting to kiss you since last night.” the girl rolled her eyes at him, being in a giddy mood before he got up.
“do you really have to go?” she softly pouted, feeling her heart break at the thought of not seeing him for an entire day. “sorry baby, i have to. it’s work,” jisung replied, throwing on his shirt as he got up from the bed.
after getting his clothes on, he opened the door with y/n following behind. as he left the room, he walked towards the door, almost leaving before catching a glance at sunghoon, her roommate.
“hey sunghoon!” her boyfriend excitedly said, raising his hand so they could do a man handshake. hoon only refused it though, not bothering to say anything back as he glared and walked away.
jisung muttered out — “asshole” — as he shook his head from the fact that they used to be friends.
“i’ll see you after work, baby.” he quickly said to y/n, not even bothering to give her a kiss before leaving.
she dumbly smiled at herself, hands on both cheeks to cool herself from the blush as she closed the door. “fucking barf,” a low voice said.
y/n automatically rolling her eyes after words were said before looking at sunghoon, who was gagging.
“fuck off hoon,” she said as she crossed her arms.
he gave a scoff at her words. “so you guys made up again huh?” a nod came from her as he only laughed. “like fucking always.”
“did you sleep on the wrong side of the bed today?? why are you being so moody at such an early time?”
“i, in fact, did sleep on the wrong side because of your ass.” y/n’s mouth shut. “i always sleep wrong because of how much you guys are fucking after making up. stop forgetting you have a roommate.”
she rolled her eyes at him as his bitterness pierced through her. sunghoon didn’t even want to say it, but he wished it was him. he wished it was him that was with her, wishing that it was him who’d treat her ten times better than jisung ever did after an argument. before the stubborn girl could even argue back, he intervened, “why do you keep going back to him anyway?”
“excuse me??”
hoon blinked slowly as he let jealousy get the best of him. “you heard me. why do you keep going back to an asshole like him?” his gaze stayed on hers and he could tell she was starting to get pissed off.
“it’s not your issue to worry about.”
there was a roll in her eyes as she was getting easily annoyed with her roommate. before she could walk away from the scene, he interrupted again — “except it is. every fucking night, he breaks your heart and i’m always left to pick up the pieces for you. and yet- you still go back to him. when are you gonna learn that he’s not the one for you?”
y/n stayed quiet for a second. she attempted to try and block out the last sentence as she said, “then stop being there for me. i never asked you to do that.” there was a sense of hurt in her tone. she knew she was a fool for going back but she couldn’t help it. whenever jisung called, she’d go back in a heartbeat and sunghoon would always have to be the one to comfort her right after. her eyes were quick to water with pain as she felt betrayed.
“you’re never gonna learn, are you? you keep going back to him, kissing his ass and making sure he’s okay when you’re not. you’re not making it any easier on yourself. he doesn’t deserve you..” his voice trailed off, feeling an aching pang in his heart as he always watched the girl he fell in love with go back to an asshole. how could he not love her? everything about her was how he imagined his love life would be, they were doing couple things without even noticing it — and jisung had to be the one to introduce himself through him first. he got to her before hoon could, seizing the chance to snatch up someone like y/n.
“you’re worth more than this relationship. when are you gonna realize that this shit with jisung is never gonna heal? don’t be stupid.”
his words felt like stabs in the back from a knife. everything offended her and though it was the truth, she couldn’t really handle that right now.
“shut up.” she finally responded, eyes staying stern on his as tears fell down. this time, it was him who made her cry and not jisung.
sunghoon felt his heart tear apart from her crying tears but she needed to hear the truth after constant days of just silent comforts he’d give her. her stance was still and the silence filled the air. as his heart ached from watching her cry, he tried to get closer to her — reaching a hand out but she moved back. her teary eyes still stayed on him, a look of hurt and betrayal present on her face as she couldn’t believe what he said. “y/n..” he licked his lips and swallowed down a gulp while his eyes blinked in fear of losing her.
she stepped away again, eyes fluttering from the tears that bled down her cheeks. the girl he loved turned her back against him, not saying anything as she rushed to her room and closed the door behind it.
sunghoon followed behind, getting to her a little too late as the door closed on him. his hand let out a soft smack against it as his eyes closed from the concern. he let out a quiet sigh before slightly yelling, “i’m sorry y/n..”
he felt tears wanting to be let loose as he had just realized he fucked up. he just wanted her to know the truth, to know that jisung was never gonna change from his shitty behavior.
he always swallowed his pride, but he couldn’t this time. seeing how sweet they were with each other was something he never wanted to see, and it sparked jealousy. he walked away though, leaving her to fend for some space as he didn’t want to intrude any further.
for the next few days, they’d constantly ignore each other. y/n often did it to hoon more than he would to her. the only reason why he ignored her was because he didn’t want to make her even more uncomfortable than he already had, so he kept his distance.
there was something about going through each day without talking to her that had him almost lose his mind. the lingering glances they’d make towards each other would kill hoon. each time he could possibly talk to her again, she’d reject it before he could. it hurt him.
sunghoon missed her so much. even if they were under the same roof, nothing just felt the same again. not talking to his friend who knew almost everything that went on about his life was strange, and he didn’t like it. all he wanted was to make it right, but he knew she needed time.
however, everything almost took a change as y/n decided to go to a party with jisung. in which coincidental, sunghoon had gone to as well. perhaps not too coincidental as hoon and jisung still came from the same friend group.
the male roommate dreaded it though. he didn’t want to see the asshole called jisung there, tonguing down someone he couldn’t call his. unfortunately, he still went. jay reluctantly guilt tripped him to go as they were finally able to see their longtime friend, jake again.
“where is she…” he mumbled to himself, head turning left and right to try and catch a glimpse of her anywhere.
as he approached his friend group closer, he heard distant yelling. with caution, he went to the sound, only to find a familiar voice in the making.
“i can’t fucking believe you jisung!”
he hurried his steps in a rush of her voice. oh fuck.. please be okay, y/n… he thought as he continued till he stopped where the scenery was.
there the two of them were… his roommate and her boyfriend arguing in the middle of a party.
“just fucking listen to me, stop being like that and listen to me for once.” jisung groaned out with an irritating tone. his hands tightly gasped onto her wrist after speaking out.
the sickening action from him made sunghoon jump to his feet and go closer to where they were. he grabbed hold of jisung’s collar and in a swift move, hoon landed a smack on his face. the latter fell backward from the punch and landed on his ass.
“sunghoon??” y/n yelled, quickly looking at him as his arm extended out in front of her to not let jisung get any closer.
his head turned to meet her eyes. “are you okay?-“ and just like that, a hit was sent to sunghoon as well. a hurtful groan was let out from him as he wanted to stay on the cold floor for a second, but couldn’t when he saw y/n in the distant vision. he quickly stood on his feet again, seeing jisung slightly chuckle with a bloody mouth and fists up to fight more.
he tried to land another hit on hoon but he moved in time, the boy getting enough time to send another punch that had him land on the floor again. in a sudden motion, the two started tussling — hits being made left and right to each other as little mumbles of insults were heard.
as much as y/n wanted to stop the fight, she knew she couldn’t risk herself getting in. so, she hurriedly grabbed jay and the rest of hoon’s friends to break them apart. jay and heeseung held onto hoon, pulling him away as haechan and jaemin pulled jisung.
“don’t you ever be that rough with her again!” hoon yelled, wanting to send more punches towards the jackass.
y/n was near jay who held him back, worriedly scanning her roommates face as he had a few cuts on him.
“sunghoon, stop this! it’s jake’s party, don’t make it a bigger deal than it should be.” jay shouted, shaking hoon as his grip on his shoulder tightened to grab his attention.
sunghoon let out a regretful sigh, knowing that he most likely blew his friends party. “you’re right..” he mumbled, scrunching his face and turning to his side where his eyes finally met y/n’s after long days of avoidance. his heart thumped though his face was aching. his hand went to his stomach, trying to stop the pain that exuded from there.
“this is all just fucking bullshit,” jisung said, rolling his eyes as he still had some rage in him.
though he still wanted to fight more, haechan and jaemin convinced him to just leave; the two apologizing for his behavior to the enha members before leaving with him. y/n watched them go, not bothering to go after that asshole as she’d rather stay with him.
“ah shit..” hoon murmured, his hand clenching on his stomach in pain. “hey hey, you okay?” heeseung asked, his hand placing on hoon’s chest for support.
“yeah i just..” he stopped his words, struggling to get through them as he felt his body start bruising up.
jay quickly glanced at y/n. “you think you can take care of his wounds?” the sudden question shocked her. “me?” he nodded.
“shouldn’t we take him to a hospital?”
“he’s not that badly hurt, and i think he’d rather have you patch up his wounds than one of us.”
jay and heeseung sneaked in quiet laughs as hoon didn’t even have the energy to tell them to shut up. “you can patch him up in a room down the hall.” the silver haired boy confirmed.
y/n shook her head though. “no I’ll just.. uhm patch him up at home.”
with said, the two members let go of hoon as his arm wrapped around her neck and they left to home. the two enha members laughed to each other, mumbling little sayings of “he’s gonna get it tonight.”
the car ride was quiet the entire way though as she drove them home, both not wanting to say a word until they reached to their place.
as soon as they got there, she settled him onto the couch. “just stay there, i’ll bring the first aid kit in our bathroom.” she said, hearing a deep groan leave his mouth as the pain started to eat him up again. not too long after, she came back with the kit as promised and opened it up.
“let’s clean your face first… you have a lot of dried blood.” y/n spoke with disgust as his face scrunched in pain. “sit up,” and he did.
she first cleaned a part of his eyebrows that had blood drawn, a sharp and clean cut hit there when jisung’s rings got through his skin. she dabbed it with a part of an alcoholic wipe.
a hiss from sunghoon was made — “ow!” — his hands quickly held onto her arms for comfort. the grip he had on her tightened as his eyes screwed shut. “that fucking hurts,” he mumbled afterward, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth.
“well stop moving around then idiot.” she shot back, hands shaking a little from how close she was getting to him. after another few minutes of exaggerated groans from hoon, she finally finished up the first wound with a small bandaid on there.
“are we done yet?” he sighed, just wanting the night to end as he constantly felt his heart racing just from looking at her.
y/n slightly smiled. “no hoon, i still have to clean your mouth, and check your bruises.”
he threw his head back in frustration and she only giggled to herself about it, finding fun in how annoyed he was getting.
the girl turned to the first aid kit on her other side, hands fumbling through the box to find other alcohol wipes and bandaids. as she was turned, sunghoon’s eyes never left her presence. he kept his gaze on her, looking into how much she was caring for him. he was confused, his heart was pounding inside his chest from pain and joy in getting her all to himself.
“oh, here it is!” she exclaimed, head quickly whipping to hoon’s side that brought him out of his oblivion state. y/n turned back to him with more wipes and bandaids, excited to finally clean up the nasty blood mark around his mouth. as she opened the wipe and began to reach toward his mouth, hoon stopped her with the grab of her wrist.
her confused face almost caused a laugh to erupt from him, but he didn’t. “maybe i should just do it myself y/n..” he softly said, his eyes that met hers now became faint with assurance.
getting too close to his roommate like this didn’t feel like a good idea after all. if anything went further, he didn’t know how much he’d be able to control himself from wanting her. “don’t be ridiculous hoon, this is the least i should do for you.” she retracted, hands that were held by his still going in to wipe the blood.
he hissed at the feeling, letting his hand that held hers fall to his side as he just let her do it after all. every hiss was a pang to her heart, she couldn’t believe he did such a thing for her. her eyes always softened at his scrunched face that tried to uphold the alcohol burn.
“almost done.”
y/n continued to clean it up, wiping all the blood away as she felt his intense stare on her. she felt like her heart was gonna jump out of her from the constant pounding. “stop staring hoon…” she quietly said, still averting his eyes as hers gazed at his lips instead.
“sorry.. can’t help it…” sunghoon responded, taking a gulp afterward that was noticed by his favorite girl from his adams apple bobbing.
there was an urgent need to kiss him suddenly, to just taste the blood on his lips and let him hiss in the kiss from the pain. she wanted to give in, feeling everything in her body scream to just go for it as she tried holding back.
“you’re too close to me.” his low voice spoke, eyes still strong on hers as he observed her shutting her eyes from his words.
“fuck hoon…” her soft whisper was like honey in his ears, and he wanted to hear more. he wanted more but he restrained himself from doing further damage to their relationship.
with slow hesitation, y/n didn’t even realize it but her face had pushed itself closer to hoon’s; close to finally tasting his luscious lips. the sexual tension was kicking in, heat exuding everywhere as the simple act of their faces being close had them both weak.
“are you gonna clean my wound or just stare at it?” he whispered, a smirk being displayed as it straightened y/n up. she quickly pulled away, throwing the bloody wipe to the side while ripping open a bandaid. her body turned away from his again and he quickly scrunched his face from how close they were to kissing.
‘fuck.. i shouldn’t have asked that…’ he thought to himself, mentally face palming as he continued to watch her every move.
“let me check your cheek hoon, it looks pretty bruised.” she shakily said, ignoring his question and the obvious desire they both had as hands were already reaching for his slight purple-colored cheek.
gently, her hand held the pain and she observed it. sunghoon felt everything inside just basically heal from her one touch. he closed his eyes once more, reeling everything from the touch of her fingers. “you okay?” she softly spoke, eyes scanning through his face for a sort of confirmation from him.
he gave a half smile, heart exhilarating from the emotions he was having. “yeah.. thanks to you,” he said back with the same soft tone.
the girl’s face lit up at his words, eye smiles showing through as her thumb constantly left soft touches on the cheek.
“i’m not going back to him anymore. tonight was the last time i intended to be with him, that’s why he was yelling.” she suddenly said, her words catching him offguard. his eyes shot open — “you’re not gonna go back this time?”
she smiled at him even more. “no.. i didn’t want to deal with a jackass like him anymore.”
he only nodded in approval, feeling proud that his roommmate finally had the courage to leave him. “how do i know you won’t just go back on your words like always?” he softly questioned, hoping that he wasn’t too harsh with his words. y/n let out a light laugh as she continued to observe his bruised cheek.
“because…” she paused for a second before continuing, “not speaking to you for these past few days were more painful than it ever was to leave jisung. it made me realize that it was never gonna be him, but you.”
sunghoon tried to bite back from fully smiling as he let his adrenaline go wild. his heart thumped at the thought of how she was as much distress as he was when apart. “you can stop smiling like an idiot hoon,” she spoke as she stupidly smiled herself. his hand covered his face for a second, feeling shy while saying — “sorry, can’t help it. hearing that was just satisfying.”
“he did fuck you up pretty hard though,” she commented right after, letting a small breath of air that sounded like a laugh leave her throat as she watched in amusement of hoon’s reaction. his face fell blank, rolling his eyes and turning his head away. “can you not say that?” he jokingly replied while still trying to cool down from the confession. she let out a quiet “sorry” before the two continued to giggle with each other.
“you got bruised around your stomach didn’t you?” y/n asked right after, eyes growing with worry as her lips were still curled into a sweet smile. the 5’11 boy only nodded, his face looking down in a rush of embarrassment.
in sudden movement, she shifted around and found her legs to start straddling on both sides of hoon’s thighs. catching him offguard, he tried to form a sort of sentence with shock in his tone — “w..what are you doing?”
as she continued to try and comfortably settle herself on top of him, she only responded with, “i have to check your stomach for bruises, don’t i?”
indeed , the surge of confidence threw hoon off, but once he found it challenging, he gave a suggestive smirk and placed his hands on the back side of her thighs. he pulled her closer by a tug as he stayed careful to never lose eye contact with her.
“then check it,” he said with comfort.
so she did, hands shaking as they reached the hem of his shirt. was she really gonna do this?
y/n gulped, feeling a wave of nerves hit her. she knew sunghoon’s gaze was upon her, getting the sense of the heavy tension being built up while her fingers quietly fumed with the fabric of his shirt. after what seemed like eternity, her hands had atlas found the courage to lift it.
she paused for a second, immediately admiring his toned body that had been covered with purple colored marks. she heard him hiss a little as her hand slightly ghosted over the bruises. nothing the little touches become a seeping pain for him, she stopped her hands from going any further.
“does it hurt that bad?” the girl asked in a concerning manner, eyes starting to sparkle with light tears washing over.
sunghoon chuckled in return at her troubled state — “just a little, but don’t worry.. it’ll heal soon.” his hand then went to her cheek, pulling it up so that their eyes could meet like they’ve always been this entire night. “i’ll be okay,” he reassured.
y/n couldn’t help but grin a little, feeling her awoken heart heal from the comfort he gave.
his thumb retraced itself to her lips, softly rubbing it as he simply admired how gorgeous they looked. fuck, did he want to kiss her. he wanted to feel them on his and more.
✩ ‘maybe i just want to be yours’ ✩
as if she read his mind, she started to pull in closer to him, closing the gap between them while their chests came in contact. her hands found its place on his broad shoulders, thighs still on either side of his as she continued to stay on top of him. she stopped when their lips were close to touching, faintly ghosting over his as the sexual tension started to rise again. he pined for her, wanting to close the little gap they had and she did too. they both wanted it.
staying as each other’s roommates, they played with each other a little — pulling close and then pulling away when their lips would almost meet. it continued on like this before sunghoon felt the need to intervene — “maybe we shouldn’t y/n…”
she shut her eyes, gulping a harsh sigh as her lips pressed into a line afterward. her heart burned from the tormenting sensation.
“you just broke up with jisung,” he confirmed. hoon stayed soft with his eyes, careful to make sure she knew she wasn’t the problem.
“i want this as much as you do.” she whispered with a scratchy voice.
✩ ‘i wanna be yours’ ✩
he smiled at the words that sent a wave of joy to his heart. “i do too gorgeous,” he said, letting their heads quietly bump with each others right after. “you’ve had a long night though and you should get some rest.” sunghoon assured, watching y/n as she only nodded in agreement.
after a few more seconds of being in close contact, she pulled away; leaving his body and heading off for the night but not before hoon could send her away with a kiss on the forehead.
“sleep well,” he mumbled to her as she only smiled and said her good nights as well. he watched her leave — feeling the sudden, cold air hit as her high body temperature was no longer near his.
the poor boy threw his head back, sighing in loud defeat and exhaustion. “so close to kissing..” he mumbled to himself, throwing an arm over his eyes for eternal darkness. he stayed in that position for a moment, scrunching his face time to time while he ran through the highlights of the night in his head.
afterward, he decided it was time to sleep as well. sunghoon dragged his body to his room in tired eyes, finally giving in to the temptation of sleep.
sparks flew between the two and nobody could deny that, perhaps it even ignited more than just stupid tension always happening. the night ended there though; hoon and y/n quiet in their rooms as they stayed contemplating whether they should’ve kissed or not.
knowing it was better that she was in a contented state to kiss her, her roommate was glad to know that she was at least never going back to that asshole he wished he never called a friend. with that thought in mind, he was finally able to sleep soundlessly as y/n let herself fall asleep as well in the thought of her roommate, park sunghoon.
★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★
#pshcomforts#enhypen imagines#park sunghoon#enha imagines#enha#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen#sunghoon#enhypen jungwon#enhypen jay#enhypen heeseung#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen angst#enhypen scenarios#enhypen jake#enhypen sunoo#enhypen niki#enhypen suggestive#enha fluff#enha x reader#enha scenarios#enhypen x reader#enhypen ff#park sunghoon fanfic#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon angst#sunghoon fanfic
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love the heat || h.wj
pairing: hong woojin x reader
summary: you indulge your boyfriend in his biggest fantasy
warnings: swearing, blood mentions, smut (18+ ; minors dni)
additional warnings: a lil exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), face sitting, cumming untouched, absolute pussy fiend woojin
word count: 3.2k
“Hey, Champ!”
Your voice echoing throughout the empty gym makes Woojin perk up and turn around, eyes searching the arena for you. He spots you by the door and his face lights up. His trainer, on the other hand, looks significantly less enthusiastic about your unannounced appearance. Woojin doesn’t seem to notice, though. He beckons you over, lifting the ropes so you can duck into the ring with him.
He wraps you into a hug, despite your protests of him being sweaty, and only releases you once you return his embrace.
“Don’t call me champ when you know I got my ass handed to me yesterday,” he mumbles.
“You’re my champion. Doesn’t that count for anything?” you ask.
“Of course it does,” Woojin surrenders momentarily, swooping down to kiss you chastely on the lips. “But ranking first in your heart doesn’t do much for sponsors.”
You put your hands on your hips, trying to look stern. “Weren’t you only practicing yesterday? What’s with the dramatics? It’s not like it was a televised fight.”
“And even so, Geonwoo still hit me so hard I blacked out for a couple seconds.”
“He what?”
Woojin hadn’t mentioned that part last night in the debrief of his day he always gives you when he calls to say goodnight.
He shrugs it off. “It was an accident. He didn’t mean to hit me that hard.”
You frown, cupping his face to get a better look at the damage. “And he split your lip? Jesus, Woo, do I need to have a chat with him?”
“No, no. It’s fine, babe. It happens all the time.”
“Still, he needs to be gentler when you’re just sparring. I don’t want to taste blood every time I kiss you.”
“I guess only one of us doesn’t mind the taste of blood,” Woojin quips with a smirk, pulling you closer to him by slipping two fingers into a belt loop on your jeans.
“Woo!” you scold, shoving him away. You nod in the direction of his trainer who is still standing less than ten feet from the both of you.
He holds up his hands defensively. “What! I was talking about my own blood.”
“Yeah, ok,” you mutter before turning to the other man in the ring. “Hi, Jimmy.”
He nods. “Always a pleasure.”
You manage to keep yourself from snorting at the blatant exaggeration, if not flat-out lie, and nod politely back to him.
“I’ll be over on the bench until you’re finished,” you say.
“I can be finished right now,” Woojin blurts.
“No, you can’t be. I heard Jimmy saying ‘three more sets’ when I walked in. And you have to cool down after.”
Your boyfriend’s smile wanes but his trainer mouths a silent thank you to you behind his back.
“I’ll make them quick, then,” he promises.
“I’m not in a rush.”
“Well, I am,” Woojin murmurs, pulling you close again. “You smell nice, by the way.”
You drop your voice to a whisper and will yourself to take a step back. It’s so tempting to just yank him out of the ring and drag him to your car but you’re the one with more restraint between the two of you so you have to keep it together for both of your sakes. “Keep it in your pants, Hong. I’ll be over there.”
He pouts. “You’re not going to give me a kiss for good luck?”
“Isn’t this just practice?”
“Wow, so you hate me.”
“Yes, that’s exactly the conclusion you were meant to draw from that,” you deadpan.
“Can I get a kiss or not?”
“Yes, you can. But next time just ask for one. Don’t use luck as an excuse.”
Woojin opens his mouth, you predict to argue back about how he had done no such thing, but you kiss him before he can get a word out. He lets out a surprised “hmph!” before relaxing his lips against your own. You pull away before he can take it any further, smiling only a little at the whine that escapes him when you do.
“Good luck, Champ.”
-
Woojin does fight better when you’re around. He’s always called you his good luck charm, and honestly, you thought he was full of shit at first. He was just a good fighter, period. His talent didn’t have anything to do with you. But then you had to take a trip overseas for a few weeks a couple of months into your relationship and you changed your mind.
His matches were televised so you watched all of them, setting your alarm for ungodly hours or simply pulling all-nighters to be able to tune in live.
The first fight you weren’t able to go to went horribly. You almost had to stop watching because of how bad Woojin looked by the end of it. You still remember crying to him over the phone about it afterward.
You thought it was a fluke. Everyone has bad days. Then the pattern continued. The other matches weren’t as bad as the first one, thankfully. Woojin even won some of them. But he was off his game the whole time.
Geonwoo told you he had never seen anything like it. He had never seen his best friend so... distracted before.
Both boys begged you to come home as soon as possible. And when you did, his streak of bad luck immediately ended.
He won the title of the first tournament you were back for. It was the first and only time he’s beaten Geonwoo, who tackled him in a hug as soon as the ref called the match. Woojin had to physically push his best friend off to get to you. Geonwoo was almost offended until he saw you standing behind him, waiting for your boyfriend’s attention. It was not the first nor would it be the last time Geonwoo forgot about your existence. You don’t mind, mostly. It’s only ever for a second and he always apologizes profusely.
Your presence hasn’t affected his performance that dramatically since then, but he does fight better when you’re there cheering him on. It’s proven when you hear a punch land with a resounding “oof” from Jimmy, and a comment from the trainer about how he’d finally gotten past his block. Jimmy lets your boyfriend off a couple of minutes early, evidently tired from the beating he was taking. Woojin rounds the benches where you’re sat, grinning at you like he’s just won the lottery.
“Ready to go?” you ask, handing him a towel.
“Just about,” he answers as he wipes the sweat from his face. “Gotta hit the showers first. Wanna join?”
You scoff, peeking over his shoulder to make sure Jimmy hadn’t heard him. “This is a public space.”
Woojin checks his watch and smirks. “Only for about seven more minutes. Then it’s closed. It’ll be all ours.”
You roll your eyes. “Except you’re not the one with the keys to lock up, Jimmy is. Do you really think he’ll want to hear that?”
“He won’t mind.”
“He most definitely will.” You push Woojin’s thigh with your knee. “Now hurry up. The faster you shower, the faster we can get out of here.”
-
You picked up takeout on the way back to the apartment Woojin shares with Geonwoo. There was enough food for all three of you and now the empty containers lay on the coffee table, long forgotten as the credits to the movie you’d put on in the background roll.
Geonwoo had already gone to bed. He left halfway through, claiming to be too tired to watch the whole thing. You knew he had probably looked up the ending on Wikipedia and decided he’d rather play games in his room instead but you didn’t question him when he dipped.
“What do you want to watch next, babe?” Woojin asked as he gathered up all of the plasticware and rinsed it out in the sink.
“Whatever,” you answered noncommittally from where you were laying on the couch.
“Are you feeling tired, baby?” Woojin asks once he’s returned from sorting the containers for recycling. He kneels by the couch, petting your hair gently.
You shake your head. “Not really.”
“No?”
“Uh-uh.”
“What’s on your mind, then?”
“Something like this.”
You lift your head from the sofa’s armrest and lean forward, meeting Woojin with a kiss. He hums against your mouth like he’s pleasantly surprised and deepens it without further question. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth, moaning as he cradles the back of your head with one of his hands. It gets heated fast. One second you’re laying down on the couch making out, the next you’re on the living room floor with your boyfriend who’s working a hand down your pants.
“Wait, wait, wait- Geonwoo is home, babe,” you whisper after breaking away from his embrace.
Woojin looks mildly miffed, curls in disarray as he pouts at you. “So? He’s in his room.”
“Yeah, and his room is right there,” you hiss, looking over your shoulder at his door.
“He’s asleep.”
“We don’t know that.”
“He said he was going to sleep,” Woojin points out. “Are you uncomfortable out here? Because we can go somewh-”
“No, it’s not that, I’d just feel bad if he suddenly walked in on us.”
Woojin shrugs. “He’s seen worse.”
“That’s not the point. You know that’s not the point.”
“It’s not like he doesn’t hear us going at it when we’re in my room. We share a wall.”
Well, that was a slightly mortifying bit of information that you had not previously been aware of. You knew they shared a wall, obviously, but you hadn’t thought about the way sound traveled through said wall. And now that you were thinking about it, you could hear Geonwoo yelling at his game sometimes. Fuck.
You scramble to your knees and push yourself back onto the couch. Woojin puts a hand on either of your thighs and spreads them apart, looking up at you
“It’s a little hot if you think about it,” he says. You purse your lips. “Look at you, you can’t even deny it!”
“Just get up here.”
You don’t give him a chance to make another snarky comment before you’re yanking him up by the collar of his T-shirt and kissing him again. Woojin doesn’t protest. He simply makes a sound of satisfaction against your mouth, like he’d won.
There’s a bit of push and pull. You trying to tug him up onto the couch, him trying to drag you down back onto the floor. But the game of tug of war persists for just a moment before your boyfriend overpowers you and pulls you onto his lap. You knew he had only been humoring you for the sake of the bit.
“Baby?” he asks when you start to kiss his neck, sounding a little breathless.
“Hm?”
“Will you sit on my face?”
You pause and sit up properly to look him in the eyes. “What?”
He swallows thickly, looking desperate. “Sit on my face, please?”
Woojin loves your pussy. Loves the taste of it, to be more specific. He loves the feeling too, of course, but he’s spent hours with his head in between your legs making you see God over and over again. He eats you out every single time you have sex. He eats you out even when you don’t have sex sometimes, just because he’s craving you on his tongue.
But you’ve never sat on his face. In all the months you’ve been dating it just hasn’t come up. He’s had you in practically every way possible except for this one.
“Please, baby. Don’t make me beg.”
He was kind of already begging but you weren’t going to point that out. You looked towards Geonwoo’s door again and then back at Woojin.
“Here?”
“Yeah, right here,” he pats the spot on the floor. “Just get on top of me.”
“Alright, help me get my pants off.”
You’re still in your outfit from work because you don’t like to change before you shower and you don’t like to shower unless you’re going to be in bed for the rest of the night. You’ve argued about Woojin eating you out after a full day of work before but he insists that he could not give less of a fuck about the state your pussy is in as long as it’s in his mouth.
You only let him do it because you know he means it and he makes you cum so hard that you can’t even find it within yourself to be self-conscious.
Your work slacks are tight but Woojin manages to get them off in record time. He folds them neatly and places them on the couch before getting into position and motioning for you to join him.
You wiggle out of your underwear and set them on top of your pants. Woojin’s already on his back but he props himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you. He smirks as you step over him, straddling his waist with your ankles instead of your thighs.
“You look so fucking hot like that,” he mutters. “Kind of just want to watch you stand there and look disappointed in me all night.”
You scoff. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously in love with you.” He winks and clicks his tongue.
“You’d really rather do this instead of... the other thing?”
“I never said that! I’d rather do the other thing. Definitely the other thing.” You snort and shake your head at him. “But we can file this away for another day?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“It is what I want.”
“But what you want more...”
“Is for you to sit on my face, yes. So come here.”
-
Woojin knows you’re not teasing him on purpose, but it definitely feels like you are. You’re still out of reach, hovering hesitantly above his mouth. You seem nervous so he doesn’t rush you but he’s dying for it.
It also seems like you don’t quite know what to do with yourself. He thinks about asking you if you’ve ever done this before but then he decides he would rather not know the answer to that question.
“Here, baby,” he murmurs and puts his hands on your hips to guide you down onto him.
“Remember, tap me twice if you can’t breathe or something,” you remind him.
He won’t need to do that but he nods in acknowledgment to ease your mind if nothing else.
Woojin coaxes you down a little further, close enough for him to taste you if he cranes his neck so that’s what he does. He lifts his head and sticks out his tongue to trace the shape of you. Immediately, you shudder and Woojin uses your clumsiness against you. He raises his shoulders as soon as he feels your legs begin to shake which makes you lose your balance and fall onto him completely.
Your boyfriend moans into you, making you whimper in turn. He’s instantly convinced this is what heaven feels like. All of his senses have been overtaken by you. All he can taste, smell, see, and feel is you. And all he can hear are the sweet sounds of pleasure he knows you’re trying to hold back.
You’re sort of just sitting there on his face, and to be fair that’s what he’d asked you to do but he knows it would feel even better for you if you moved a bit so he encourages you to rock your hips by pushing on your ass. You get the message and start to grind down on him, earning praise in the form of a thumbs-up.
“Fuck, so wet,” he compliments, hoping you can understand him.
“Yeah, well you know what watching you box does to me,” you sigh defensively.
Woojin tries not to smirk because he knows you’d be able to feel it but he can’t help himself. You smack his shoulder in retaliation. Yeah, that’s pretty much what he thought would happen.
“Taste so good, baby. Thank you. Than- mph!”
You’d threaded your fingers into his hair and yanked him by it, using your newfound control to push his face even deeper into your cunt.
“Fuck yes... does it feel good?”
“Feels fucking incredible, Woo. How are you so good at this?”
Woojin doesn’t want to admit that it’s all he’s thought about since he met you. Doesn’t want to share the fantasies that have kept him up at night with a hand around his cock, sometimes with you sleeping right next to him. He’s wanted you to ride his face since before you started dating, and once he’d actually tasted you, it was over for him. Just like it’s over for him now.
He doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his entire life. It hurts and he’s been thrusting into nothing for several minutes now, and he’s almost certain his sweats are already ruined with the amount of precum he’s leaking.
He loses the ability to speak when he starts fucking you with his tongue but he figures his mouth is being put to better use like this anyway. Besides, you do enough talking for both of you. You’re still trying to keep your voice down since Geonwoo is in the next room but it ultimately doesn’t matter because the most obscene sounds in the room are coming from Woojin making out with your pussy.
His nose nudges your clit over and over each time you glide over it like it’s a credit card, and it makes him wonder what it would feel like for you to ride his nose. He’s gotten a few compliments on the shape of his nose so he’s confident that it would feel good for you but in order to do that you would have to turn around and he’s enjoying having his tongue inside of you way too much to give that up.
“Woo, fuck,” you gasp suddenly.
Your thighs squeeze tighter around his head and he whines, wishing it were somehow possible for you to crush his skull and still live.
“Close?”
“Yes, I’m right there, don’t stop...”
He holds you down as you cum, absolutely drowning himself in the arousal that gushes from you as you do. He laps up as much of it as he can, but he can’t quite get all of it and what’s left runs down the sides of his face onto the rug beneath him. He can’t find it within him to care, aside from being slightly jealous of the carpet.
You’re saying something but all he can hear is white noise as his body goes taut and then relaxes. When he comes to, you’ve already climbed off of him and are laying on the floor spent.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighs.
You lift your head curiously. “Did you just-”
“Yeah.”
He grimaces and sits up to assess the damage. His sweatpants have a dark wet spot right over his dick. Predictable. He hadn’t wanted to cum like that but it was simply unavoidable. Anyone in his position would have done the same thing. Probably.
“The rug,” you groan, staring at the stain.
“I’ll send it off to be cleaned,” Woojin assures you.
“You don’t have rug cleaning money!”“Then I’ll clean it myself. There’s a twenty-four-hour convenience store down the street. We can go there to get the stuff. After we do that again.”
finally finished this bad boy ;-; lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
bloodhounds tags: @sluttywoozi @kimanniexxx @icyb3rry
#bloodhounds smut#hong woojin smut#bloodhounds x reader#hong woojin x reader#hong woo jin smut#hong woo jin x reader#bloodhounds x female reader#hong woojin x female reader
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The Speed Of Light
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.7K
Summary: All Y/N wants is to be in Rafe's arms and he is prepared to do that no matter what it takes.
A/N: Inspired by this post.
Masterlist
Distance from Rafe isn’t something Y/N often struggles with. Sure, she likes to cuddle with him and be in physical contact with him, but she doesn’t need to do it every second of the day. She likes to have her alone time and Rafe respects that need. However, something in her today just craved to be in his hold and unlucky for her, this wasn’t his day off. In fact, he is supposed to stay late to help his dad with paperwork. She knows she shouldn’t ask him to come home, yet all she wants is to be in his arms right now. She takes her phone out and sends him a text: Are you coming home soon? His reply is just as quick. No, Bunny. I’ll probably be home past dinner time, so you can eat without me.
Oh…
Why oh? Is everything okay?
Everything is fine. I just miss you. That’s all. She quickly follows the text with I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll let you get back to work.
Rafe is already standing at his desk and heading to his dad’s office before she can send the second text. “I know I said I would work late tonight, but Y/N needs me. I’ll finish it tomorrow morning,” he informs his dad, not asking for permission because he doesn’t care if he has it. Ward looks up from the report he is looking at, “Okay, that’s fine. Say hello to Y/N for me.” Rafe nods, going to his car without thought. I’m on my way, Bunny. She can’t hide her massive grin once she sees the message. It’s been around thirty minutes and Rafe isn’t home yet, which is strange because it should only take ten minutes to get here from his workplace. She grows worried that something happened to him, so she calls him. “Hi, Bunny,” he greets through the speakerphone. She sighs in relief, “I thought something bad happened to you. Why aren’t you home yet?” “You are very clingy today aren’t you, Bunny?” he playfully teases. “I’m sorry I scared you and I’m not home yet, but they closed a bunch of roads and there was an accident. Apparently, the Outer Banks can get pretty bad traffic.”
“Well, can’t you use your boyfriend or Cameron's powers to get you through?” she pleads, kneading at the pillow. He chuckles, “I don’t think they can do anything about the traffic, Bunny. I’m sorry. I will be there at the speed of light though, I promise. Why don’t you go get ready? I’ll take you out to dinner.” “Hmm, I don’t want to go out for dinner. Can you pick up something at the Wreck instead? I want to cuddle,” she explains. He shakes his head with a smile, “Okay, I can do that. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” “Thank you. I love you. See you soon,” she states. His heart swells, “I love you too. Bye.” He hands up the phone.
———
Ten minutes later, which is way faster than Y/N thought he would be coming, she hears his truck in the driveway. She flings the door open to see him with his arms held open to her. She runs into his arms, giving him a tight squeeze. He presses his kiss to her temple. She takes in the scent of his colognes, “How did you get home so fast?” “I told you I would be home at the speed of light,” he recounts. “Plus, I guess my Cameron powers were better than I thought because I was able sweet talk Shoupe to open up another road and Mike owed me a favour so he got our food out real fast.” She looks up at him with big eyes, “You did all of that for me?” “Of course. I would do anything for you, Bunny. Now, come on. Let’s eat,” he says with his lips against her forehead. He takes her inside and flops on the couch, throwing his arm over the back of the couch so she can settle in beside him. That night is spent cuddled up on the sofa, eating and watching TV.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks#outer banks imagine#outer banks x reader#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe obx#rafe cameron fluff#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe#rafe imagine#rafe x reader#rafe smut#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#outerbanks#outer banks fic#obx fanfiction#obx#obx fic#obx x reader#outer banks rafe#obx fanfic#obx imagine
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series masterlist | last part — next part
pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 4.4k words
warnings: explicit language, angst, mentions of reader’s strained relationship with her parents
summary: the first night in mexico with steve is not as weird as you thought it would be, but it’s hard to avoid thinking about everything that happened with eddie
CHAPTER TWELVE | ❝𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖❞
Fall Semester 2016
You figured that the first night was weird because the first night in a new place was usually always weird.
But then the next two nights were somehow worse. Alone in a room that you were slowly starting to wonder if it would ever feel like “home.”
You sat in your bed and stared up at the ceiling for what felt like hours, but when you looked at your phone, you saw that only twenty minutes had passed since the last time you’d checked it. An annoyed sigh left your lips as you closed your eyes again, willing sleep to come.
Unsurprisingly, after another few minutes, it didn’t, and that made you grab your phone and call the one person that you wanted to talk to at that moment.
When Eddie answered with a soft and tired “Hi,” you asked, “Hey, are you busy right now?”
“At one in the morning? Not really, no.” When you didn’t laugh at his joke, he became serious. “You okay?”
“This is probably dumb and I already feel that way for asking this, but can you come over?”
“Yeah, of course,” He didn’t hesitate to answer and then things got quiet for a second before he asked again. “You okay?”
“I’ll explain when you get here,” You said, not wanting to go on what you felt like would be a neverending ramble about your current thoughts over the phone. “You can even take the bed if you want. I’ll sleep on the floor. Doesn’t matter to me.”
“I’m not gonna kick you out of your bed,” You could practically hear him shaking his head at your offer. “I’ll be there in ten.”
He actually made it in five minutes and you were greeting him with a small smile and a promise to give him as many blankets as he needed to be comfortable on the floor when you opened your door.
“So, what made you wanna do this impromptu sleepover?” Eddie asked once he was settled and you were back in your bed. You knew what the lighthearted question was really saying, What’s wrong?
“I feel dumb because I should’ve known that this was gonna happen,” You said, starting your answer in the middle because you knew that he’d catch on immediately. “We both know how I am when things are too quiet. But, after my roommate situation last year, I thought this single dorm thing would be better. But, actually, it sucks. Now, I weirdly miss the nights where I had to fall asleep to the sound of her talking on the phone.”
“You’ll get used to this,” He said, but you weren’t entirely sure if that was possible. You did appreciate how encouraging he sounded, though. “Hey, do you want this old TV that my uncle’s been meaning to get rid of? It’s just sitting in my room back home collecting dust right now. You can leave it on all night and it’ll probably make it easier to sleep.”
“Shit, that makes so much sense,” You said. It was the easiest fix and you were now realizing that it probably should’ve hit you before.
“We can get it this weekend,” Eddie told you. “I’ll even give you the old VHS tapes I used to play on it all the time. Lots of horror movies.”
You let out a quiet laugh. “I don’t know if falling asleep to Friday the 13th or Halloween every night is the greatest idea.”
“Okay, yeah, makes sense. There are also some cartoons.”
You smiled then. “Now that sounds great. I get to find out what cartoons Eddie Munson loved as a kid.”
He laughed. “It was a lot of things that were just weird knockoffs of Barney because that’s all my uncle would buy.”
“That sounds very cute,” You said, still smiling. “Thank you, though. Seriously. And thank you for being here right now too.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”
Not even with Chrissy? You wanted to ask that, but you didn’t because you had a feeling what his answer would be and you didn’t want to make things weird or awkward.
So, instead, you said, “Thank you for ruining your back for me.” You shifted a bit, turning on your side toward him. “We can still switch if you want. I’m fine with taking the floor.”
“Not gonna happen,” He told you and you decided against once again trying to convince him otherwise.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Spring Semester 2018
There was a mourning period that came and went. And it didn’t even feel that overdramatic to call it that.
Stupidly, you expected to wake up the day after the moment you had with Eddie at his apartment and be completely over him— because you now knew that he’d never see you as anything other than as his best friend. There was no point in having even a little bit of hope for something equivalent to “a fairytale ending,” so you expected every other part of you to understand that too. But, apparently, an almost three-year-long crush couldn’t end that easily.
A part of you felt like you were back to Freshman year— pretending that everything was fine and normal. When, in reality, nothing was fine, and instead your life now felt like you were stuck in a really bad movie or nightmare.
You didn’t just feel hurt by the rejection— which technically wasn’t an outward rejection, but it felt just the same— you also felt embarrassed about everything you’d done over the past month. Even when days passed and the hurt faded into a wholehearted acceptance that still also felt a little sad, everything else stayed.
Steve was the only person that you could possibly admit any of this to since he was a part of the whole fake dating thing. You could tell him that it all ended up being an entire waste of time for you. However, somehow the thought of telling him only made you feel even more embarrassed.
He was so settled on the idea that this would work for you, and he continued doing things in hopes of making something happen over the last few days. It all felt so wrong now, but you simply pretended that it didn’t because you found it too hard to be honest.
You instead actively forced yourself to stop thinking about how everything had changed and how you were the only one who was aware of that fact. And it actually wasn’t the hardest thing to do. Except on the nights when it seemed as if there was nothing to do but think.
It was usually easy to drown out your thoughts with the sounds of whatever was happening within your apartment, but the circumstances were different at this moment since you weren’t in your room or the apartment at all. Instead, you were in a different country in a random bed with Steve sleeping right next to you.
You’d been exhausted after the flight and the hour drive to the fancy resort, but once you were actually settled in the huge bed that barely filled out the even bigger room, you couldn’t seem to sleep. Neither you nor Steve had been able to figure out the TV, you couldn’t even find the remote, but you figured that was fine because you thought you’d fall asleep easily. Clearly, you were wrong, though. And you now couldn’t stand to lay in the silence anymore.
You slowly pulled the blanket off of you and got out of your side of the bed— the left had been designated as yours and the right was Steve’s. The bed was also big enough that you had declined his earlier offer about putting a sort of pillow divider to make things more comfortable for you. In your head, sharing a bed with him probably wouldn’t end up being the weirdest part of this trip.
You maneuvered pretty well in the dark. Finding your sneakers that sat by your already haphazardly picked through suitcase and slipping them on, and then grabbing your phone and room key off of the nightstand and slipping both into the small pocket of the pajama shorts you were wearing.
It would’ve been easier if you just left without saying anything to Steve because you’d probably be back before he could even notice that you’d been gone. But, for some reason, it didn’t feel entirely right to do that.
“Hey,” You whispered as you stepped a little closer to him. “Steve?”
His eyes didn’t open as he shifted a bit and let out a soft, “Hmm?”
“I’ll, um, I’ll be right back.”
“Where you going?” He asked, words quiet and slightly mumbled.
“I can’t really sleep, so I think I’m gonna check out that twenty-four-hour buffet for a bit. The one that they mentioned when we were checking in.”
“Okay,” He said, eyes opening and he rubbed them for a second before pushing a quick hand through his hair and getting out of the bed.
You shook your head at his actions. “You don’t have to come.”
“I know,” He said but kept moving, standing up and going to grab his sneakers.
“You really don’t have to come,” You told him. “I already feel bad about waking you up.”
“It’s the middle of the night, and Robin told me that if anything bad happens to you during this trip, she’ll kill me.”
Hearing that made you laugh, and it didn’t entirely surprise you. “When did she say that?”
“Yesterday, when we were all watching TV at your place,” He answered as he grabbed his phone and pocketed it in his sweatpants. “It reminded me a lot of the game night conversation.”
“It also felt like The Godfather to you?” You asked, pulling open the door as he walked over to you. Abruptly going from the darkness in the room to the harsh and bright lighting in the hallway made you squint.
“Yeah, it did,” Steve told you and then rubbed his eyes again. “Jesus, it’s really bright out here.”
“Please go back to sleep. I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“Wow, good to know that you want me to get murdered by your friend,” He joked.
You smiled. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I promise I’ll protect you.”
He kept walking with you, though— heading down the hallway toward the elevators— instead of turning around and going back to the room. You wondered if Robin hadn’t playfully threatened him (in your head, the only way you could imagine it was playful) would he still be this adamant about being with you right then.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
“Did we really come here just so you could get cereal?”
“I told you not to come,” You said as you picked around the dry bowl of Cheerios. “Also, nothing would have happened to me if I was alone right now. Unless you think that that drunk couple would’ve kidnapped me or something if you weren’t here.”
You gestured in the direction of said couple that were the only other people at this buffet aside from a few workers; they were sitting barely twenty feet away from you and Steve and looked as if they were in their entirely own world as they shared a bowl of ice cream.
Both you and Steve abruptly looked away when they started passionately making out with each other.
You let out a quiet laugh. “Wow.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Steve started, grabbing a handful of cheerios from your bowl. “I don’t think kidnapping you would’ve been on either of their minds right now.”
You weren’t going to admit it, but you were actually glad that he stayed with you. Sitting at this random table with him in this near-empty room was a lot better than being alone with your thoughts.
You suddenly wondered what time it was, but you also didn’t care enough to check your phone. “What time do we have to meet your parents in the morning?”
“They wanna get breakfast at eight,” He answered, and you nodded at that. “Apparently, they’re really excited to see you.”
You gave him a skeptical look. “Normally, I would think that’s a good thing, but is it in this case?”
Steve shrugged. “Yes and no. At this point, I think it’s just gonna be a lot more of interrogating you— them trying to see if you’re truly the “right person for me” and all that bullshit. Pretty much the same thing that happened at the dinner, but it’ll probably feel a little worse since we’re gonna be seeing them a lot for the next few days. But still, even if they didn’t like you, they wouldn’t tell me to break up with you or anything, they’re mainly just happy that I’m in something serious.”
You nodded again. “I know your parents can be super intense and overbearing, but in some weird way, I think it’s actually kinda nice that they, at least, care, I guess, about your “love life.” I sometimes wish mine did.”
Steve shook his head. “Yeah, but mine don’t actually care, though. They’re only so focused on my love life because they care about themselves and their image.”
Maybe that should’ve been obvious to you. Because hearing him say that, and when you thought about all of the other things that he had told you before about his parents, it made a lot of sense. “Okay, I fully take back my previous statement.”
“What’s up with your parents, though? You never really talk about them,” Steve said. “How do they feel about you going on vacation with a guy you just met?”
You shrugged halfheartedly. “I don’t know how they feel about it because I kinda forgot to tell them. Well, not kinda, I did. I did forget to tell them about this.”
It had been the farthest thing from your mind. And deep down, you could even admit that you purposely pushed away the thought of telling them because you knew that they probably wouldn’t have cared that much about it, anyway.
“Oh,” Steve said, and then things became quiet. You wondered how insane you probably sounded to him right then, or how fucked he must’ve thought your relationships with your parents were if you didn’t tell them about this. “Okay, so if I don’t end up getting murdered by Robin after this trip, it’ll definitely be your dad then.”
You were immediately grateful for his lighthearted comment. You could feel yourself inwardly sighing in relief. The tenseness— that was probably only firmly planted on your side of things— quickly washed away. “That would never happen, but if it did, I’ll once again protect you.”
“Thank you, that’s all I ask,” He joked, smiling at you.
You were abruptly reaching over the table to fix his hair, there was a part of it that was sticking out weirdly— it was the bedhead, you figured. “Sorry, that was kinda bothering me. Anyway, this is very random and a complete one-eighty from what we were just talking about, but do you ever think about how different some things in your life would be, maybe even how better they would be, if certain things had ended up working out, or if they had ended up happening?”
Maybe it was the slight sleep deprivation that made you ask that question— that felt like it was the only thing that could correctly explain the abruptness of it. A similar version of that slightly confusing question had also been the exact thing that you’d been wondering about barely thirty minutes ago before you refused to continue to sit in silence and in your thoughts about Eddie.
You were pretty certain what your answer to it was— a resounding yes; you thought about “what-ifs” a lot, probably too much.
A part of you expected Steve to ask why you were asking that question, but he didn’t. “In what way do you mean?” He asked instead.
“Romantically,” You didn’t hesitate to answer, and then you shook your head at yourself when you realized what you were saying. “Actually, that’s probably so dumb of me to ask you since you don’t care about relationships and all of that.”
“I do think about it,” He told you. “Old relationships and stuff. What went wrong, what could’ve gone better…” He trailed off, letting out an awkward laugh and breaking your gaze. “Sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry, this is probably way too much for a middle-of-the-night conversation,” You said and realized just how true that was. You now wished that you had brought up some random lighthearted question about a movie or something.
“No, it’s fine. I’ve just never really talked about this before,” Steve said, and you were about to tell him that he didn’t have to talk about it now if he didn’t want to, but he continued before you could say anything. “Um, I think saying old relationships is a stretch, actually. I’ve mainly just thought a lot about the last one, I guess.”
The high school relationship that he had mentioned to you on Valentine’s Day, you remembered. It was the last serious one he’d been in. You wondered what it had been like, how equal parts amazing and devastating it must’ve been if it turned him off of relationships completely for the foreseeable future.
“This question is probably so stupid, so please feel free to tell me exactly that, but do you ever miss her?”
“Sometimes, sure, yeah. But, it never really happens that much anymore. And whenever I feel like I miss her now, I think it’s more of me just missing what we used to be instead of me really missing her specifically. Does that make sense?” He looked up at you then and you nodded. You honestly felt as if you understood him completely— missing the picture itself but not necessarily who was in it.
It was that analogy that somehow made you realize something that you maybe should’ve realized earlier. Specifically, during the moment also on Valentine’s Day when you asked him why he didn’t do relationships and he pretty much said that he didn’t want to get his heart broken again. He was scared of it now, of love and relationships. It wasn’t just about it being easier not being in relationships and not falling for someone, it was about it being a scary fucking thing to do again.
It honestly made a lot of sense. So much sense that you really didn’t understand why it didn’t hit you sooner.
You didn’t say this to him, though, because it didn’t feel right to, and a part of you also really hoped that you were entirely wrong about it. Because this would shift everything that you thought you knew and understood about him.
It would be a thousand times easier if you solely took everything that he previously said to you at face value. If your understanding of him and who he was and what he wanted was as simple as what he had told you that night outside the arcade and what he’d been telling you this entire past month. He didn’t want to get involved in anything serious for simply that exact reason— he didn’t want to.
You had only nodded in response to his “Does that make sense?” question and you knew that you probably should’ve said actual words, but you couldn’t think of what exactly to say right then. And then Steve was speaking again before you could figure something out.
“And I guess that’s when I kinda think about that question you asked— wondering about how different things would be if it all had actually worked out,” He said. You’d completely forgotten that that question had even started this conversation. “But, it’s kinda hopeless and dumb to think about it, though, right? Because the outcome can never change, so what’s the point of even wondering about it?”
“Yeah, exactly,” You said softly, abruptly thinking about Eddie again. “What’s the point…”
Steve looked at you for a second before giving you a small smile. “Why was that question on your mind at,” He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “One-thirteen in the morning?”
You suddenly felt really close to telling him what happened at Eddie’s place days ago, and the conclusion that you had come to about everything; the timing honestly felt pretty perfect. But, you still couldn’t do it.
It wasn’t about you feeling sad about the entire thing, it was about feeling stupid. And you honestly didn’t even think that Steve would judge you or think that you were stupid— he’d probably feel bad for you, you realized, which somehow felt a thousand times worse.
“I don’t know… I’m always getting randomly existential in the middle of the night, I think,” You answered, and then immediately shifted the subject. “Hey, what’s the name of your cousin who’s getting married?”
“Charlotte.”
“Okay, got it,” You nodded. “I felt like that was information I should probably know.”
“And her fiance’s name is Charlie.”
A part of you wanted to laugh, but you held it back. “Woah.”
Steve nodded, also recognizing how slightly ridiculous that was. “Yeah. Once again, I’m sorry that I’m putting you through this whole thing.”
You gave him a playful smile. “As long as you protect me from any weird family members, like I’m protecting you from Robin, I’ll be fine.”
You remembered then that this fake dating thing wasn’t at all about you anymore, it was about him. And you quickly decided that you’d make sure to play the “happy and in love” girlfriend part really well— just like he had for you this past month— so that he could get what he needed out of this. Because, at this point, that was all that really mattered.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
You gave Steve’s hand a quick squeeze. “Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Your parents are looking over here. Just do like a quick peck thing,” You said, looking up at him.
He didn’t question you further and instead closed the small bit of distance between you two and pressed his lips against yours. You weren’t sure if you expected it to feel weird or unnatural, but it didn’t. Actually, it happened so quickly that it really didn’t feel like anything at all.
When he pulled away, you gave him the sweetest smile that you hoped didn’t seem too exaggerated or fake, as you two continued walking toward his parents and a handful of his other family members.
That would probably be the easiest part of the next few hours. Before you were forced to embark on a hike that you weren’t at all excited for, but Steve couldn’t get you two out of. It was during breakfast when his mom mentioned it and she was so adamant about making you and Steve come along too.
“It’s gonna be fun. According to the tour guide, we’re going to get to see the prettiest view of a waterfall,” Anne had said and you finally nodded and agreed to go because you knew that she wasn’t going to take Steve’s attempts to say no as an answer.
Now it was two hours after that forced yes and you were in an outfit that didn’t feel entirely great for a hike— denim shorts and a black tank top— but it was the best that you could do; you hadn’t prepared “hiking outfits,” or any sort of workout attire for that matter. And walking over to Steve’s parents and other family members, which he quickly whispered to you were a few of his cousins and aunt and uncle, and seeing them look a lot more prepared than you were, didn’t do much to ease your sudden out-of-place feelings.
“We still have a few minutes before we have to leave, come to the gift shop with me,” Anne said to you before either you or Steve could say any sort of greeting to her and his dad.
You gave her a small smile and let your hand drop from Steve’s. “Okay.”
You met his eyes for the briefest second and he gave you an encouraging look, and then you were following his mom to the gift shop that was right next to the lobby.
“How’s everything going?” Anne asked you as she started looking around the small shop, stopping at a shelf of ceramic mugs.
The question felt weirdly vague, but you still answered it as if you weren’t slightly confused. “It’s been good. Thank you again for everything. You really didn’t have to invite me to this whole thing.”
“Yes, of course, no problem. Tom and I are happy you’re here,” She smiled at you. “And we can tell that Steve is too.”
Inwardly, you waited for the shoe to drop. For her to suddenly come out and say that she and Tom actually hated you because you weren’t from “their world” and you hadn’t been handpicked by them.
However, with what Steve reminded you about last night, you remembered that it wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about them liking or not liking you as a person, it was about them being happy that Steve was simply in a “serious relationship.” And all you and him had to do was show that.
“I’m glad that you guys approve of our relationship,” You said, looking away from the bracelet in your hand that cost way too much and made you realize that this gift shop was way too fancy. You met Anne’s eyes. “Steve was worried about that. It was why he waited so many months before telling you guys about us.”
“Well, it’s probably obvious that you’re not exactly who we would’ve chosen for him. We always wanted him to be with a certain type of girl from a specific kind of family, you know?” You nodded at her words because it felt like that was all there was to do. “But, maybe this is better for him; at least, for now. And it’s so easy to see that you make him happy— probably more than Nancy ever did all those years ago— so that’s great.”
Nancy. Finally knowing her name made her feel more real to you. You still knew absolutely nothing about her, though, aside from the fact that she and Steve had been happy and in love at one point in time.
You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to Anne’s words that felt like the kind of compliment that was actually more of an insult. It was almost funny because there it finally was, somewhat of a shoedrop. She really didn’t like you.
But, clearly, the show you and Steve were putting on was working, and you were inwardly sighing in relief at that realization because that was all that mattered. Ultimately, you decided to simply smile at her. “Thank you. He makes me really happy too.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
next part!
taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff
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#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#eddie munson x reader#bestfriend!eddie munson#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#stranger things fluff#stranger things imagine#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington series#stranger things series#stranger things fic
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